Poem: “You Matter” (2017)

You matter.

There is no one like you; never will be again,
from the birth of the earth to its outermost end.

You — 
an eager shout, a sacred “Yes!”
that moves your flesh, your bone, your breath. 

You — 
she, he, ze, they, you are whole and okay,
gracefully teaching your truth and your way.

You
cannot be forgotten. We cherish you so.
Your voice and your hands can do more than you know.

You
see old things anew. You turn them and test them.
Your wonder exhausts our old words to express them.

You
speak and lay bare all you dig up and hold
aloft from the dust of conventions grown cold. 

You
up-end every rock and pursue every glimmer
and give a new name to each sparkle and shimmer.

You
chart out new paths, go beyond our horizons:
new friendships, new stories, your hope always rising.

You,
welcome and wanted, whatever your skin,
wherever the neighborhood you were born in.

You
play across fences that keep us divided.
Old walls become weak where your love is ignited.

You
call us to kindness and questions, reminding:
the life of our living is found in the finding.

You!
There is no one like you; never will be again,
from the birth of the earth to its outermost end.

You matter. You do. We’ll keep learning with you.
Now stand on our shoulders. See what you can do.

First published on www.matthewsrosin.com and YouTube, 2017.

Poem: “The Weight Of Paper” (2007)

Muscles quiver under paper
in a fiber grave.
Arms, interlocking,
press into the day.

Balance finds its gravity
only through points of three.
This is our only saving grace.

The weight of paper is piling up.
I cannot find another face.

Beneath the weight of paper,
we will build a home, with
walls that hold fast to the sound of
words we cannot know.

Column A and Column B:
never what they claim to be.
This is our moment's saving grace.

The weight of paper is piling up.
I cannot find another face.

Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s A City Out Of Sight LP, 2007.

Poem: “The Passenger” (2010)

Hatred is a dead body
handcuffed to my wrist.
I drag it behind me,
uphill and down.

The face which smears
over rocks and concrete
is the same as the one
I see in the mirror.

The fingers which cut
grooves into the soil
bear my fingerprints;
leave their traces.

The wake I trail behind me
slowly ceases to be red.
The passenger sheds his skin.
I grow still more hollow.

Blank features pass away
as my face grows ever harder.
My back curves from the weight;
the spine is bleached by sun.

By the time the bones remaining
detach and fall away,

there will be nothing left;

nothing left to save;

but an empty shell
dragging empty handcuffs
behind.

Published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP, 2010.

Poem: “Room Of Light” (2007)

Floor. Ceiling.
Walls of light.

My shadow
  seeps
  into my skin.

My shape
  is lost
  to my eye.

Floor. Ceiling.
Walls of light.

A motherless,
  fatherless
  point of shadow—

God,
  the memory of sleep,
  recoils.

I am behind the metal door.
My spirit springs to your eye.

Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s A City Out Of Sight LP, 2007.