Strangers, lies and lovers
Strangers, lies and lovers
~
The hurt and lies we inflict on others
are but mirrors of our own neuroses
each guilt edged fear we harbour
becomes the knife blade of our defence
we hurt others so as not to be hurt by them
and in hurting others we hurt ourselves
a world of lies strikes with pain
how impossible is such fear
that we are compelled to wonder
in the recess of our minds we lie
first to ourselves then to the others
strangers and lovers become equal
the honest, naked truth lost
while a game slowly begins
to deceive and de-construct reality
that which binds us to the lie
is but the fear we keep well hid
the answer to defeating such lies
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Bird
A wounded bird stripped of flight
Upon the ground hopped and sang
A call to help a despairing plea
‘Oh please let belief bring a saviour to me’
It sang so beautifully and so sweet
While cradling its broken wing
The eyes which darted saw so much
To know and behold a world so vast
Then she came as though from nowhere
A girl with the tender touch to heal
Softly she took into her hands
And nursed so gently while she sang
‘Singer of beauty fly once more
Do not cry nor feel afraid
It is the belief you call out to
Which brought my heart to you’
Into a cage the bird was placed
And ate, sang then rested safe
The wing did heal so to fly again
She opened wide the cage
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Sadness of The Empty Home
The light flickers on
Illuminates the empty hallway
The thud, click of a door in closing
Brings a silence to the room
A heavy sigh escapes
A look to the mirror sees only
Tired eyes looking back
A bag lain upon the small table
The light turned back off
On route to yet another room
Light creeps through the window
Allowing enough to see
The sound of a running tap
Filling the kettle for a final drink
Keys thrown upon a side
The clatter of cups and spoons
Then further silence
Now the creaking of a staircase
Another door opened
Another light flicked on
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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Wine, Women And Poetry
I’m drunk on wine, woman and poetry
Drowning myself in an uttermost beauty
Of one such solitary spoken word
I whisper it softly, keeping it close
I share it sparingly, keeping it rich
It matters most, more than anything
And it brings closer, all that matters
Each celebration leaves a memory
Nightly becoming even more perfect
Yet distracting me from everything else
That I may miss on out other hobbies
Drinking, friends and love are hobbies
Picked up by man and woman alike
With such ease they build addictions
They seem to override the mind
Setting a new precedent to be followed
Then that word creeps in slowly
Claiming a higher price than other words
Claiming a higher meaning
I’m consumed by words and meanings
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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The obligatory annual festive write
The obligatory annual festive write
~
Another year has passed
That time has come again
To raise a glass in cheer and to pen
The obligatory Christmas poem
~
New friends have come and been welcomed
Old friends kept and loved
Now to find the time to gather
Share in stories of the year passed
The laughter and the songs
The memories in photographs
They still mean so much
~
And so the stories to come
Those nights which await
When we will laugh and sing
Cry be there for each other
To every month which lays ahead
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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Trying Not To Say
I have hurt and I have known
More than I would ever like you to know
And here we are not talking anymore
I am trying not to say, or to hear
That word which end it all
I would like to force a smile
Light a fire in the night for the both of us
So we will feel its warmth
And we could smile once more and talk
I need to know how you feel
Tell you what’s on my mind
As long as we don’t have to say
Or hear it said, let us try not to say
I know we have hurt each other
Like fools we came back for more
That is a sign I like to believe
That I love you, you love me
And we are together in trying not to say
That word which could end it all
I will not speak or wish to hear
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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The afterthought
The afterthought
~
The poetry section in the library, an afterthought
A little over fifteen books thrown onto a shelf
Amongst books of quotations and how to write
Books about books and sporting anecdotes
It seems poetry here is consigned to obscurity
A disappointing assessment of literature
A few of the named greats, a few anthologies
The favourite love poems, poems on war
A three quarter shelf collection if at all
Perhaps it’s a sign of the times changing
Modern life being unable to relate anymore
To the notions and thoughts of poetic lore
The pace picked up so long ago
The gentle stroll now a sprinting run
No more stopping to smell the air
The need to be someplace doing something
Everything else consigned to the shelf
Like a mirror reflecting the new world
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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Had I lived another life
Had I lived another life
~
Had I lived another life
What would I have to show in equal years
Would I be loved instead of just loving
And know the lasting secret to another’s heart
How would I then count my mistakes
Would my company be welcomed not accepted
It is a fruitless thought to be considered
For the never will be a known answer
I am but the sum of all my years combined
I harbour my guilt and shameful pride
Those words I wish to take back
And the others I now wished I had now said
Had I lived another life
Would I carry these same regrets
Would I know sorrows of yet another unkind
There are things which have shaped me
That I would happily go back and change
Perhaps in another life I may well feel the same
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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A Wealth of Apologies
I am sorry
I couldn’t make you weak at the knees
I couldn’t say the right words
I couldn’t offer you what you wished
I couldn’t make you blush
I couldn’t make you think of me
I am sorry
I’m not the man you desire
I’m not better and stronger than I appear
I’m not exciting but predictable
I’m not good looking or confident
I’m not anything other than a friend
I am sorry
That I let my heart ramble on
That I talk incessantly about nothing
That I feel jealous and stupid
That I am unable to win your heart
That I am sat here alone
I am sorry
For loving your smile and eyes
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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Counting on my luck
Counting on my luck
~
I’m sitting here looking at your picture
Remembering a memory we shared together
I find myself smiling like never before
Trying to work out how we got together
You’re a blessing a change in my luck
And I’m wondering almost afraid
If this feeling will ever change
So I wont rest on my laurels
I wont sit here just counting my luck
I’ll try and do those little things
Which seem to mean so much to you
I’ll see you smile and here you laugh
Try and put a skip into your step
Tell you all the words you deserve to hear
And know more important how I mean them
You came to me when I most needed you
Now I’ll be anywhere and do anything
Just to prove to you how honest my heart is
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poem by Matthew Holloway
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