Poetry

Corduroy trousers

MattLeave a comment

Corduroy trousers
Always sound like
they’re about to set fire
as old men shuffle
through their retirement
Taking the time
to refine their temperament
So the wife
Will wind ‘er neck in
Stop naggin’
For all the gamblin’

Now he has learnt the humour
In tryin’ to outdo her
And he pulls faces
Through shop windows!
Bets on the side for another pack ’o cigarettes
And when she turns back round
He smiles and points out her assets
His smile feigning innocence

And at the weekends
She goes to their usual haunts
The ladies book club
Where she can moan
About his nuisances
But with a lingering smile
Upon her lips
With an affectionate humour
Because she knows
She is his.

(c) 2016  Feb

The rainbow forgot

Matt3 Comments

I am all the colours the rainbow forgot
Grey, black and teal
I am the have nots

And I was born
Grey bubble gum
No one knew
Of the thoughts
I’d provoke them to chew

And I was born
Teal cigarettes
The signs were in the smoke
They couldn’t forget

And I fell into
A pot of black paint
At a young age
They called it Matt black
Who’d have thought it
Think about it, what’s my name?

I am the colours the rainbow forgot
I am the have nots

(c) 2016 Jan

 

Dancing shoes

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I put on my dancing shoes
In bedlam
Or is it Alcatraz
One can’t tell
When you’re on the razz

Shiny brown shoes
Got on my suit too
Slick my hair back
I’m a silverback gorilla

Wanna put on a fight?
I’ve got fists of fuckin’ Dynamite
Golden rings on fingers
You’ll be goin’ ‘ome in blisters!
So put on ya dancin’ shoes

I’ll put the grit
Back in ya grin!

(c)  2016 March

Faceless

Matt3 Comments

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I’m taking on my demons role
staring him in the face
I take a step back
Sharpening my knife

I reject the monsters bark
Cutting his mask
From my face

It’s been sewn on
And underneath
I become no one

Which is a new monster
In of itself

What have I done

I stare at my nothingness
Mouth gaping open
Without a sound

But I can hear my scream
Inside my labyrinth

Who am I
What am I meant to be?

(c) Jan 2016

Venice

MattLeave a comment

Her eyes a painting

In Venice

A boat made of Oakwood

Glossed to a perfect shine

Making my way through

The iris, a tunnel in her eyes

Lost in the turquoise reflections

Of an art painted to perfection

 

In the night

The frame changes

In her eyes

The moon reflecting

On ripples of water

As we take a canoe

Paddling on through

 

“Were you even listening to what I was saying?”

She smiles, wine glass just below her lips

A pendant hanging just above her cleavage

I smile back

Back in the room

Must have been dreaming.

(c) 2015

 

Together

MattLeave a comment

 

In a field of yellow flowers
I sit with my guitar

In front of me is a piano

That had fallen from the sky

Then a woman comes and plays along

And together in sync

We begin to sing

 

This is our time together

Let’s keep some mystery

Lots of things to find out

Plenty of things to dream

So hush, baby

Don’t tell me all your secrets

We’ve got time for that

Anyway they’re just so darn good to keep

 

When the night falls

Together we will sleep

The spiders won’t matter

Cause we’ll be deep in dream

(c) 2015 Posted on previous blog

Boulervard Of Broken Dreams

Matt1 Comment

At first I was inundated
With feelings familiar
To a once rampant heart beat
That faded into the distance
One frosty night on a darkened street
Where tears and ex lovers came to meet

The feeling to which I’d been acquainted with
Once before those many moons ago
I feel it beating but I swore to never let myself go
Not that way
Not again

And so I left her
In room 13
At The boulevard of broken dreams

 

(c) 2015