"Late Night Laundry"

He sways to the music,
As he’s folding his clothes,
And he’s thinking of things,
He may never get to know.
Like where he is and,
Where he wants to go.

His friend is on the floor,
Headphones on his head.
Humming along with,
Some unheard song.
The room is stuffy,
Even with the window open.

And he saw your picture
Pixelated on his screen.
“Hey you, blue eyes.”
Smiles back at the photograph.
Sighs with regrets and,
Folds a pair of socks.

-Agh...I wanted to add more to this, but I couldn't find the words. I might be trying to hard to tie it all together coherently instead of just rambling. I'd like to, but it'd all come out in a confusing mess. I don't think I'd find anything to say even if I could. I want to understand what's going on around me and not be left here to assume and build my hopes up, only to have them toppled down. Blech...I'm tired...

-Matt

"A Soliloquy"

The start of a chuckle,
escapes into the room,
where white-lined paper,
coats the cold floor,
like a carpet made of words,
lines, letters, sentences and phrases.
A pile of pencils, all broken;
The pens no longer work.
"So this is what you want, huh?
Break your own heart upon the floor,
steer your own vessel into ground?
Hah! Do not blame me.
I wasn't asleep at the wheel.
Write it down! Write it-"
Hand freezes over dead quills.
"Oh..."
Paper cuts coat his fingers.
"Piece it back together,
but it won't be the same.
Pretend to let me go.
Lie to yourself, you will,
until you believe it's true."
Picks a picture from the papers,
"Oh dear, your face still haunts me.
And I've become that ghoul,
emerging from the shadows,
to seize your heart.
Reach through your breast,
where my fingers feel cold,
grip your life-center and squeeze.
But when you look,
it will be your your own face, you see.
Not me!"
A whisper, hoarse and haunting.
"Oh sweetie, what a love you gave me,
without trust, you hid your feelings!"
He shouts to the ceiling:
"Oh, how I gave you everything!
And woe, why do I believe,
You are something extraordinary?
How do I manage to believe,
You are strong and the girl I see?"
He laughs,
"What a lie I have concocted!
The foolish ideal, that she and me,
are destined to be!
Yet still I believe!"
With that, sinks to his knees.
"And yet I love you.
Like a sweet, sweet melody,
singing me to sleep.
Oh, Troubled Beauty,
Don't you love me?
Dearest, can you return in time?"
A tear.

-This isn't even really a poem. I guess that's why I titled it "A Soliloquy." It's kind of melodramatic I guess. :\

I don't even have a title for this piece of crap.

I woke up early again,
This time, on accident.
I had a dream again.
I watched the sky,
And the stars began to spin,
And then I saw a UFO.

I'm so tired lately.
I’m not sure why.
You’re in all my dreams.
It that what it is?
Can you let me sleep?
Can we forget each other,
So I won’t have to feel,
Like a jerk when I,
Say something stupid?
So sick of hurting you.
Just forget me.
I wish we’d fall again,
But it’s not likely.
The times I wish you, were gone,
Are the times I wish, you had stayed.

-I really don't like it.

I do like these, however:

"I Feel Like Going Home" by Yo La Tengo lyrics

He calls me to the ocean
Takes me wandering through the street
A restless imagination
But for now, I move my feet on the ground
'Cause I feel like going home

I can float above the ceiling
I like drifting through the air
I tend to lose my concentration
But right now, the cries don't appeal to me
I feel like going home

Sometimes late at night
While runnin' from the rain
Running from the voices
Filling up my brain
Now I wish they'd leave me alone
And let me be
To grow up on my own
Let me be to go home
I feel like going home

"My Asthma, Miasma! (The Cigarettes She Smoked As a Teen to Ease Her Stress)"

By himself he sits,
on the bleachers' steel,
He wants to run with them,
the kids all caught up,
in their game of tag;
capture the flag.

He closes his eyes,
smoke curls in his mind.
Twisting like grey snakes,
from his mother's fingers.

Asthma, inhaler,
the things she gave him,
a childhood hindered by,
lungs too weak to breathe.
"Did you think of me,
when you were sixteen?"
He asks the breeze.

"Why couldn't you quit,
before you were addicted?"

-Matt

This one was fun to write. It's about a kid who got asthma because his mother was a smoker. He's wondering what it'd be like if she hadn't. If she had quit. Instead of letting her self-destructive behavior get the best of her. Cigarettes and alcohol don't make people stronger...They just kill them faster.

Worst. Halloween. EVER.

I was supposed to go to Rocky Horror Picture Show at Higher Ground with some friends. I show up, Christine tells me that they're checking for IDs and the show is 18+ (I knew this already, but I figured they'd let me in). So I agreed for me to wait until the show was over to hang out. So I called up Ashley, to see if she could hang out. She was trick-or-treating, but going home soon. So I while I waited for her to get home, I went and got a vanilla latte from Starbucks. However, when I returned to my car, I discovered I had locked my keys in the ignition. It took me an hour and a half to get a coat hanger (with the help of all the security guards at Higher Ground and the merch guy for Lotus). I got my keys, by then it was too late to see Ashley, so I waited a little more. I drove around Burlington for a bit, but concluded I absolutely hate driving there. So I went home. I stopped in Montpelier to see if anything was going on or if anyone I knew was out. There was something going on at the Langdon Street Cafe, but it was too late for me to do anything. So I finally went home.

I guess it could have been worse.

-Matt

"A Heart I Scribbled on a Sheet of Paper"

Are you so eager to die,
That you'd fill your lungs with smoke?
Don't try to tell me you've got nothing to live for.
'Cause darling that's one hell of a lie, right there.

I could be the best kind of therapy.
Speaking metaphorically,
Tell you vaguely what you need to do.
Just to get you thinking.

I won't be a shrink, just a best friend,
asking questions
like: "Who do you want to be?
Can't have all thirteen personalities.
One or more must contradict somewhere."

And I was proud to be your lover.
Because it felt good, felt right.

-Matt

Yeah. This thing is just kind of a random rambling thing that came out.

"Yours Is the Name I Love to Write"

Short and kind of silly poem I wrote in my journal:

"My heart burned,
As you curled up,
on your hands and knees.
Fighting back the tears.
God, how I wished,
to press my lips to yours.
Take your hand, hold it tight,
and tell you everything,
will be alright.
And now I consider,
if I should have.
What would you have done,
if I had?"

-Matt

In other news:

I'm working on a comic strip. The actual illustrations are probably going to be crappy, but the writing will more than make up for it, hopefully. I'm really excited to get it done.

I also finished writing a song last night. I'm not going to put up the lyrics until it's recorded and the rest of the instruments have been added. I'm super stoked on it, and I can't wait to hear it when it's done. I've got all these awesome things I want to do with it. But I'm going to keep everyone in suspense about it (except for those who help me work on it, or witness the actual recording/finishing process) because I'm cruel like that. It will also sound a lot better when you don't know what to expect. :]

And that's all for now.