 Stephen MatherMy Story is not a pleasant one, it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams, like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.
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Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Ukiyo-e
I
When was it that you learned to fear your senses? On rooftops after perfect nights the sun, I believe, blinds flowers yellow and that this is how we came to lie here in the grassy fields of yesterday's scent. You forgot what last year smelled of? Now it stares you in the eye to leave forever and is almost afraid you will let it go. Almost afraid to realize the precise orange of a falling flower, but you...you my love captured the black solidity of a tree so vividly in every flower; caught the skies crying in judgement and they remain your prisoners. They wait in the movement of your hand, molding my breath-they wait in gigantic silence. Trip tapping the melody of the soul in solid branches, oh my ukiyo-e, there exists around us an ocean deeper than the tears you cry. The entrance, so subtle in its melody. The snow looks almost ashamed of the purity in it melting too slow-slower than flower's orange and quieter still than rain clouds molding my breath(the snow melted yesterday and its daytime decides to live orbiting your shaking moon). No, leaves never return to the tree(please forgive me) and so walk, walk quietly through your river of black death, trees and strangers love gazes(you always return the favor). My eyes will find butterflies of your glass mirrors when it rains your autumn; is it your pastel gravity that makes this breathing so difficult? Oh, set me ablaze with your floating orange peel sky-The rain doesn't realize it's inches from the sea.
II
Home spices in the moon wind, scents outside dark houses even. Yes, the roses were the wind and closes every finger by finger on my heart red. Forever but ever and starlight like kite flight they linger some longer creating morning tomorrow. And Lights out-out there on a night horizon where lakes don't know our names and all those leaves are just a thousand ways of me saying i love you, I love tomorrow.
White attic doorways and yes you too will be swept away with the wind and spices placed gently in the wooden corner of time and left to dry with the hanging morning clouds. Because flowers need the complete black moisture of your eyes to fall so soft and accordians need the sky to cry. Back home it was discussed in hushing blushed stern and even the grass of the tombstone wilted longingly under your parent's windowframe. Oh how his eyes do die and yes he would never be aware if it weren't for your mirrors and dripping skies and the way you look at me and yes he does find words of dead men suitable to the creation of our sunset.
III
brilliant black on a fiesta day, i love.
spices and kites on a blustry birch bending,
blushing and flushing from moon dew ending-
leaves wash the spices from my body barely,
aware of brown attic beams and
the feeling of ancient maple trees
eaves and one day our feet will walk out our front door
trying red forest
Wipe always your tears from the skies
we're coming home
It is now morning.
Don't allow sunlight to walk out that door into the ocean and grow lonely being a thousand orange flowers
-as if I could for a flying second grasp your falling reflection.
Implications of prayers old unbearably if stars smell
their light looking back black as roses yesterday.
Barely float doors white over dusty
and window light when birds think it day and day think it night.
Water leaves turn over
behind your head trickle never dreams fickle seaside beams.
Uncover the dressers of old dreams and milk the sky for all the blood it's worth because this lost into the melody, death can't stop and can't and can't you sing me that tomorrow just one more time
-Might the nighttime of course explode-love.
Oh so orange and oh my God I love you.
