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Arthur Matthew

Updated: Mon, 4 Feb 2008 09:04 pm

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I'm a student.I'm supposed to like fashion but I seem to love Rimbaud and Werther too much to care for anything else.I'm not pretentious either.I currently live in London.I would not call myself a poet.Any feedback would be much appreciated.


My head touches a pillow my heart reaches a cloud and as i float,slow past thoughts disallowed accidentally i brush your heart or hand oh my head did rush so much i could not stand though as if i would past moments,so bland and i feel i should we pretend to be restless whilst moving together my love,i must confess this will never last forever only forever in dream only never to be together we will lie either with love to see quiet moments we will cry Tonight I think one thousand words Write one hundred Say none Where are the romantics? No natural decadence or gay flamboyance only in chick flicks with floppy long hair and a loving air Last night i didn't sleep my heart beat fast rapid and deep one gaze cast discreet glances which i notice my heart dances into abyss Today i feel love cold like a dead dove Oh sweet swallow of the sky how do you fly so fast,high? once my heart did the same but the fall was steep and grave for here's when i became passion's obedient slave this premature love i feel before which i kneel this natural intoxication suffocates my brain from all self regulation but their loss is my gain from this romantic coma i wake due to her her fragrant sweet aroma A life of high rise concrete and rain filled gutters running to a monotonous engine beat only a plastic bag flutters a downcast head and shuffling feet an amorous affair with the street and i lie down in the grass and i cry this situation from which i shy. She'll break your heart in two make you sick as if with flu then she'll stick it back together say she'll be here forever A thinly veiled disguise shielding myself from my demise that mound which was once so high no longer can hear my absent cry you and your charitable smile makes my heart leap and jump into denial and thoughts become deep i need to feel it again only this time without........ The only reason i live is to see my hill where i will lie never so still ODE TO BENAZIR BHUTTO your brave persistance led to your death your return brought resistance and ultimately theft Life goes on regardless full of loss and of love. Be patient for i will i know it Like a petal you float upon a frozen lake in the middle of a forest surrounded by trees, mighty trees which overlook this great kingdom of plastic bags and skyscrapers. I am sleeping upon the muddy river bed, sad. No starlight to direct my heart to the heavens where your beauty reigns over all. I know you care when your tears fall upon my virgin surface of unblemished uncertainty and of painful love and passion.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Viewed 2065 times since 17 Dec 2007

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Dave Morgan

Sun 30th Dec 2007 21:51

Arthur,allow me to call you a poet if you can't call yourself one, ah those sleepless thinking nights, how well we know them generally less down to women these days than dyspepsia and the fortunes of Bolton Wanderers. Keep writing, love to read more.


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clarissa mckone

Fri 28th Dec 2007 03:14

Thanks for reading my poems. Im glad you liked them.To be honest I dont have a favorite poet, not a dead one anyway.LOL That sounds strange, but it seems they become famous after death. I fell into poetry on my own due to deep heartaches, due to life. I have read many poems, some famous, some not.Baudelaire and TS eliot , Eugine Field, Edmond Spencer, Hum ,so many had a few nice poems.I grew up reading Eugine Field, so I guess hes a favorite!

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clarissa mckone

Wed 19th Dec 2007 01:55

If its enough to say that I like it, then good! I feel like I understand it, seems to be a longing for more and a fear at the same time,so much of this in life. Its a nice poem, if this is real feelings say the words, it helps at times to speak!

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