Tag Archives: poetry

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: “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.

Poem: “Joy/Grime” (2007)

Spinning, whirling
dancers in the alley.
Dresses turn and bloom,
dragging through the grime.

Joyful, smiling,
dirty skin colliding.
City walls are echoing,
for we are not yet dying.

Concrete calling,
precarious and falling.
Dancers stretch their limbs like
flowers from the cracked sidewalk,

marking passing time;
pulling joy from grime.

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

Poem: “Pass Not That Way Again” (2010)

“Where one can no longer love,
there one should pass by.”
Though memory aches for former shapes,
pass not that way again.

Human curves and fingerprints
should not be cast in corners.
The huddled form is not for you.
Pass not that way again.

Where surprise has fallen mute,
there no gods will grow.
Those spirits have all lost their breath.
Release their spent air from your lungs.

Fever dreams too tightly held
deserve only your tears.
Lay to ground their will to death.
Pass not that way again.

Steps ahead, voices resound
that beckon us to being,
forgive us our misshapen pasts,
and welcome us in changing.

“Where one can no longer love,
there one should pass by.”
Though memory turns to clasp cold lips,
pass not that way again.

Published as lyrics for Cindervoice’s Before the Turn LP, 2010. Includes quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Walter Kaufmann translation.

Poem: “Medusa In the Cistern” (2011)

How long
can you hold your breath?

Two minutes?
Two thousand years?

The city sits
upon your neck—

snakes,
so still
suspended
upside-down

in drinking water—

saliva
now a nutrient

feeding grand machines.
Modern industry rushing
past your memory,

quaint,
unthreatening
fragment of nostalgia
that you are;

frozen,
beheaded

as you are.

Published as lyrics for GODHEADSCOPE’s Patience EP, 2011.