Posted at 10:30 pm by Stephen Mather
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Monday, April 23, 2007
Our hearts don't beat as burning paper flowers, despite the fragility of the night folding into warm sea, we move so slowly as the pounding of ocean waves upon my chest. Colors and our love fold all around us nights of oragami as if they were rooms or lives fading from memory, as if they were flowers- Moist flowers that don't smell as a hundred aching petals of yesterday but as all the dew of the morning moon. Even in sunlight all the streets of Japan rain with the scent of night.-Flowers so white that they're red in the night sky and I wish it was all snow, because nothing is more sea than the grey of the tree trunks blossom on foreign streets, their flowers bloom the stars(even while alone everyone cries at the sight of love, waterfalls pour without witness in dead night). My God, the night feels so like a snowflake new in love with our burning souls. We hold memories in our hearts fragile as dead flowers, colors fade everywhere into right now-the sky was meant to fall... Be here for me as the world peaks unfinished with love-This this is how I imagine the world to always end because when I reach out to hold your heart, the entire world awakens, blossoms and beats like flowers unfolding so bright in the night and in our eyes; unfolding the night beyond ourselves and within ourselves, sinking dreams to feel tragedy, unfolding new one leaf at a time to float on the wet pond over our heads, constantly opening a new black sky and holding paper boats over our heads-flowers on fire flow nightly eternal heavens bound, ocean waves brown above our heads and tree branches cradle our dreams into blossom as if umbrellas or windows could shield us from the rain (but it all tirelessly falls down, every moon spills). And we dream our lives through water droplets, a thousand colors in a hundred lights drowning out the horizon-wind shivering on fire because I feel you within me, falling underwater; do your eyes gasp for air or for truth? This living in a moment that will never begin breaks my heart, yet I've never felt so alive looking into your eyes. Love has brought us here; everytime a budding tree reminds me of a life I moments ago died in, I feel we're kissing. Stars drop out of trees to feel water blue- In dreaming we lose what we never knew and, find letting go to also be falling deeply into breathing solitude. What if this moment were as important as it should be? It almost shatters my heart with every breath of love in me when dreams become my night and day, a world broken perfectly by night. And so your hands fold themselves over me and we too fold into love, fold with angel's wings and the night forever. Oh you, angel, created me in the most ephemeral of dreams, but left me unfinished, the night no longer holds me in pearl embraces and I love you so much. Does your face still look as it did with mine under that crying night sky-who are we, now that we'll never be complete? Perhaps you awoke too soon, leaving me and my heart behind in this dream forever, but I could never hear music before I knew you and now knowing the music of night is almost unbearable. Dreaming angel, do you hear trees where you now love and do you cry as if from feeling something you will never quite remember?-You see me yet in stranger's gazes, and feel yourself grasping for my heart under fallen flowers. I gently stir in your heart, puddles of melted icebergs, no matter what world you are now in; believe in love. Yes, you too are unfinished but you will hear new music, feel love in every moment and I will find you yet. We swim together and so far away from eachother in the oceans infinite. You're too beautiful not to die-at least in a thousand dreams of love- and I admit I'll never find the courage to face such a truth, especially when mouth to mouth with your calypso sun setting smile; no, I'll never find words for gratitude, not even in everlasting life. We died in a dream, I never knew you until the fleeting moment of my awakening and yet I feel you with every star serenely evading my understanding. You have always been lost as if stumbling upon or fully remembering a dream for the first time and every heartbeat is almost losing you forever-from a constant fear of painlessly wilting flowers, letting go of everything for the moment, falling and never reaching you, light. Every lifetime is a second of forgetting. Your heart too will wilt away as the artichoke night peels life and yesterdays longingly from your sky, showering the cosmos of music onto flowers. So that they might grow slower, in yet more solitude, more lovely still-Always with our warmth. But we hear nothing of the flatness of music, the wet flower petal blossoms the night which unfolds in your lost hand-a nighttime strewn across the stars for love.
