22.4.08

Pronounced Dead

The pseudonym under-which I have written for the past several years formally comes to end today, 4 - 22 - 08.

I am Matt Elliott, I have some things to say: it is now one package.

Henceforth, this blog shall never be updated again and most likely will be deleted in around about a month.

I have created another blog; however, on the advice of a rather esteemed story teller I shall not place my poetry in said blog. Merely thoughts, observations, and the like.

The address is here.

Thanks to all you who have read me under the guise Liam Elliott.

It is now time to get real.

7.3.08

rough edges

Lets begin right here:

i feel a burden on my back
as if a whole city block stacked
itself upon my shoulders
cos im built for this kind of pressure

did i mention the city was occupied?
it is. its occupied with the people
i try to leave behind
and their blocking take off

see anytime someone tells me
how beautiful they think i am
i run.you just don't say that
when someone is mid-evolution
its rude. you may just cause
retrograde.movement.

see people like me
we war continually.
we dont sleep.
we grit our teeth.
we grip our palms.
we say our prayers
to distant gods.
we ride on falling bombs
to ground level.

why?

well i dunno about all of you
on the flip side of the spotlight
but im searching out the ultimate
sanity.scape.
where every particle reclines
in perfect alignment with the other
where all of us garbage patch kids
have pet doves and modest homes
not rabid pit-bulls and crowded ghettos

so i run
i run when you love me.
i run when you hate me.
i run when arms outstretch
because my evolution as a human
is not done
because ive got too many rough edges
to be held
this early on

honestly, i think its time to break off
real quick from the beaten path
thats been pre-traveled
by blindmen
and tear off
into the uncharted brush
find the nature inside of us
that makes our faces flush
when we finally stand face to face
with ourselves - finally in love

thats a tough concept for me, ok?
love.
its a bartering tool.
i say it to her - she repeats back
we kiss goodnight
in her car
beneath the tree
out on the silent street
next to an apartment complex
best known for its crack.
she drives away
i return to my flat
and have a pint
assuming life is good
but eventually
i run out of goods to trade
and all i got left is the bad
so when she opens up
the barter with "i love you"
im chewing on my tongue
like a dog gnaws on a bone
because i want to say to her
sorry honey, this shop
is closed

lets end it right here.

© Matt Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

2.3.08

Wandering Eyes

Something from my newest project: 21 BITS
Wandering Eyes

Ive got a worn out face like the souls of old shoes
It got stuck on my head sometime ago, somewhere
Between the drinking problems I've since recovered from
And the failed relationships I could never recover
But this face
Is still in the mirror - with its suitcases under its eyes
Always packed, ready to move on
Cos I look through all you're hearts for a place to stay
But never find it. so I just keep moving
On and on.
And sometimes it rains.
It rains so hard I cant see.

At the end of the day
I find my self emotionally homeless
Everyday. because all the people here
Have emptier hearts then Ive got empty promises
Saved away - waiting to be fulfilled in a desk drawer
I O U's for little pieces of me I gave away
So all that remains is this worn out face
Like a stretch of old home movie footage
No one wants to see anymore.
© Matt Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

1.3.08

Paradelle

First created by Poet Laureate Billy Collins the paradelle was merely a joke; a way of making fun of people who follow poetic forms and sacrifice making sense. None the less the form intriuged me when I read his poem "Paradelle for Susan" that I decided to write my own.


Paradelle About Leaving

I am reminded of a silent moment
I am reminded of a silent moment
Sitting here stuttering the dead ends of days
Sitting here stuttering the dead ends of days
Silent dead days stuttering
"I am here reminded of a moment of the ends."

The endings usually seem formulaic
The endings usually seem formulaic
Acute deja vu the most common complaint
Acute deja vu the most common complaint
The most formulaic deja vu common
The acute endings usually seem complaint.

If one was to reach out past the moment
If one was to reach out past the moment
A vessel driving through the spine of time
A vessel driving through the spine of time
If vessel movement was past time
The one driving out to the spine through a reach.

I, the silent complaint, reach a vessel
Usually of the most acute stuttering
Dead out of time. If the deja vu end
Am one reminded here
The common past was driving the moment
Seem sitting through days of formulaic endings of a spine.

© Matt Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

----
And an fyi the paradelle's form is 4 line stanzas with 6 lines. The first 2 lines must be the same. The 3rd and 4rth lines must also be the same as each other. Then the final two lines (to conclude the stanza) must use only the words of the 1st through 4rth lines.
This only applies to the first 3 stanzas.
The final stanza can only use the words in the previous stanzas and nothing else.

As you can see this is pretty ridiculous haha!

Cheers.

19.2.08

A wee handful

021708
i still have dreams
of a mind blowing
blue-sky green-grass
everlasting expanse
where inevitable she
and insatiable me
will be encapsulated
never. moving. soaking. in.
a flickering moment
perfect. half. time.
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.



