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Matt Rakowski

Updated: Sun, 2 Mar 2008 04:26 pm

matt.rakowski@hotmail.com

www.freewebs.com/mattrakowski

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Biography

Language is an important media of expression, I take great pleasure in moulding this material to create my own literary sculpture. Whether it be poetry, stage-palys, screen-plays or fiction of the long and short kind; I've made moves and had varying different successes in all of them. I began writing bad poetry fifteen years ago, they became better. I then moved into writing short films and plays for a drama group I was involved in. Several years later I rediscovered poetry, and immeresed myself in it. I have had a number of my pieces published in various places, such as newspapers and competition anthologies. I now share my time between poetry and fiction. I have quite strong views on what poetry is, and how it should be written, so I'm sure you will notice a certain pattern and discipline within my works. Some pieces are straight from the heart, others are a beautiful collection of words that sound good together. Some are autobiographical, and some are fictitious. I am based in Birmingham (UK), and share my waking hours between writing, photography, costume/fashion design and performance art. I'm lucky enough to have a career which enables me to constantly play and be creative. I do hope you enjoy my work, and visit my website, which houses a much more comprehensive collection. www.freewebs.com/mattrakowski

Samples

What was, but is no more I sit by the window in a gaze, looking back on perfect days. My cheek is wetted by a tear, knowing that you're far from near. I take this time to reminisce, about the days I'll always miss. At the time, I had it made, and never thought your love would fade. All I did was weep and grieve, at your choice to up and leave. I asked you for a reason why, but all you did was kiss and cry. Now I live with countless fears, of loving you for years and years. I cannot reach my lovers heart, this love for you tears mine apart. She'll never have me as a whole, because of you, you have my soul. Land of make believe Reality's where we live, but dreams are where we go, a land you can forgive, when carpeted with woe. We cannot chose the place, we visit from our beds, a sunny beach, or outer space, it's all within our heads. Every night I race the stairs, then screw my eyes up tight, she'll doubtless take me unawares, but never out of spite. Before too long, I'm miles away, in a land of make believe, in Florida or Bengal Bay, I never want to leave. Without a whit of warning, I'm lying here awake, the bright light of the morning, caused my dream to break. I'm trying hard to think, yet cannot see their faces, but now I've lost the link, to my precious places. Reason to Rise It’s hard, getting up in the morning. Without something, or better still, someone, to look forward to. A reason to haul, yourself out of the delightful heaven, That is bed. Up, off and out. To the tragic land that waits. Pity those who rise for work, and live for nothing else. How sad. “I have to get up for work” Better to lie in and be late. How beautiful the world looks, from the place that is Elysium, with sheets. But cold and harsh you’ll find, on a winters morn, like this. A sharp and bitter pain, cuts you from inside. When you finally rise. Sad, depressed and hungry. Hungry for a reason. What better reason than that of Love? The love of a sweet voxed angel. Without which, there can be no cause, to lift the feathered quilt. Oh! To wake and think: “An hour ‘til she’s mine” Then spend the day, that hard earned day, her skin within my hands. I long for that, that hallowed day. With love and wine and kisses and roses and smiles and words. And a reason to rise. And what joy would be, to wake and find her next to me. I promise that day, we wouldn’t rise at all. 18th February 2003 Silence I close my eyes and picture a world, where a word or sound is never hurled. I'd live my life without the hiss, how you'd envy my nescient bliss. Picture a world with no interruption, from the aural pleasure of a black erruption. The only thing I want to hear, is the sound of nothing in my ear. As the only tool i need to write, is the gracious gift of sight.

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

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Comments

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Moira

Sun 7th Sep 2008 02:06

Hi Matt!

Just read your reason to rise before I submit to my reason to fall....into bed..late! Sleep!

Love your use of the verb, rise. The very concept of 'rising' is powerful...elevation, aspiration, forwards, hope, momentum. Love its use in Angelou's "Still I Rise," very powerful.

The line, "Someone, to look forward to"...beyond the confines of the self drew my straight into the essence of the poem.. love connection. After your journey through pain like the way you round off with a promise, "...next to me...we wouldn't rise at all."

Much enjoyed Matt,

very best,

Moira

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Zuzanna Musial

Fri 5th Sep 2008 23:33

Hello Matt

I guess I do not have to deal with that as our population is small to compare to Europe. I might consider myself lucky. Thank you for sharing and I am sorry for your frustration.
Heard that is raining there most of the time. We have occasional showers here and cold already.

Hope you have a great weekend!!

Take care,
Zuzanna

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Tomás Ó Cárthaigh

Thu 17th Apr 2008 17:23

I love your poetry that rhymes... as a fanatic for rhyme I like to encourage all writers to use it.

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Zuzanna Musial

Mon 3rd Mar 2008 05:04

Hello, Matt
You are an incredible writer. I have read your poems- there are various types. This is what interests me. The colours in writing will reflect on personal experience in life or simply will be pure imaginary stuff. Thank you for reading my poem. I am interested to read yours. By nature I am a gentle person and not all poems will appeal to me the same way. I am sure all poets have their preferences. I speak only on my behalf. Thanks!

Kind Regards,
Zuzanna

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clarissa mckone

Mon 3rd Mar 2008 04:27

Hi Matt,

Your welcome, And thank you for posting poems for us all to read. I enjoy reading all kinds of poems, even if Im cluless about what the poems about.I guess that some may find my poems hard to understand. I deleted most of my work about 1-2 weeks ago. I may post them again.Im very fair and balanced, Im all so very opinionated.Saying that I have to inform that I will investigate information, if I read a poem I dont understand and when I write I will look up info before I just go off on a subject. I try and keep it light and try and be positive for others as far as reviews go. I dont follow rules on poetry writting, its not my bag, but I love to read that sort of work, I just cant do it myself most of the time.Im glad your hear and look forward to reading more of your poems. thanks clarissa

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Zuzanna Musial

Mon 4th Feb 2008 06:46

Hello Matt

I like your Biography. Especially the line that you stated how important the Language is in communication...Very true. To express yourself either in word or by voice. It is a tool very important in every day living. Your poems are well written. The first poem shows how we humans have to take life, not with something that will fall apart fast and leave bitter feeling in an empty heart. Thought provoking, good poem!

Bacon Haze

More imaginary and twisted taste of a bacon turning into metamorphosis. Interesting poem with nice flow.

Silence

Excellent rhyme. Dreamy and imaginary write.
All poems are excellent!

Thank you...Zuzanna

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