Posted at 10:45 pm by Stephen Mather
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Sunday, March 25, 2007
water lily duets Everything begins in love. We live in harmony long enough to always be dreaming new, because the sun has never been yellow but swimming a million different colors more radient than the entire sky; your beautiful sunrise eyes, the sky becomes the calmest ocean in your arms while all the colors porcelain pure flowering water drops. The sun falls on both of us a lake. Lakes flooded with leaves and geese never stop singing even under trees but never made a sound as to mirror the stars in raining symmetry. Flowers grow in the wooden house where your mind swims away from right here, because right here will never feel as silent as where behind your eyes grow the greenest fields. Even rooms flood with brittle light almost as though light could float autumn leaves through rain even now in March. Last Gethsemane prayer cries and rainy sky lilies could soak my feelings through my eyes to become everything I see and breathe it all into my dreams. And the pier lights reflected on the rippled black water, but I always am waiting for you-you when I can finally breathe after holding my breath. (You stood just as how you always walked past me, as a statue, the yearning for marble eternity clinging still in the living subject's eyes, your eyes. The whole world was reflected in your stone lake eyes, they always glimmer from afar but I cannot call out to your ears, seashell ears that would deafen the sobbing of fear.)-You stand just as in a dream, yet music ever has confronted me so trembling wildly; you're looking for sleep in the sky. Wind always blows like eyelashes from the sun, you walk as if on water and skip stars throughout my entire lakes of waking, visions of yesterday pulled apart like old string. We almost feel our yesterdays but beautiful dreams wake us up into a new day-Following the curving green park bench railing of a rainy day to when we would walk under all the street lights. In shape giant as acorns the sleepy light would expand the sky to be a bigger blue than it ever had been; holding you in my arms feels exactly like that(fading as memories but with pure atmosphere inside our chests growing so wide and calm). Every breath with you will always be some new body of water enveloping our hearts warm. Fading guitar plucks and intricate patterns on fireside rugs remained surprisingly yet stagnantly in tune with the sky and I'm going as far as our star moves in the night sky. (Almost every sun pouring through trees is grey from the start and never leaves, even in puddles where 'There' is blacker than 'Here' and no one might ever be lost.) Water lilies dont float gigantic in the sky as they do in the black and blue forever lakes of your love, they resonate a duet just like our hearts. Heartbeats underwater so that the clear pond expands with us all, slowly in and old sun's death amazement-soft as kisses. With the lakes as wet as a new night sky, all the flowers bud new love in darkness, only to break against time and slowly open up to light-as all my yesterdays fade into right now; so that we might greet the harmony of our future. Loved from every beginning, darling you never created the world but everything greeted you so perfectly in all passing and I always dream for eternity, but that I dream is beacuse of you.
Old Coats
To love this moment the most is more than any angel could hope for, which is why they sleep in the sky away from here, sleep outside windows, (outside the windows before thunder gave them light and took it away and broke them all, before the rain puddled the roof tops, the rooftop fires in dreams. The cello right now bowed so sudden a downpour so that everything smells as its colors drenched but all the houses remain warm; it connects now to how I felt back then in snores and yawns of a waking foxhole. I've only held hands with you in the rain and can't imagine dry falling-Roadways flood and so our future footsteps are in every town.) outside cloudy beach rain when the wooden gates snore their brown with a grey sky; A sky made of leaves so that wind rustles the entire sky orange and our faces know rain sooner than the dotted cement. Roof shingles secretly hold your scent yet I can only see them and they are always out of reach in the moist air. Tulip air, dew falls within us all a grey sky made of Japanese flower leaves. Wet flowers floating through black lakes(floating like stars upside down in the view of your house from coming home and so we blossom as flowers blossom into wilting: just like trains)-My carnation wilts and windows the perpetually impossible dying sunset on the moon; almost as how the reds and oranges are more than any tide movement(the moon holds everything, especially gazes and hands). With every fallen petal, a minor eclipse, minor heartbreaks while your wolfishly pure eyes will never cease howling love through the feeling that our falling gives me. And my carnation blossoms in my lips repeating your name, here Sails through a soaring sky unkempt and unhated except by those whom extinguish love's flame with their fear.(An unflickered, unrippled night of steady hands if hands ever could not dance.) Midnight bus stops in city parks light up my childhoods and lamps still look new under rain. The black nights of youth faded to brown wooden gates (one day I'm going to kiss you on the cheek under the eiffel tower, wind will blow through red flowers; we'll wear old coats and never quit dreaming wind chimes) Windchimes dressed the wind up as birds though all I saw was a cello broad wooden curving melody, between two brick walls where trees grow a greyer cloud, trees growing thunder. You walk through the leaves turning them ever over and falling flowers through my hair. The night tasted the blood in its mouth and could not tremble; flowers steadily sway swinging porch goodnights. In this night sky to die under flowers feel so perfect for I always felt my death to be black in the lightest way as candles inside rooms. Almost rainy daydreams grow your smiles into my memory, cascading into all, making alive this moment an angel(of your tears) Wilting fading flower tendrils curve the lines of the wind, sleeping our tears in the ocean of night. There is something between feeling and seeing words on paper but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'll never be alone and I Thank You.
