You know, just thinking about how I said that so casually and with so little real intent makes the bile rise up in my throat.

Being a hypocrite never seemed so easy or just looked so damned sexy.

I'm exhausted yet I cannot sleep.

These thoughts refuse to leave my mind.

Could you please consider giving me some relief?

Sometime? Anything? Possibly?

Now is supposed to be the best time? Then how come it is far from that?

How do I seize something that is not there?

It frustrates me that I run screaming from the thing that which I desire more.

Please help me out here.

Love is so hard. I struggle with wanting to hate it and wanting to run away from it.

The last thing I desire is you or your love, I wish i could just hide under the rocks and keep away from yoru perfection and from your creation.

It hurts to much.

I don't want to come off as sounding selfish,a jerk or ungrateful but Jesus, would you mind helping me not feel like death frozen over and then thawed out? Please?

Just a Moment, Really

Where would I be without you and hyperbole?
The exaggeration I need to soothe my soul.
Pretending like all is well
Generating a plastic smile
Molding out your perfect life

It's every small thing
Bringing me back
It's every little thing
Ringing in my ears

If time were your friend
we wouldn't see the cracks
Hear the bones snap
Watching you break your back
As you carry out the act of a life

Seeing you live life so well
Pouring out a plastic smile
Molding out every perfect little lie

If I wasn't so sure it was hate
I would begin to think I love you
Just as much as I stare into me
While dreaming of Narcissa
Didn't you know love was true?
That you only needed open the gate
Free your heart and let it be?

When I think of you are and where I am there is the rising taste of bile in my mouth. So little matters.

Only you.

Morning Soul Rush

The deepest platitudes run empty
As they crash in waves upon distant shores
Trite in sight in sound and day
They proceed hollow voices crying
That ask upon themselves simply more

Sweetest sunlight rays softly fly
Fleeing sources as they die

Steadily consistently inconsistent structure flaws
Abide and abode
Produce razor sharp wit that sinks its claws
Inside and out

Inside or out
Live or die
Process reprocessed
Time reflected in shadow
The walls


** ** **

I could never be arrogant enough to suggest that it is just the world that has problems...the world is merely a mixture of organic life with the decayed old...it is myself that possess the ability to make choices that will govern the destiny of those around. It is the self that contains all of the salvation and hatred that spills into the world.

Every beaten breath, every life scathed by the falling rain can be seen within and without. Every being, every one, everything...everything retains a purpose greater then that which we will or can understand. Ambiguous in mystery, powerful in taste...strengthening personal resolve.

There is will, there is more, there is something deeper in and all.

The deeper problems in me are what will lead to the greater destruction without. White washed tombs offer no salvation...offer no hope. The death inside must slowly and painfully be removed piece by piece. With out the hope there is no life.

Distance is More

Our distance is the everything
We don't know what could be
But by dark light
Luminous times
We move in sync
One tempo
One love
Day by day
Night in night
We take that step closer
Love

To You

Grey Clouds.
Hazy Rain.
Distant Melancholia.

The desire to tell you everything else,
the thoughts working in my mind
that have been my whole life.

Nothing you say has meaning
Outside of the lies
The broken promise of yesteryear
The feeling inside your mind
Exposed in broken tubes
Spilling red fires

I wish I could say good bye to saying goodbye
But your memory never leaves me
It haunts my dreams and my waking breath
That you are ever a part of me
But That i was just a part of you

On and on in dreams
Ever will never be
On and on in dreams
Love can't always see
To light the path
To always be

Pigs and Pearls

Throwing pearls to swine, stomping and eating the trash you vomit.
God save me from this Hell I'm in.
The stench, the sweat, the pain

Swine eating
Swine spinning
Swine defecating
Vomit and reject,
Hate the world within

The lie we spin so we sleep at night
Coupled with fire we burn within
Stoked by our ego
Kept by fading youth
Malicious we grin
As we feast on our kin

Pearls to swine
Nothing left to loose
Every game we played we played for you
Every knife in every back
The knots we twist into lies
The rotten stench of death
Breeding the swarming flies

I think it is safe to say that I have never felt this way before...this level of oddness...being so tired and unable to sleep....this desire to run away from it all.