021908
yeh, ive got these late nights
lined up like all the feelings
that i falter to find appropriate
Similes and metaphors to express:
This emptiness is like a ___
My loneliness grows as ___

perhaps, Ill let the reader
fill in the blanks
after all - is not all poetry
subjective?
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

9.2.08

Inconvenience

I like how convenient store clerks
Think that when I come in late at night
Im high on some kind of drug
And proceed to play games with me
From behind their formica counters
Their PhDs hanging on the wall
Between the large letter B
And rows of cigarettes standing
Like rows of soldiers - taking aim.
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

2.2.08

020108

Thank you
For getting out of my life
Little did you know
Your rude departure
Your leaving on bad terms
Your betraying of a friendship
Only made it easier for me
To butterfly forwards and
Fly.Away.
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

1.2.08

The Last Cigarette

I stood there at the bus stop
My feet slowly sinking down
Through the depths of concrete
My back slowly merging
With the illuminated advertisement
Upon which I leaned
Staring at a street trash can
A burst blood vein of this city
Overflowing with shit.

This was the precise moment
I indulged my final cigarette
Before I'd battle the nervous
States of quitting for the third
Or perhaps the fifth time.

I dropped the smoky filter
On top of the city's blodclot
And sulked onto the bus
The way a cockroach crawls
After you've stepped on it
The way a child wanders
Into an adult.
Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

31.1.08

Chemistry

Then theres days
You spend awake
The whole 24
Just to watch stagehands
Rearrange the scenery
So when the characters
Enter stage left
You’re still stage right
Both moving towards
The center.impact.zone.

When you and I
Meet center.stage.
Critics will call it
Chemistry.
Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

30.1.08

Poems regarding spacial arrangement

012908
It occurred to me
And seems highly probable
That I merely exist as ballast.

That perhaps someone else
May feel that much lighter
Is almost a comforting thought.

Although, it does not illuminate
The fact I am heavy laden
With a burden never lightened.
Liam Elliott 2008. All RIghts Reserved.



013008[am]
Listening to a song
Makes me think
Good times.
Gone times.
Nothing left but this
Bleak.Extraterrstiral.ism.
Memories of a
Home.planet
Melting into a
Distant.memory
Reach up.
Look back.
Smokestack.
Chimneyface.
Liam Elliott 2008. All RIghts Reserved.

21.1.08

012108

It never ceases to amaze me
Just how estranged we are. now.
Things may make more sense
If I was just a renter. here.
If I was just to leave. here.
Was not your stranger.child.
Not your eternal project.defect.

This feels more like an interrogation
Then a friendly chit.chat.
Do you think you could get your
Righteous lights out of my eyes?

I’m trying to keep an ember burning
But you’re pissing it out.
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

14.1.08

011408

Drove down your street
Just to see if I remember
.still.
.do.
As I round the bend
I see the house
On the corner still
.the door.
.the fence.
Where your dogs
Would bark
.out back.
I remember walking
Those dogs down
These streets
They’d stop
.here. and .there.
.piss. and .shit.

Then that day came
.as they do.
You. the airport. your mother. me.
LAX yellow goodbye
.take me with you.
.you can’t. .apology.
.goodbye.

Its clear now .to me.
That these days come
.as they do.
It’s unfair to blame
.my lack.
.of faith.
.in love.
.on you.
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

13.1.08

011308

I can’t write
There’s no fuel
There’s no flame
There’s no want—
desire. passion. hate. love. angst.
I’m an overcast second
In twilight.
The sun. no longer. rises.
The sun. no longer. sets.
Everything seems aquiver
The earth is a twitching muscle
On a boy’s un-kissed lips
Moments before. IMPACT.
This continual limbo state
Where everything. hangs.
As if life were on pause
While the viewers
Retrieve. fatty. foods.
Actively. forgetting.
They too. have been paused.
By overweight viewers.
© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

8.1.08

010808

0108089am
I don’t: talk
Face2face
Make eye contact.
Why?
Everything I feel
Is here.
Honestly, at times
This is a cage…
And I don’t know
What I feel…
Most of the time
I feel nothing.
Somewhere around 17
I hit an ice age
Been pretty numb
Ever since.
Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.




010808am(2)
We all have that one
Who tattooed her name
Across the front of our heart
Leaving an eternal memory
Prior to an eternal departure.
Thing is – I scratched
Out the name…
I didn’t want to recall
What it had said.
And now? Well,
I still have the pain
And no way to call it.
Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.

3.1.08

010308

010308
When you told me
You were known as
A Heart Breaker
I remember knowing
I would be the cold hand
Of Karma and I wished
That it wasn’t so
(As I always do).
Nine months later
When it did occur
I remember your
Tears raining on
My shoulder: a plea
To stay a minute longer
I didn’t
(As I always do).
I remember that drive
That feeling of intoxication
But still sober
Shoulder still wet
Eyes still dry
Drifting off into the
Distant setting sun
(As I always do).
z© Liam Elliott 2008. All Rights Reserved.