The flowers, the wind, the moon and the night sky.
That moment of creation, the realization of love in every moment
The world will never be the same Outside the window was a door which could only exist in the pure white streetlight beside it, in the nighttime of that moment when I was so lost. Lost but not alone because your hand touched mine so that the entire world might live in our heartbeat, might live in the dizzying movement of the moon and how everything is always fading into smells we cannot imagine. You fill the entire world with hope as the blue sky fills the room and it remains a dark white. It's just like when we kiss and everything in me pours out into us. The door only exists in the light but it is made out of rain, pure rainwater from the trees above, green trees alive in blackness and starlight. Alive in the pouring creation piano music as skipping stones on the pure ocean water in my heart (ripples flow from our together hands). And nighttime is a black cave full of stars and love in which we hold eachother around a fire, lost in the chanting of the stars love to eachother. All the buildings have a layer of salt which we mistook for stars and became enraptured in the sea of night and eachother's waterfall hearts. And a thousand forgotten, neverknown rooms in my heart flow out my eyes and meet me in flower's breath.(When we followed our hearts to the ocean and lived on the moon for years in dreams tapped from a cherry-blossom tree) Our dreams are japan, so alone and beautiful with the moon behind a tree. I see it all through the window and when we hold hands the entire world breaks open and that's when everything begins, when the night is complete and in the end, everything is love. We always stood in eachother's arms in the middle of the road, that most impossible of worlds and in your arms I never have to try to stop everything from slipping away from me as it usually does. And I will always feel at home there standing in impossibility with you because love has never been so real. I saw that the sky was blue for the first time and it's so amazing to realize how blue the sky really is. You are the night, when all I can smell is you, darkness has never been brighter and we wholly envelope eachother and everything in love. Rain waltzes continuously as the colors in your eyes dancing in my heart and the rain waters the entire lover-flower of life turning this world green. The winged juxtaposition of a silent angry night against your eyes was a green sea moving in the reflection of windows, of your eyes while the wind ever loving moved the branches of a poplar(The moon moves so sorrowful all around). We walk hand in hand half-submerged through the sea with the eyelashes of new light from old stars brushing our faces, painting us new, the night sky leading us onward together.
Rediscover life through love (right now).
Sunset Teapot Dreams.
Our vision has always been of a flowing green sea. Flower buds bloom even slower underwater than in sunlight in white rooms no matter how astoundingly blue the sky outside the window is. Your voice in my head, my raindrop heart from a thousand miles away. The heart sings its own song completely different then I would ever expect.Understanding would be the biggest misunderstanding. We walk half conscious under half remembered streetlights and all the buildings begin to bloom just as flowers underwater(fragile and so full of life) our eyes swimming through smells, our hearts swim in cold water.
A lifetime burning in every moment.
When the sunset falls over the buildings and I can't tell if it's water or a dream; these flowers are something to believe in, to be forever letting go of and the light and water always smell the same (I can't tell the difference between love and your eyes)
-When I hold my breath and all I can think of is you, you in my heart beating in a dream. Where I almost saw you in the garden but you were right beside me the entire time(if time is worth anything more than a kiss from you) We started planting a garden but ended up behind the furthest sunset and everything was as if nothing had ever happened anywhere.
We stand together on the water's edge, on the edge of everything we have ever experienced deep within our souls. Where the sunset touches the water and I just want to be as impossibly close to it as I can be and I want to be in your arms (everything pure around us is set on fire, painted by the warmth of your eyes across stars; kiss the curving lines of the sunset onto my cheek.) In a dream with you I watched the sun set over an orange terrace infinite.