It builds up after a while and I just wish I could get away from everything and everyone. I feel suffocated and unable to breath.

It does matter and with that thought I wish a certain few would listen or maybe just open their eyes long enough to see outside of themselves. Including myself.

I would ask why am I so stupid but I think we already know that answer. I don't suppose You could offer a little help right about now? Guidance too?

God, why am I such an idiot?

Another Cat Picture

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

New poems tomorrow...I hope.

Slowly Walking

While I walk along these roads of life would you please guide me? Light my way and help me to see past the darkness of my downcast spirit. Help me to walk this narrow path and keep my balance. Help me to see past my own broken nature and my broken ways that can never be mended by human hands?

Would you keep me near so I can feel your warmth on my soul, keep me closer then the world and show me the passion of your heart that bleeds into the depth of the soul you crafted?

Be mine, let me be yours.
Be mine and forever yours.

Night Try

You, you said I was too imature
My music collection too

Was it so hard to see the difference
The smiles and the lies
The long burning day
The soft frozen night
To see the difference of a life
Building a world of our own
The differences it made

The days we live
The nights we lie

Rich Mullins Quote:

"Jesus said whatever you do to the least of these my brothers you’ve done it to me. And this is what I’ve come to think. That if I want to identify fully with Jesus Christ, who I claim to be my savior and Lord, the best way that I can do that is to identify with the poor. This I know will go against the teachings of all the popular evangelical preachers. But they’re just wrong. They’re not bad, they’re just wrong. Christianity is not about building an absolutely secure little niche in the world where you can live with your perfect little wife and your perfect little children in a beautiful little house where you have no gays or minority groups anywhere near you. Christianity is about learning to love like Jesus loved and Jesus loved the poor and Jesus loved the broken."

Slightly Irksome

Having large portions of myself that can be shared with no one is irksome.

Hope shall rise.

Bad Timing

You simply have no idea how enraged I am this second, how much I hate and how much I despise your very existence.



Thank you so much for CARING enough to put such wonderful people for me to hate in my life. Thank you so much, where would I be without that PERFECT and FLAWLESS plan of yours?

Bold Words, Bolder Silence

I am not even vaguely aware of what I am supposed to write. As always there is the impulse and desire to write...so here I am.

There is the typical bit where I can rail against something personal or impersonal. It is always a good P.R. move to make very bold and very broad statements against things that are not average, not typical and could be a destroyer of the status quo.

I am guessing a large portion of this has to deal with human nature in general...but the way things are sometimes...the way people are...it is outright confusing.

I have always had these odd ball day dreams about how wonderful it would be to be the only human in this world. To an extent it is still true, sometimes I wish I could be alone and not have to deal with anyone else. Focus on my needs alone and maybe find some kind of solace, maybe some sort of healing that can never come when you constantly have to deal with people that ultimately are just trying to be their own best interests.

I am tired. It is more then the sleepy bits we all have, it is almost like I am scrapped thin...plus I am sick. I wish I didn't haven't work so I could just lay here and sleep and recover my favorite bits of sanity.

So it is like I wish I could be alone, absolute silence and solace from voices, messages, demands, struggles, hate, awkwardness and all of the rest of my daily lives. It seems like it would be nice to be lost in a wave, lost in an ocean of empty streets and open desert sky.

Things are quite dry already, the breeze simply has to pick up a bit and you could feel the emptiness touch your skin. I assume at some point I would eventually desire human contact...more importantly the desire for God that circumvents everything else as well...the needs that keep me grounded in reality and dependent on others would rip me from the blissful fantasy of solitude.

That is much of life it seems. We live in our fantasy worlds where we live out what we want more then anything else and are willing to sacrifice anything in the name of ourself.

