One of these Days

One of these Days

That boy is going to get hurt one of these days;
and if he's not careful it will be soon.

He's up on the ladder,
no one beneath him,
watching to make sure it's stable.


He's gonna fall one of these days;
if he's not careful soon.

Cause he's out into traffic,
not paying attention,
head always in a book.


He'll be gone one of these days;
because he's not careful.

Since he's playin' with hearts,
not watchin' his own,
it will turn on him when it breaks.

-Matthew Koutzun

Getting it Done.

Getting it done.

Getting it done
doesn't have to be a hard thing.
It doesn't even have to be a thing at all.

We trust in others to do
what we know ourselves
we can do.

And we wait for magic realignment
for things to be just right,
before we can even dare take a step.

But jump, and leap, and do!
It's not a thing, you can't trust others, and it won't align.
But hey, you knew that didn't you?

-Matthew Koutzun

Thanks Molly

Thanks Molly

Thank you for the money you gave me,
but thank you more for the time you spent:
to listen- hear- remember my story.
It was the moment we took with each other
how you stopped and we
con(re)versed.
How I watched you go, with a smile on your face
onward leaving me there
because I knew I had to stay.
the coffee keeps me warm
but less than other things.

Thanks,
Molly

-Matthew Koutzun

If you're found in the Ocean (3)

If you're found in the Ocean (3)

Hold,
be bold,
remember what you're told,
because you'll want to remember
how to get back to me again.

-Matthew Koutzun

If you're lost in the Ocean (2)

If you're lost in the Ocean (2)

Rip.
Tide.
Run.
Hide.
You can keep it.
Don't fear I'll take it back.
The time will come when you need it.
And so will the time when we can share it.

-Matthew Koutzun

If you're lost in the Ocean (1)

If you're lost in the Ocean (1)

Shifting.
Changing.
Rearranging.
Everything physical can and will wear.
But keep and covet a tiny place in time for me.

-Matthew Koutzun

The Lord of Small Gods

The Lord of Small Gods

You said I had an angel
who hung about my shoulders
and tries to make me a saint.


I could not find one about you.

Even though I thought I could
if only I looked at you and then them
from the corners of my eye.


I Still could not find one on the edge of your frame.

But then I saw it
from the base of your saucer
the tea cup rested on the plate.


I saw it- it entered and disappeared so quick.

Like a small ant crawling towards you
and gone in a blink,
Lord of the Small Gods is what you are I think.

-Matthew Koutzun

And That's Another Matter

And That's Another Matter

Safe and sounds
Fresh off the mounds
Soft and touch
Yet not too much

From not enoughs
To being to tough
Till endings come
Enough not from

Fill from begin

-Matthew Koutzun

I Envy the Singer

I Envy the Singer

I envy the singer
more than anyone else.
Voice born from a chest
with nothing more than air.

I'm jealous of their gift
of letting out
that burn, that rush,
from wanting to be heard.

It comes on the street to me:
a pressure,
in my lungs
freed in a scream- a song.

But I sound terrible
you wouldn't want to hear me;
there may be pressure
but surely not beauty.

So envy the singer.
Beauty in chest.
Sing on unhindered-
know that you're heard.

-Matthew Koutzun

Came Calling

Came Calling

The Devil called
and I came a calling
gliding
sailing
into sin so sweet.

And retribution comes
and it came to me
fierce
furious
and packaged as love.

-Matthew Koutzun

Under my Nails

Under my Nails

In the morning I'm in my own bed again.
It was warm and full of heavy heat
of nightmares and thoughts and disturbed sleep.
And I wake up and am languid for about an hour
till I bring my hand to my face again,
nails in my mouth and stench caught to my senses.

It can't be me and it isn't.

I smell the rest of my hands and it's no where but the nails.
I dig my teeth in under and scrape the loose flesh
and the deposits from underneath.
I spit them out and want to brush my teeth-
I know the damage has been done,
but I go to the mirror anyways.

It can't be me but it was.

-Matthew Koutzun

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...