-In a dream, death had never been so real and calm. I gently rose to meet it, hope in my heart of life and yet so lost. Who are we? The teapot boils so cloudy and we pour it across the sky with the meeting of hearts to cool the world off, wrap us up in a blanket of dreams. Falling, falling (your eyes and the stars and me in my dreams) Let go of your pride, your dreams, let go of your fears and wilt, wilt in love. Open your eyes to a new day. To create is to love!
Morning Glories
The quiet of the dark white in the morning and everything is happening almost backwards, still waking from dreams. It feels almost as if the walls were vined with flower's purple though my imagination/neighborhood lungs wake up with what sailors see on the horizon at night(searching for home). Droll pacing of wind on the windows because anticipation rolls and rolls and always waits for me. Quarreling, tumbling are lighthouses through sea skies as I step out doors into my neighborhood where I always have been. Innocence is only gained when my world is inverted made of water. New days and swimming considerations of past forevers, the light on the wall blinds my senses soft as a snail and of course then all purple is real. The roads are butterfly light because stepping on them is so blue and flutters in the pier of morning light my heart. Trees burst the sky upward green and so I greet burning day. (In your arms-finally a thousand lost dreams realized) Light apocalypse hanging red in the rose bud because in all the Greek hanging gardens pediments crash to the earth and also crash lonely sunset awe into my views of the fence alongside roads I walk. Passive apocalypse because I'm sure the sun flies. I will never forget a flower falling from the tree-wholly opposite to birds perching amid branches ever steady. And I will never forget your hand falling with mine-exactly like our two lips. And the sun is really a thousand of [these] feathers in the night and your eyes have always been/looked like stars/suns, such marvelous hanging gardens over the river of land, sparkling sea salt of mountains. I really can't imagine night without your heart. Night's as long as a knife as long as I see your eyes but feel your kiss; I only see your eyes in the night. No one has ever felt the moment before their death but I have been there, I have found love. (Love in all the movements of the eye and the branches) Stars can yet be seen through fog as the future/hope is yet found right now and I stand amongst all of you and I live it all. I die in the future and I live in this moment. Night as long as dreams is the only road home. (No two people dream the same and thus life is always different always beautiful as your smiles are different colors.) It turns out that life is just a bunch of rooms that we're too undecidedly afraid to enter though we always look in through the windows infinite and we always dream. Beautiful rooms we'd never be able to imagine, beyond dreams because dreams are what make the moment beautiful but life makes the next moment loving. We've made it and we're still going.
-A glimpse into what this moment will feel like in nostalgia, three years from now.
Sleeping in tree trunks, tulips are caught saved in the middle of a lake and I don't know whether they are standing or whether they are breathing but them being found after lost feels so mountanous when I know everywhere in time there you smile for me. Wobbling clouds and the pines panic birds out their stomaches. Wobbling salty clouds and I wish your eyes were lighthouses on the horizon brown cliff. Your vision is a genuine feeling and I wish I could hear it outside of shells; outside these rooms the ocean roars. Accordion mornings because all the music in the mountains is folded gently when your smiling lips and I don't know how I stand feeling the music and being exactly here where all I want to be is with you. Somewhere between hearing music and where I sit dreaming is God himself breathing love into the world, is where everything I ever knew transforms completely warm new in love(it's all I got, our pounding heart). Somewhere behind morning, (the entire world is waking up in the light on purple flowers all over my white wall) we create this moment, this dream so together.
Posted at 12:38 pm by Stephen Mather
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Sunday, February 25, 2007
I'll fight like hell to hide that I've given up.
As we drive together through 7am infinite.
The clouds part and it is still morning of mist
and white, because
Trees stand crooked but so perfect and there in
the valley I see somewhere no one has
been and it will be forgotten
(as light through water and leaves)
The rain falls sorrowful and heavy on the
port in Tokyo and the sakura tree
grows from my heart.
