The Unexamined Life

Shaken

Matthew-Donald — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 10:51:25 +0000

Shaken
the body trembles,
a rock into the pond.
glistening though drowning
forging a new bond.
the earth moves
giving way to hills
tearing open crevices
that the pond slowly fills.
all the while clouds
drifting ominously by
waiting for their moment
the rulers of the sky.
controlling each day
by allocating light
covers up the stars and moon
and hides away the night.
the forests stripped bare
no more supporting life
the tremor tears apart the land
losing ground in strife
that day will never come
the earth will never seal
those crevasses are built to last
no amount of time will heal.
lightening crashes down
and catches the drying plain
as it sets itself alight
the clouds begin to rain.
it’s too late to save the plains
no more habitat for love.
the winds press on evermore
as the rain comes down, above.
another tremor just in case
to ensure no one’s around
a final awesome lightening bolt
that silences every sound.

Finally

Matthew-Donald — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 10:46:27 +0000

Finally
the day you’ve dreamed has come,
the patterned dice tumble slow
they convene on the supple floor
telling you to go with the flow.
no assistance from the cards
that used to preach and sing
no canaries singing in the mic,
nor freedom bells to ring.
your trusted charm holds no worth
for only your decision will
it’s finally your time to shine
but now you’re waiting still.
the tired voices tell you stop
that you’ve been down this road
you dammed the doubting streams
from which the rivers flowed.
a clear head leads to wild thoughts
ones that break the levies free
so close and yet its falling
as the leaves from an autumn tree.
the ball is in your court
but you have fled the scene.
your words have come out wrong
and only you know what you mean.
the pressure builds in caves
the caverns of primordial sight
attempting to fix what isn’t wrong
just because it’s not quite right.
the excuses flow out like nectar
oozing to the bottom of a paper cup
hoping to one day break on through
what goes down only ever faces up.
a sinking ship on a desert isle
filled with hidden dreams of all,
desire crashes through rationed thought
the ever-building reason for the fall.

The Cynic

Matthew-Donald — Fri, 14 Oct 2011 07:38:46 +0000

The Cynic
He sees the world with more than sight.
He speaks volumes not with his voice.
He feels it all, though devoid of emotion.
He knows as if he had the choice.
Objective opinion empowers his rage,
Knowing not of a world where he’s wrong.
His happiness jaded by a forceful delusion,
Hoping he’ll find a place to belong.
A voice calls out in uneven pitch
Breaking him down to divisible parts.
Unsettled and guarded he calls out reply;
For why would they want to live by their hearts.
He awaits a reply but none will be given.
They’ve gone on their way without a word.
His type is a dying breed,
The only one where this had occured.
She’ll bind him with words she need not say
And fill him with desire he cannot fill.
All his life fighting against being wrong,
Now, in this moment, he’s stuck standing still.
Struck at the roots he no longer could claim.
He searches for the truth of all he holds dear.
Flooding the gates and converging on him.
Forcing him to realize each and every fear.
He fears who she is and why she had come.
As he knew the world for all that it was.
Her mark is permanent upon his mind
With each and every thing she does.

Truth Is.

Matthew-Donald — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 06:02:47 +0000

Truth Is.
These winds have not blown the same,
nor the rivers filled with rain,
since the days i felt at home
since the time when i was alone.
trees only grow taller
until they grow their trunk.
and lives only grow quicker
until their running short on time.
the days only grow longer,
until you’re having fun.
the ending only grows nearer
until you find you’ve just begun.
these days are not the same,
you can taste it with each breath
these nights that keep me captive
will haunt me till my death.
I do not belong here,
sitting idly by on benches,
I should be watching over gears,
tossing in the wrenches.
You don’t belong there,
You should be by my side,
neither in front nor behind.
nor just coming for the ride.
You’ll be my only equal
matching wit with charm
the blade wielding dove
never meaning harm.
For these sands are growing weary
and their eye’s growing sad.
The days they thought were coming
are the best they’ve ever had.
Their hopes and ambitions
driving all they ever were,
share the dreams that you hold true
and leave it up to her.

Long Forgotten

Matthew-Donald — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 06:34:18 +0000

Long Forgotten
The soft whisper
Bringing peace to your cries
Calling forth all your lies
Stand and deliver.
The silent seas
Endlessly calling out to you
How you know what to do
Will never appease.
The crumpled sigh
Breaking through tattered holes
Sewing up the burning coals
Fall while you fly.
Open rifts of time
Striking down peril’s rain
Gleaming through just the same
Rhythm nor rhyme.
Clouds of day
Sparking all you’ve ever known
Forging dreams from stone
What to say.
Unsettled earth
Shearing torrents of your youth
Stemming from the fevered sooth
A horrid birth.
Mangled guides
Sensing your cuddled scent
Knowing just what you meant
Take no sides.