I do not honestly understand true selflessness. I have met some people I thought were selfless but ultimately they were nothing more then broken people who were only concerned in using people in order to fulfill a broken need in themselves to control and 'fix' others. Like a puppet master, just stringing things along and when things go sour they throw out the puppet into the trash with the rest of the world's broken dreams.

It would be so nice if I could get rid of these awkward feelings of self important fear of being myself, fear of wasting away at a job I hate, it would be good to get rid of the intense feelings of self depreciation simply because I was born a white middle class male. I still have to insist that sexuality is completely over rated and the difference between male and female are baffling and right now I don't even want to care.

I am more then slightly tired from thinking and would like to just be able to breath pain free, to be free or worrying about what may or may not come. Do you know how wonderful it would be just to abandon myself, my loves, my fears, my hates, my world and my purposes and leave them behind forever more?

No more silly tears, feeling dumb, acting like I am more then what I am. It would be wonderful to recapture that spark of life, to feel an energy and desire to not just live but to create for its own sake...to know I am loved and could love back in every last possible way.

But in the mean time I am myself. I am still Matthew for ever last thing it means. I have hurt people and been hurt by them as well. I have pressed on and have lived life much longer then I ever expected to. For whatever will come and will be the only stead factors I know are in my head and in my heart. Things will never make much sense but I am here existing as I am for as long as I can and will exist. For the better, for the worse and for tomorrow.

Is there every a time when I am NOT sick?

Once again I must profess my bafflement.

I am rather sure this must feel like a daily routine to you but I am confused. Really confused, we're talking more confused then ever. Let me put it this way:

Every day is more confusing then the previous. Every morning I wake up I am more confused and bewildered then the day before. Every day of my life is the most confusing day. I learn something new, I forget something important, I get bruised, I hurt someones feelings, I hurt myself, I forget the importance of your love, I choose to embrace hate, I feel sorta lost in ways and overall it is just an embracing of a something that I do not understand.

The mind is hazy, the temperature is sorta mild in an awkward way, the sky is light gray with traces of a color I am not familiar with, the sandwich I just ate was good but only in the way that a sandwich made with spicy mustard is when you compare it to the goodness of regular mustard. You know? It isn't the same, it never is the same.

Regular mustard is the foundation of good food. Hands down.

But work is in a few minutes, I really dislike that place. The people are people but I hate the job, I do not feel like trying to get people to buy useless crap they will most likely not even remember buying.

It feels dehumanizing in a way, is that overly dramatic? Is my desire for regular mustard dramatic too?

Listen, I want to do the right thing. I do not like setting off on my own and acting like I am some kind of special thing that people should fawn over. I do not even like fawning over myself...but at the same time it honestly helps to hear compliments, to be reassured that I am actually indeed something unique and special.

It even helps to hear from YOU every now and again, of course by every now and again i mean now, now and forever. Is that unreasonable?



I am told to act. Goody. It is not like I ever considered that possibility.

The thing is I want to act out and move in the way that would be right, that would be beneficial, that would make you happy. It is confusing talking in abstract terms and thinking in them...placing things concretely might help but ultimately it would still be a headache of some sort and magnitude.

It is not like I have ever seen this before, or never moved before, or acted before...for whatever reason it feels scarier and just really not what I like to deal with.

Or something. Really, I just do not know what to say at this point. I do not care about trying or wanting to be funny. I don't like the way things are. I would like to be closer then we ever have been, I want to do more then touch...I would like to be as one.

Small Words

Some things may be spoken
Others rhymed
Half breath statements barely alive

Some things can be said
Others must be emphasized
Bold words largely revised

A breath of air in the dark
Large falsehoods painted in red
Embolden by their vulgar stark

What, a plea outside for the inward dead?
Acting so free with that life,
Casting about with those looks so trite
Affection never rang so true
Except by words you said

This pride could be said
Vernacular demised
But some things are better left unsaid
At least until they are screamed