I don't think you left but please,
be back soon
My Brother
His glasses reflected the heavens
and all he saw was the sky
everything was so beyond him
that his future reflected the very same heavens
He has no idea how much I love him.
The fence is browner in the rain
and the roofs don't seem quite
as red, from behind black mountains
I think the grey clouds go on forever.
The world in full bloom, your eyes
All the colors and scent of rain bloom as
if the senses were flowers
And in your arms the world is wholly new when
I lose myself blinded looking through petals pressed
against my eyes, my heart
And I am blissfully lost in the rain with you.
Somewhere the sun is rising and somewhere the sun is setting
And somewhere in time it rains right here,
your carnation blooms and
all our forgotten dreams of worlds, of stars are returned to us,
You hold me in your arms.
But right now nothing looks as real as the ocean
and nothing has ever been as real as
your eyes
when the white flowers fall against
the brown tree trunk and against the
fading white sky, our future is true
You are in my heart and nothing will
ever be as real as this
We are reality.
One day everything will be lost (this prose too forgotten, what I saw in it emptied) but for right now nothing is lost. Everything is new to my heart and it is there you will always be. Yes everything is new to my heart as it always has been and always will be and such is the stars and such is us.
You! you with your eyes and heart, look upon your surroundings, upon life in this instant and smile! Oh how wonderful being alive is! So many words and thoughts and I lose myself to them every time. I forgot how precious every second is, how simply being alive contains more love than even the greatest love poem. Every time, this feeling always fades from me, but somehow it will be alright. I will fight and try my hardest and I will in every moment realize the fullest potential inside myself. I'm alive and in love with the world and nothing will ever kill my heart! love endures all.
To not be able to change the flow of time but to love it with all my heart lies peace, harmony. And that every moment is entirely new and my love every moment different and stronger than the last. My heart keeps beating with every moment new love. No more fear! being afraid of new seconds because I have faith and hope and give my heart entirely to love.
I don't care if it's "unrealistic", I will not lose my love of life, I will face each moment with my heart and no matter what anyone says, I am alive and they cannot take my love away from me.
Yes even in me forgetting that I am alive, there is love and everywhere is love and it all keeps my heart pounding.
In my heart, I wanna feel everything, all at once!
Love endures all.
Posted at 08:01 pm by Stephen Mather
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Sunday, January 28, 2007
Behind the window was living something perfect. Gods hid behind the curtains breathing them red. I am born through that window. I ran to the top of the window with all my wind and you kicked it out from under me and there I stood a star. All below me is wavering, it lingers for a moment and I love it so much. Amid dream I ran through forests ashen skies against naked feet and jumped back to reality, a shooting star against ancient cement temple. Falling out the black folds of windows I was born(three seconds) in a dream of love.
Find the love you seek in the world in yourself
in your heart.
Posted at 10:32 pm by Stephen Mather
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Monday, January 22, 2007
Sterben werd ich um zu leben.
Door
Houses, brown houses,
squares, shapes, brown shapes of walls
with roofs.
An orange tree burning,
shining.
Smell of red,
smell of melting pasta
burning sunshine heart.
In my eye
a house door.
Light border,
black space world.
Red dot burning,
a heartbeat.
O black world full of love!
A Requiem Holy prayers bloom as brown flowers afloat on the leave of dead waves. Wilting like stars drooping as ice in a night long dead by love Icy light frozen twinkle. Holy prayers bloom aflame as a flower's heartbeat kosmos blue roots arabesque into self light choking in it's own smoke explosion incense love perfume intoxication Choking, yearning, loving. O death! O Love!
