Staring Into It

Staring Into It

Looking hard into the sun

my eye is turning into a blue negative.

Dark circles that make me unable to see

and protecting me from my answers in the sky.

I am passing and looking to it

to find something there that Plato said was

outside the cave.

I'm thinking I'm catching glimpses

of hidden things

in retina's dark.

Placing shades and filters

makes it easier

but I still can't see it's brilliance

and burning power.

I want to see it myself

and not on paper.

I want to experience the burn

and not be scathed.

I'm looking till blindness sets in

but I'm trying at least.

-Matthew Koutzun

Cute Metaphors for not Listening

Cute Metaphors for not Listening

Annoying you again as we sit on the couch.

You demanding attention

and I absorbed, wiper it aside.

And now you're busy and dutiful

and I coud be the same

yet here I am beside you- doing just the same.

And gridlocked and traffic'd

on time we can't agree on.

Red lighted and stop signed

on getting along.

But go our ways

and give us our time

and departed

and arrived

we'll find us our time.

To be together

when the playing is done

and we'll roll up the windows

so our fog will conceal us.

And we'll pretend we're in Titanic

and the police might come stare.

And share in the popcorn

of our show of no care.

And we'll get to our moment

when we sit on the couch

and we'll get annoyed till the next time

that we get stopped in this house.

-Matthew Koutzun

Starting Up Starling

Starting Up Starling

Staring up starling

from the burnt out hero

across cascade cavalcades

and run-a-muck change.

And flailing fingers

and crashing chords

and drummed jungle beats

to call one home.

And mighty mountains

that pull up roots

and divide such things apart.

Taken and halved

and shared among many

the inconsistencies begin to start.

Starting again starling

from battles lost not won.

Starting up starling.

Heat just burning born from sun.

Streak across night sky.

Streak although just born.

Streak and burn out slowly.

Because travel you'll go is much more.

-Matthew Koutzun

Writing These Days

Writing These Days

It's hard to write these now,

so far from the time when they used to be necessity.

So hard that someone might read

or be insulted by these words.

So hard in that expressions can be used or taken

and used constructed to deconstruct what I've made now around me.

Pillars of salt and sand

of looking back

and reminding myself

that the bad is good.

And that writing comes with healing

of vague honesty and cryptic feelings.

-Matthew Koutzun