Time wasted neck-deep in
idolatry, pretty bottles of
pretty liquids, light gold,
amber, charred oak brown
soaking vanillin and wood
which warms the tongue
perfectly.

I pop my pinky finger in
funny ways, relegating
flow of blood to necessary
extremities only, thumbs
or forefingers or whiny
joints screaming loudly for
sustenance.

There are days in my past
I wish I had skipped,
accidentally sleeping past
my alarms and the sirens
and noises of cars passing
past my window in whichever
home I find myself to wake.

There are days more recently
I have skipped, my mind
spending hours drunkenly
slipping from action to act,
poor me and my problems,
always worthy of an award,
a statuette of broken glass.

Who said the grass was greener on the other side?
The one alone on the ***** soaked sidewalk?
The bearded man walking two paces behind
His wife while glancing my way?
The woman with the frown, the hard face
Eye rolling as the lovers smile into each other’s eyes?


The fast food nation dying inside out
The tilted heads, phone glowing, never noticing
The world around, the clouds, the sky.
The nation of talking heads stuck in the portals
The aimless many searching for nothing in particular.

The grass is greenest when freshly sprouting
Tender shoots reaching for the sky in hardy soil
Grass matures into a strong and vibrant pasture
Wild flowers and butterflies bouncing off sunlight
Its season comes and goes light and dark.

Pity so few stay long enough to enjoy its seasons
To see its growth to the fullest potential
Inflated expectations lead to disappointment.
Egocentric self-indulgence rolls along
Jumping one flower to the next.

Love is not feeling gratification
A heightened sense of intense emotion
Love is not lust, lust is not Love.
Love is not experienced in a moment.
Love lies in-between the moments.
Experienced in a lifetime.

That grass? No, it is not greener.
It will turn just as the grass you stand in
The faster you walk through it
The less you will understand its beauty and wonder
Between the moments.

If I look back, there is always something so close.
It's a cough, a bug, decay, it's the essence of a ghost,
It follows quite near, year by year, the more I ignore it,
The closer it gets. When I go to sleep at night my dreams,
They seem to vividly remind me of this following "thing,"
The proverbial "monkey on the shoulders," It's quite
Like something that starts out soft, and gets to be mean.

If I look back, there it is again, this thing that follows so close,
If I listened to you, I'd decide not to bother with it but just
Throw myself into this daily routine, this job that we "must do,"
I could ignore it and let it build up, like an itch I simply wont
Scratch, I could pretend it's a mirage, a cloud out-of-the blue.
But do I ignore it?  

No,  instead...

It becomes my inspiration...the reason I don't care any more about
Your endlessly building needs or concerns.  
YES  I know you hurt, "you'll die first!"
If I don't reach you in time  I WILL  **be "sorry I forgot your pain!"
While I reach behind my own back and rub my own troubles away...

If the world revolved around you,
injustice, insufficiency, and insolence
would get stuck in your dreads.

© Matthew Harlovic

To understand anything, even yourself,
you must live with it, you must observe it,
you must know all of its content,
its nature, its structure, its movement.
Try living with yourself, all your faults,
your functionalities, begin to see that you
are not living in a static state,
you are constantly changing.
But do not get caught up in opinions,
judgments, and values.
Live with yourself.
Learn about yourself.
You must do this, in order,
to understand yourself.

© Matthew Harlovic

Inhabiting the space between
Chaos and harmony

Entering the warmth of
Scarlet rivers

Indulging in verdant
Pungency

Soft lips of
Salt and honey
Meet mine

Haplessly embracing
A plate of cheese
And wine

In the absence of temperance,

I indulge in you.

Submerging myself into the depths of your being,

With an insatiable thirst for your flesh.

Drinking your essence with my lips,

Becoming intoxicated,

Dominated by the power of your skin.

A servant to your body.

I worship you.

In the absence of temperance.