Eiffel Tower Tears
That moment when the wind screams the infinite worlds perfection through my heart and I walk into the night with eifell tower star tears in my eyes. When rooms tremble fever in my soul of smells and eternities and nothingness and worlds. A roar of "I'm not afraid anymore" in my feet my hands my mouth; the red room. A death induced high in life, my life constantly flashing before my eyes with every heartbeat of death. Life! Life! Life! Your leather hand grasped in mine sweats of rebirth blooming forth in red flower light; I am not alone. I live. Every breath smoke part of the steam black night life. Energy Energy the sky wind blowing stars through my eyes such cold feeling tears. Red night heart smells my soul is free. That which we call breathing.
"What the morning stars crashing look like to the hands that write this"
Fist through the window. Knife through the night. Do not fear my love.
My heart beats and it causes ripples in the white of the watery sky, ripples connecting the sun to the moon and you to me. A heart beat to connect all worlds together, tomorrow and this moment in perfection harmony. The ripple carresses the wooden fires.
[The most intimate entries in a diary broadcasted over the sea in blue and white. The light illuminated the page, the entire horizon.]
Mysterious strangers whispered the salt air to my screeching seagull eyes. The people screamed old worlds brand new into me; countless people watching the sun over the ocean screamed to love. All of them inside my wretching, beating heart. Heartbeat., The bursting sun melts through my eyes into me(so bright and warm in the darkness). Countless colors in me bursting out through the sun(cough blood). Every color breathes into me, new smells(my eyes could bleed at it all, such inspiration) The sun drenched inside a dream, a japanese tree.
The sturdy tree, its leaves boomed the sky, fizzled silently to the world on the ground (Don't be ashamed of your prayer hands monsieur, all the belief and love held in you will bloom in the sky filled with light). The tree conected us all to the heavens, gave us all love. Stick and strings and all the oceans soaring inside a single tree crackled my wooden heart knocking it over, a sideways heart crashes an upside down world.
And the sun crashed into me, who could have ever imagined, the sun rose from the water crashing into the sea weed sky(the colliding iceburgs of the crash were so cold and magnificant) Petals falling, petals falling on my face in fragrances and colors (The sky bled roof shingles on our heads which caused light. Love is the world that crashes my heart. It was a new day.)
Your heartbeat crashes into me everywhere I go, it makes the world.
Do not fear the love i hold in my heart.
Love is the world we are in.
So this is what being alive is.
"A Reason to Live"
He speaks as if there were orange peels in his throat and across the street though on his stomache the clear window reflecting a summer day faded to skin, bland skin long ago. There is a waltz constantly knocking in his knees, slowing down in his knees and sometimes he stumbles and coughs up architecture. Architecture to sleep under or over during black skies. His throat refuses to stop soaring. His eyes do not close.
(God save him)
The night the star fell onto him,
The sky was pressing itself onto his heavy head
with a crazy grimace of stars, it mouthed
"So what is it your dreams smell like?"
In the corner he saw the green light
reflecting off a plant in the night.
he did not reply
All he could do was
(breathe)
Rapid Eye Movement.
I could have sworn my eyes were open but you kiss them and the entire world blooms out of them. Flickering eyelids. (The diamond shone so hot, it burned through worlds, melted through skin as a treetrunk grows between our eyes of pure life)
The number of times a day, lifetimes that I die and live, is unknown even to myself at the night's fall and the star's dying light. I'm human, the heavens and hells I strugle intimately with everyday bring light to the ever dying world and I will know my deaths and hells and tremble before them (pitch them to a bland sky, rise in a heartbeat of pure human soul). In the face of all good posessed in a day, infinite heavens, my soul flutters upward filling with light and the blushing vines of above, of inside of me set the world ablaze in changing contrast rebirth of love. With a heart full of love I rise up.
My God! My God!
The Stars My God!
The Stars are Love!
Are Love!
Love!
my heart bloomed inside a mountain among clouds.
