Pretend you Don't

Pretend you Don't

Don't
Pretend you don't,
please,
pretend you don't-
don't say anything
and pretend you don't
don't
for me.

-Matthew Koutzun

Dedicated to One

Dedicated to One

Not all
or many
or some,
but one.

One person
one mind
one thought
for you.

You know who
oh, yes you, don't
pretend you don't
know who you are.

Cause us artists
we can't stop creation
and us writers
can't stop writin'
it's a scent
we follow blind.

That's why
this is for you
why, it's only for you
why it's only for that I try.

-Matthew Kouztun

There is Silence in the Noise

There is Silence in the Noise

There is silence in the noise
a deafening one
of spaces

between

the beats beats beats


One that if taken together
not molded apart
makes spaces

between

beats longer longer longer


But take the beats
silent or noise
or space

and

have it all it all it all

-Matthew Koutzun

Lost Post

Lost Post

I thought you were gone
and lamented the work I had put into you.

I had strained
and captured,
lost the vision
and then recaptured
the essense of what I wanted to say when making you.

And then when I wanted to put you out
I did and then found you to be gone.

I had lost
and mourned,
had a vision
that cannot be recaptured
no way now to say what I wanted to say when making you.

And then I repaired and forgot
I thought I would never forget but I found I did.

Then I found you
refound you
had a past
that needs no recapture
archived away in a place I never dreamt you'd be.

But now you're here and you're now expressed
and I have you not long till I'll have another.

-Matthew Koutzun

This Post is actually based on the loss and revival of the poem I just recently wrote, lost, and found: "It's a Box". I had wrote the poem, and then as I press the publish button I received an error sign. It was the death of me. I had worked really hard on it!

I had had the idea for the poem since walking in the morning. I had forgotten how most of the structure and lines were to be by the time I made it to a computer so I had to push creativity to bring back the mood I had. I usually find it easy to hold a mood or idea in place but this one was more troublesome than most, vague in areas and fixed in others, so I had to rebuild at parts. What I came up with was a great poem which is now one of my quick favorites. Which is why when the error sign came I almost lost it.

A day went by and I thought, "well, usually when I'm tapped creatively I go back and look at past work." I find it easier that way because it really does set you back on the creative track you were riding then. And looking at my posts I saw it, marked "draft". Saved sporatically by the new blogger system! I am so happy now that it's back and the incedent inspired the poem I wrote now catching and analysing myself in the moment. So yeah... that was my little story of a little lost poem refound...

Poets

Poets

"At the touch of love
everyone becomes a poet,"
spouting merth and merry
to skies and to sea.

But "at the touch of love,
[for me, I too become] a poet,"
but such merth and merry buried
and the words conspire and delve inside.

For "at the touch of love
everyone becomes a poet,"
but lines and scenes
are none alike.

-Matthew Koutzun

It's a Box

It's a Box

It's a ruse.
It's a shame.
A little box
and all the blame.

It's commited.

It's formed.

Opening up

and your scorned.

It's a love

and it's wasted.

Painful mess-

romantics taste it.

It's a rage

and it's a truth,

and it builds

till there isn't any use.

It's a

conspiracy.

It's a

crime.

It's that dead ringer look

you got in your eye.

It's when you lost it

when you opened up

Pandora Box

unopened-

-reopened-

-ripped apart.

But it's opened

and it's used

torn to pieces

pulled, stretched, puzzled, pulled, held, caressed, told it's better, told they're worse, told of future, faced the past, blasted together, mashed away, and given sweet sleep.

And it's hopeful.

And it's last.

To come from a box:

broken-

recast.

-Matthew Koutzun