leverage

February 8th, 2010

Time moving so fast
a wind sweeping by
shearing me
leaving me naked
and alone.

Strategic thinking
will give you
the leverage you need
to secure all the things
you’ve ever wanted
cut the tree
and watch it fall
dominoes collapsing into each other
and meanwhile
she’s still there
standing on that same street corner
where you left her
years ago
and no matter what you do
or say
she’ll never leave it.

– matt at shadow of iris

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home

February 7th, 2010

I’m trying to get my head
above the turbulent waters
but they always keep
pulling me down
the currents are strong
and the crests of the waves are high
but there’s a strong wind out there
and one day
I’m going to get high enough up
to catch that wind
and I’m going ride it
all the way in
to the solid shore
and then
I’ll make my way home.

– matt at shadow of iris

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lonelier than I

February 6th, 2010

Lying alone
late at night
with my own thoughts,
they
lonelier than I.

– matt at shadow of iris

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the tree and the skull

February 5th, 2010

They rushed to her
and they tried and stop her
but of course
it was too late
she had already started
her transformation;
it had started with her hands
each finger growing thinner
and more brittle
then spreading out into a net
of tiny tendrils, leafless branches;
we watched as her toes lengthened
and spread out
dipping into the earth
looking for moisture and nourishment
that was hard to find
in the broken and dry land;
underneath her large flowing dress
there had been
such a rumbling of movement
that it had been as if
small beings were right down there
between her legs, dancing
but it was only the lower half of her body
gradually changing into two solid trunks
then spreading out
into a pattern of tangled branches;
her dress
which still yet, hugged her waste so well
was now surly just wood beneath
soft silk over coarse bark
and for a reason none could understand
only her head remained
human and unchanged
and it leaned lifelessly to one side
her eyes having gone white
and her lips blue
as the last bit of her life
seeped out of her
and she became more and more
a spreading tree.

Her lover had come out
and he had watched her transformation
putting his hand on his chest
and leaning over in anguish;
he put the blame
entirely on himself
and as his jaw moved
the wind whispered
if only I’d had flesh
then you’d have never left me
yet still I’ll claim you
even if this
is all we’ll ever have
;
he removed his skeletal head
and placed it down
at the base of the new tree
and after he was finished
the rest of his bones
slowly began to blow away
dust in the wind
and yet his skull remains
to this very day
at the base of that tree
and no one will dare move it.

– matt at shadow of iris

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[This poem was inspired by the work of Daniel Martin Diaz]

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cult of one

February 4th, 2010

I realized today
I’m part of a cult
but so far
there is only one member.

– matt at shadow of iris

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murmurs and shrapnel xxv

February 3rd, 2010

Teeth and scraps of bone
a completely new species
with a powerful bite
that roams the borders
and snatches at those
who try to enter or leave.

A beautiful princess
marries a powerful monarch
and dazzles the subjects
who are subdued by her charm;
now she’s bundled in silk
and scientists probe her bones
and wonder about her DNA.

Tales told by dead men,
a double helix that whispers
we hear
murmurs of strange things,
genetic mutations
of obscene origin.

Duty tore me
between my need
to be by your side
as you breathed your last breath
and your own words to me
to gain that freedom
you had always wanted;
so I’m sliding out of here
mixing with the shadows
and slipping over the border
into the barrens
a gift from me to you
or perhaps from you to me;
the tears in my eyes are for you
as I leave you behind,
knowing
I’ll never forget what you did;
may God keep you safe
until I see you again.

The leader watches
as his country begins
to break down
a row sharply escalates
and all that’s left
to defend the borders
is printed paper
and thermonuclear balloons,
they’re volatile at best.

– matt at shadow of iris

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skeletons ii

February 2nd, 2010

Maybe she is an angel
maybe she is not
I’m just not sure
I’ve seen her now and then
walking through that slender passage
that exits out of the train station
the one where no one usually goes
because it’s fetid and smells foul
and is too dark,
the one where the water drips from the ceiling
drip drop, drip drop;
she’s always there with her little sheep
the one that has a face identical to her own –
skinless, bony, and hollow.

Moving downwards
toward a dream
that has lured me through a door
cozy and cream colored
enveloping me in softness and warmth
flesh pleasurably disintegrating
until there’s nothing left
but my own bones
deep, deep, down.

An audience of skeletons
that clap their hands and make
a scraping sound
like fingernails on a chalk board
ten times over;
and all the while
the clattering of their teeth
like a fly
buzzing around
in my left ear.

Why would you want
to be a skeleton
, he said
that’s just stupid,
after all
who feels sorry for skeletons?

– matt at shadow of iris

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skeletons

February 1st, 2010

A rigid framework
that provides protection,
structure surrounded by skin
that encloses vital organs,
attachment points for muscles
that grant leverage;
source of
our own blood.

A long dark tunnel
with flashing green lights at the end
leading you to a large chamber –
an auditorium
where on a stage
a tall human skeleton dances,
the sound of bones on wood
clip clop, clip clop
a wild frenzied dance
hot and dry without sweat.

Both fused and individual bones
supplemented by
ligaments, tendons, cartilage;
a scaffold to support organs
protecting brain, lungs,
and heart.

You see strings;
this skeleton does not really dance
each move is the pull of a string
a clever shift here
an adroit sweep there
all done with skill and grace
by a hidden manipulator;
so you step closer to the stage
and follow the strings upward
into the shadows,
you see another skeleton
peering down at you
with empty eye sockets
that glow green.

– matt at shadow of iris

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if I could

January 31st, 2010

If I could
I would write a poem
that paints a picture
that says a thousand words
in less than that.

– matt at shadow of iris

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faces

January 30th, 2010

We don’t understand faces any longer
we don’t understand attraction
back then, time was
when life was harsh
physically
it took a toll
you were out there in it
meshing with it
and the cold hurt
two much smoothness frightened us
but a rough, worn face
a face that could take it all in
and keep it
then still move on
that was a face that reassured
so back then
everyone wanted a face like that
yet now the biggest concern
is knowing when and how to smile
to show you’re not so dumb
and that older face
has gone out of style
everyone’s afraid
they don’t quite fit in
and it shows in their faces.

– matt at shadow of iris

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