The fence stands brown higher in the air than rosary beads can count. Green vines weave in and out, connecting and transporting raindrops to heavens. Grey mine carts weave out and in green mountains, a poor man's blue hope with his beard as crazy as his heart. I feel with all my being that hill, the rumbling of growing poplar trees(a rustling of birds) intimated to me by a house where I was just born a graveyard eternity times over. I feel the grey brown tree's branches against the off white house on the hill(the house splashed onto mountains in ocean's salty breeze) orange leaves bloom from the brances and somehow I feel at home there there I stand on a road so far away. The house, the trees, all pressed up against the blue sky of Azaleas, in the sky(in my heart) My steps keep up with my heartbeat and do not stop; though the scene follows at a distance it soon fades away, returns back into the mountain. It tucks away in the folds, folded wings of my heart and my heart soars upward, onward into a world I know nothing of with eyes, where the green vines connect the rain to heaven.
All the faces I glance at in a crowd and forget about in a day, all the worlds burst open to me in flower's bloom. What do they all scream at, cry over, pray for at the end of a day? The petals whispered my trembling fingertip lightning of their color, "Love me while I'm still here" (scream with all your scream against the wind, breathe in every pulp of world with every breath. Absorb every drop oflight, break all that you fear inside of you. Bleed all of your blood for this love, this life. Die from feeling too much light, from loving too much.) Love with all your heart I rest my head against the sunset, I think of all the people faded from my life, I envelope the worlds with all my feeling. I would die for it all!
Posted at 10:26 pm by Stephen Mather
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Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Listen to the birds and you realize there is no such thing as sound, it is a feeling, your soul. Open your eyes and see too that the river, it is the skies, the stars, the immortal, your soul. No thought is original, it is personality, a mask. What we feel no one else can feel, it is us, me, my soul, our soul. It is feeling love and everything. Opening oneself up to a river, learning from it and letting it into you, one feels love, the swirl glass of forever night stars. The river is not of this trivial society, but flowing, connecting and one with my soul. A feeling of love.
Posted at 12:01 am by Stephen Mather
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Wednesday, August 16, 2006
I am free, and real and i have a heart. I open my heart to the infinite night sky, the infinite hope and it fills my heart, over flows my heart; my heart is in it, part of it. Such a passion for the sky, such a passion for my spirit. It is all new, reborn, the sky, hope; me, i am reborn. I feel the world as it is, without fear, without bias. I am the world. My heart beats so, each beat radiating warmth. The warmth is freedom, it consumes everything, it is me, my life, the world. Heat. No sleep, no dreaming, just this, just this world, all the worlds. Freedom from myself, to myself, is myself. No fear, no sleep, just awakeness, just love, just heat. Goodbye world, hello world. The scent of night. My face is pressed right against the sky. Your face is pressed right against sky. We are one. Embrace the entire world. Love the entire world, the light and dark. A shooting star. Even though we are yearning for sleep, yearning for escape, we must try our hardest to stay awake, we must strive to live and love. When we escape, when we die we lose everything, when we live when we are reborn we gain everything.
Posted at 03:11 pm by Stephen Mather
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Of Nonsense and Chaos, of Madness and Dreams
Walls
the waters are blooming like walls
fanciful dreams of white
backward projections through raindrops trickle up
chaotic glass flames purged of hour hands
lucid limitations of forever
A dying man's last words
Heaven
Black climb vines celestial
Twinkle Diamond Lights bud
Ground grows a Heaven truth
windowpain water trickle spirals skywards
ghost towers of babel
eyes despair for truth
tornado, whirlwind light
Melting
Sun melting into sky
colossul funnel sky
shooting light into heaven
streamy stream wings trickle drain
melting into infinite blue, tendrils of truth
melody into everything, pinkish hue harmony
Golden sun melting into sky
gold being tested
Light found true
Nothing
Nothing,
not even the setting of the sun,
reveals the beauty of life
as the epiphany of how each second
could shatter the world in amazement does.
I used to believe
the beauty of the setting sun
was out of this world,
now im truly understanding
how perfectly it fits in.
Posted at 03:10 pm by Stephen Mather
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Sunday, July 16, 2006
Freedom is real.
Posted at 12:39 am by Stephen Mather
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