sparks are spilling
from your eyes
you sprinkle them
around,
ignite our hearts
in scorching waves,
we drown

can there be one
you'll save;
what fate awaits
survivors reaching shore;
they go to war
and time will tell
who burns out
and who
remains

(amongst the embers
a victor shall be named)

and even though
I never cease to burn
the last to stand
I see too late
the game is rigged
and charcoal hands
with ashes cold return

I contend
That I have
Never
Hated the guts
Of another human being

For the guts
Are not
Responsible for
The actions
Taken by their host

Nor are they at fault
For the decisions
Made by the mind
Of a madman

The humble guts
Are only but
Organs with purpose:
Digestion
And continuation
Of life.

I have
Never exclaimed
“The nerve
of some people!”

For the nerves
are merely devices
through which
a person
may harness
the sense of
feeling

But some people
Go on
Through life
Without feeling
Things like
Remorse
Humility
Pain
Emotion of any kind

I pity them
And I ponder
I envy them
At times
And
I am fascinated
By them

Sometimes
Pity crosses with
Envy
And I ponder again
Intrigued –
All three.

I wish to know
How to be
A wretch
A *****
A *******
A criminal
An *******
A licentious *****
A nuisance
A mean *******
But feel nothing at all

I want to know what it’s like to be cold and callous and without regret or remorse
Without a single ******* care in the whole entire world

But all I can do is speculate
That it is
Unlike anything;
Just like nothing at all:

Emptiness without knowing what fulfillment is
The coldness of not knowing the definition of temperature
The hardness of living life as compressed carbon atoms also known as diamond but without knowing I am or feeling like a jewel

I may not quite myself be a gem
But I can feel
I can hear loud and clear
I love to be whole
I love to be warm
I love to love
Because I am not a wretch
I am not a *****
I am not a *******
I am not a criminal
Or an *******
Or a licentious *****
Or a nuisance
Or a mean, cold ******* –
At least for the most part

I am
a human-*******-being
And I will never try
To be anything but.

It was
Never guts
It was always,
Is,
And forever will be
Folks with their heads up their butts
And brains in the drains
Who waste
Our precious air
And time.

One can certainly say
They feel it there
But alas
That is not
Where
The choice is made
Nor is that feeling
What upon
the action is taken.

One should not hate
Another one’s guts and nerves –
It should be
The mind within the brain
Who takes all the blame;
Everyone else is just doing their jobs.

Their situations count
They aren't immortals
Wives caring husbands
Parents loving children
Teachers kind to students
Leaders leading companions

Good ones hope for good
And lie to keep it secret
Enjoy your life without it
You will never feel it wrong
Until you scratch their safe
And lead a miserable life

Lying is never a filthy matter
Lie for good coz everyone lies

Imagine me just howling
   That's how my heart feels
   But pulling me forward

99 percent of the day
I have no idea of what to say
They all expect a response
To comprehend their complex wants
They set their claim
In ways found tame
But as soon as socially allowed
They suddenly become so proud
Of things they claimed untame

I watch them when I’m at the club
The sudden shift of their conscious sub
Their fundamentals seem to change
Their ways seem to rearrange
As soon as they go through that door
The Princess becomes a massive *****
A man with thoughts impure and perverted
Becomes one with those thoughts extroverted
As these people become untame

Not a second thought is spent
On wondering where it all went
The self-respect you used to hold
Before you entered this loud abode
What happened to personal space
That’s so important to our race
I too am a perverted *****
But I don’t pretend to be more
I accept that I am untame

Feel like I'm back to square one
Having a hard time with the lesson
Wrapped up in on myself like
Leaves lick the wind like
Trees ring within, despite
Drought, despite rain
It's like nothing ever really changes
Yet, things will never be the same....

I don’t know*
your pain,
I don’t know
how you feel.
I can only infer it
from your behavior
and the time it takes
for you to heal.

© Matthew Harlovic

I found seashells and driftwood,
Cans and bottles and much more
Like diapers and picnic stuff
While walking along the shore.
I found cigarette butts and bags
And those horrendous soda holders
That catch on sea life and twist them
In their middle or at their shoulder.

I saw palm trees and jacaranda
Waving in the balmy breeze
And broken plastic lawn chairs
Leaning against the lovely trees.
I found six-packer carriers sitting
With all the beer bottles inside.
I saw pieces of bicycles and big batteries
And I swear I almost sat and cried.

But I had too much to do right then
Gathering up all that random junk.
I carried them to a ******* bin
And I threw it all in, kerthunk!
I wondered for the hundredth time
The parents these creeps had
That let them grow so ill behaved,
And so embarrassingly bad.

What kind of selfish brat can come
And look out on this lovely scene
And throw their ******* all around?
How can they be so mean?
It makes me hope for recompense;
That what goes around come again
And we can stash these human pigs
Into an appropriate kind of pen.

When others slam the door,
You close it with gentle hands.
When others scream at the air,
You focus on your plans.

Explosive anger consumes many,
They react in the most unenviable way,
It is disheartening that they can lose themselves so,
As they live immersed in their day-to-day.

Be higher, choose to concentrate,
Know that you are the key holder for your fate.

When others slam the door,
You close it with gentle hands.
When others scream at the air,
You focus on your plans.

To my child:

In your rash attempts
to fight and secure yourself
a piece of the pie,
I hope you may be patient
and offer to those
who have yet to taste it.