Tell Me the Truth
Tell me the truth - Not about LOVE or GOD rain will change colour inside wet and warm circles I'd see the reflection - of every lover past and present; Tell me the truth about YOU let us throw a penny into a draining stream watch a river rise over the snubbed and decayed where the anti - sapiosexualist spins one hundred million voices that sound the same - same treadmill winds on They roll them up - Spit them out Please tell me the truth (Not about Love or God) before too many ego's spoil this imperfect broth. Beware of a God that Smells of Liquor Beware of a God that smells of liquor he'll change the route and imply the simplest of distractions while sipping gin with cucumber (not lime) whisper to the ocean to break our mast among a thirsty crew that create masks; across tables where chameleons sleep with tanned and bitten feet; Feast on Caldo Verde and cold sardines clinking on wine glasses, the slaughtered lambs are easily replenished; pretentious permanence hangs in the hot air where he hear nine different dialects trying to delete the madness from the remains of day. Weavers of tapestry point out our fates around capes and sunken shipwrecks gleaming under surface like opened pots of honey shining and paused underneath in blue and turquoise green. Make it to the island where eyes are full with rain guide us to a vertical wind far beyond the touch of a drunken god's watery grasp we shall rise as the tellers of journey, birth, and past. The River Only Flows West When the Dead Are Sleeping Guilty sentiments stored in cupboards where birds - no longer wake us with song; If I ever see the stars breathing out again that majesty of light that hangs like shining chariots - carrying angels across yellow moons; I will gaze-from the corners of east and west when our past is caught in a clock's mechanism - metal boats in industrial blue sleep beneath feet resting oyster catchers will glimpse ends of passing dream and waking breath the river only flows west when the dead are sleeping. Bio from 2019: Matt was born in Bristol 1971 and now lives in Newport, Wales with his partner Kelly his poems have appeared in many journals such as The Potomac Review, Foxtrot Uniform, Dodging the Rain, Here Comes Everyone, Osiris Poetry Journal, The Blue Nib, The Poetry Village, The Journal, The Dawntreader, The High Window, The Ghost City Review, L'Ephemere Review, Ink, Sweat, and Tears, Confluence, Marble Poetry Magazine, Polarity, Lakeview International Literary Journal, Matt won the Erbacce Prize for Poetry in 2015 with his first full collection of poems Dystopia 38.10 and became one of five core members at Erbracce-Press, where Matt interviews poets for the erbacce-journal, organises events and reads with the other members for the annual erbacce prize. In 2017 Matt won the Into the Void Poetry Prize with his poem Elegy for Magadalene, and read his work across the east-coast of the USA with readings at the prestigious Cambridge Public Library Poetry Series in Boston, a guest poet appearance at The Parkside Lounge and Sip This in New York City, Matt read at his first U.S. book launch in Philadelphia and has two new chapbooks available One Million Tiny Cuts (Clare Song Birds Publishing House) and A Season in Another World (Thirty West Publishing House) plus a small limited edition booklet The Feeding (Rum Do Press) Venice and London. Matt was also one of the winners of the Naji Naaman Literary Honours Prize (2019) and has read his work across the world including The Poetry on the Lake Festival in Orta, Italy, at the Poetry Cafe in London, A Casa dos Poetas in Portugal , in New York, Boston, and Paxos in Greece, and various venues across the U.K. His second full collection Woodworm was published by Hedgehog Poetry Press in 2019.
Fevers of the Mind 