About

Poetry by Matthew Marth

  • Out of the frying pan and into the fire

    Why write a bunch of poems but not share them with anybody? That’s what this blog is for.

  • Constellations

    star with star with star with star with
    abstract symbol, avatar
    star with star with star with star with
    constellation, god in heaven
    printed on my mind

    slowly spinning, branded angles
    changing places, points in patterns, speaking through me
    all
    the
    time

    star with star with star with star with
    ancient hero, awesome beast
    star with star with star with star with
    never-ending picture show
    goddess hunting, in a mirror
    mortals warring, rounds of dancing, hearts aglow

    back to figures, algebraic,
    sparkling coldly, streaming ratios
    down my eyes, into my veins
    star with star with star with star with
    star with star with star with star with
    in
    a
    sea
    black and deep

  • Amateur astronomer

    Walking on the path home, towards the vanishing point
    the tree lines frame the emerging starry sky
    into a stupendous upended triangle, an arrowhead to ground
    it stretches out above me
    It stretches out before me

    Broad and centered in the epic frame, the Big Dipper, tail and arse of Ursa Major,
    my big teddy bear, big mama bear, Ursula Bear might be right

    That big dipper looks tilted down, like it’s pouring something out, I thought
    It could be poised to pour over me
    a mystical milk of plenty
    as I pass on the earth below

    a few days later, and it’s tilted down further, then a little further again,
    Oh God, the contents are spilling out!, I cried
    the long days are waning, I keep walking, but never any nearer
    to that arse of a Major Ursa,

    Is the dipper pouring a curse, a rain of misfortune?
    Maybe it’s just as well that I’m marking time.
    I keep walking towards that very beary colossus,
    that mama bear papa bear
    mama bear papa bear
    mama bear papa bear
    mama bear papa bear

    mama bear scary bear
    scary bear papa bear
    scary papa beary papa
    very scary beary papa
    very scary beary bear
    very scary bear

    Now that Dad gum Dig Bipper is lifting away, a little more every day, Oh!,
    I meant, “My Prince”, I meant, “Oh!
    My Queen”, please don’t, damn dipper, (whoops!)
    take fortune’s wine away before it touches, it licks, my lips, it bites
    Please I am so thirsty, so sober, I cried

    But it was lifted away after so many days, lifted away anyway
    with no sentiment, no heart behind the indifferent hand
    Oh I missed my chance!, I said
    Oh I missed my chance, again!

    Or did I miss, or did I miss
    or did I miss again?
    Or did I miss, or did I miss
    or did I miss again?

    Or did I miss?, I missed, I did
    A very beary near miss, it seems

    It could have been a cup of curse
    A cursèd cup, of very beary bear claws
    It could have been a cup of curse

    Or did I miss?, I missed, I did
    A very beary near miss, it seems

    It might have been a cup of curse
    A cursèd cup, of very beary bear claws, I’m sure
    It must have been a cup of curse, I said
    It must have been a cup of curse, I said again

    And again I said it must have been,
    a cup of curse, I said
    And again I said it must have been,
    a cup of curse, I said

    It was then a cup of curse, a cursèd cup, I’m sure
    And then it was a cup of curse, I said
    that’s all it’s ever been

    A cup of curse is all it’s been,
    A cursèd cup of curse, I’m sure
    It is a cup of curse, I say
    that’s all it’s ever been

  • Gravity

    is winning, my brittle bones cracking
    The structure’s collapsing; it should have lasted [gun]

    I’m heavy, I’m hobbling, and wincing all the while
    She opens the book [gun] to a dog-eared page, proceeds to read it righteous:
    “Why didn’t you scold me?”, baiting for a chance
    to make the cartoon critic inflate to her harshest,
    the fully culpabilly scapegoat who locked her in an ice

    I’m a lumbering giant [shiny silver gun], a wounded polar bear
    pawing at the ground to lift itself to a stand

    Worshipped for my protection, despised for being her crutch
    Now she is manic, in a panic, seeing the framework faltering
    It’s tired and hurts all the time [silver Glock, or is it Glück?] [silver Gun]
    “You say nothing? You don’t scold? You aren’t even trying.” [gun]

    I can’t make the brave face right now. I’m pushing through [Glock], a tired horse
    [gun] [gun] [gun] [gun] [gun]
    [gun] [gun] [gun] [gun]
    [gun] [gun] [gun] [gun] [gun]
    goodnight

  • Endure

    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    As long as it lasts forever
    To appease your duty
    Surely numbly forward
    Down the hall
    Look not at the walls
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Think no other word
    Expect no prize
    Let pain be a vital organ inside
    Piping invisibly, inherently, simply
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    That is your charge
    There is no other
    Claim it as your art
    Your special calling,
    your virtuoso fiddling
    One note unbroken,
    played with a hard
    downbow in hand
    hoarse from the rosin

    The door is open
    But not for you to see
    Only to approach and reach, you hear
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure

    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Till you finally see the door
    See what’s outside, and more
    Endure till you pass
    Pass through its way
    Hear what your fiddle can play
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Endure
    Until you see the opening door
    Endure till you pass
    Pass through its frame
    And must endure no more

  • Dart board for your sleights

    The bullseye’s full
    They would we would fling them unbeknownst
    No eye no mind’s eye on the mess on the floor, collateral damage du jour
    Look blankly at the wound, unfamiliar
    Then in distraction walk away!
    (That slumping statue
    That battered archery board
    was built to endure,
    the guilty excused)

    They all we all riddled with lances
    The stinging in the background,
    Where, numbed, they think we think
    therefore they know their we know our
    place, where no stake I’ve no stake you’ve claimed gets in the way

  • Bible verse showdown

    please not another
    bible verse showdown
    slow down the counterpoint
    the antiphons

    in your eyes the divine
    logic reveals itself
    when the loser is at a loss
    for the decisive crushing truth
    sung in an ancient mode, hopefully hypnotically solemn enough to distract them from the embarrassing cracks leaking absurdity, cartoon stories of old:
    thou art among camels, with flowing beard, in draping robes

    quaint little drips and drops
    no matter the lyrics,
    the melody sounds like a forefinger scolding
    and the random conclusion
    takes a humble bow
    warm applause for today’s winner

    as if there could be no better ending
    as if it always ends with the king being taken
    as if it always ends with a check and a mate
    as if the supreme puzzle always makes the same picture
    even when it’s merely half of the pieces
    forced in to fit
    forced in to fit
    not that the loser was flat out of quotes

All texts copyright Matthew Marth. All rights reserved worldwide.