Words of a Poet

On January 1st, I received a great review of this blog at Darn Good Reviews. He connected with several of my poems and had questions about The Razors Jaw. I’ve never really done this before, but even though it is an old poem I am going to break down the poem.

The Razors Jaw

I’m falling and falling… I hit the ground
I can’t get up and look around
I’m stuck in a deep dark hole
And it’s eating my soul.
I can feel it’s fangs ripping into me
Tearing so violently
There’s no point in fighting
I can’t stop his vicious biting
He soon swallows me whole
Succeeding in his goal.

I felt so alone during the time when I wrote a lot of these poems. It just burned inside. Nothing is perfect, but I put myself out so much, that’s just the way I am. Of course that means you will be hurt a lot. The Razors Jaw is just what it sounds like. The reference is to cutting myself. I used to get very upset and it would calm me down.

I can feel it all
Still suffering from my fall
My arms bleeding… soon to scar
My deepest cuts by far
The Razors teeth sink into my skin
It smiles with a grin
He knows he’s won
He knows I’m done.

Falling would just be the feeling I felt. Never can get my feet down. I cut sometimes, never too deep, just more scratches than anything. They are gone now…

The dark place… the black hole… it’s what I feel
Yet the hole I try to conceal
But I always fall in
Falling and Falling until I’m sucked in
I try to let the light show through
Yet it soon turns to blue
And finally… goes out
It’s dark again.

Darkness was how I felt with everything. I was needy in a sense I wanted someone always there with me. Even then the ‘lights’ never turned back on. Even though I had people surrounding me and helping so much, they always found a way to let me down in the end.

It’s tough to read poems like that and kind of feel what I felt again. I am thankful I had poetry among other things to express myself. If I didn’t have a paper and a pen with me at all times I don’t know what I would of done.

I still turn to that now, as you can see about the poem I just wrote last night.

Finally Together
Feb 18th, 2008

The times have changed
For me and you
Too much
That we’ve already been through.
The light seems less bright
At the end of our tunnel
A little bit dimmer
Than it used to be.
I try to see
The way you do
To see the same
View as you.
When I see
You look the other way
And I lose sight
of you and me.
Is it real? The life we live
Or is this just before it really starts.
The hardship and pain
We must first endure
Our true test
Before we can be one.

Belong to eachother
And follow the path
Finally, together.

By Matthew Henrickson

“Monday Off”
by Chungyen Chang

Monday, two in the afternoon
a great man was born today.

Alone in this house,
a room painted orange
notebook on salmon-colored pillow.

I hold my breath and listen deep,
a digging sound in the corner of my mind.

Some termite’s gonna dig the ground right up
from underneath me,
carry me to the center of the earth.

There are only two paths from there:
escaping my termite overlords, or
imploding body into self,
recycled into magma chambers.

Ticking clock, a red line
following its path across a round, clear face.
We look into time,
but does time look back?

Outside a child calls
and two blocks away, cars blaze past
sun’s out but my fingers freeze
exposed in winter wind.

I hold my breath and listen deep
by a house which never changes
and the wind can’t reach my still-warm center
wiggling life back into toes.

Beating in the corner of my chest
my eyes an unreliable narrator
in this story of my life
and this is an afternoon alone.

This poem was submitted by C-Squared of Dark is Easy

 “Punished Forever”

I’ve changed my ways
To prove my love
It’s blind to see
To closed eyes.

You neglect the thought
and the time
That I’ve taken to try
To pay my crime.

I’ve cheated I’ve lied
I’ve bled I’ve cried
I’ve drunk and smoke
And died inside.

I’ve swallowed my pride
To be who I am
To love you still
After all that has happened, I always will.

You still neglect
To see what’s real
That I will love you
That’s the deal.

As serious as can be
Nothing less
I’m in it for always
I love you best.

Written Jan 16, 2008, I love you Emma Jean

Please note I am not claiming to be the author of this poem, the author is unknown

It’s been a tough year for me, Emma and especially her family. I’ve done my best to support everyone, I know how I felt going through loss. On January 6th we put Nana to rest. This poem was dedicated to her and it is really beautiful.

God Saw You Getting Tired

God saw you getting tired
And a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around you
And whispered “Come with Me.”
With tearful eyes we watched you suffer
And saw you fade away.
Although we loved you dearly,
We could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Laying loving hands at rest,
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.

She will be definitely missed, a hard worker and the biggest heart for those who she cared about. So giving and took so very little.

In loving memory of Julia “Nana” Terrazas 

Great isnt good enough
Excellent falls short of excellence
Understanding isn’t understood
Loving isn’t lovely enough
When the silence falls
The silence sweeps thru
Ending all hopes of a good day
Of a happy day
Of a good week
Of a decent month
Of a loving relationship

I was wrong
But you have been too
Either too proud to admit it
Or too blind to see
Maybe I’m too broken to repair
Or your too tired to care.
Maybe I’m not good enough to fix
Or maybe your too exhausted for a remix.

I love you still
And I always will
So maybe
JUst maybe
What we have
What we feel
Will stay real.

Dated June 16th, 2006

by Matthew Henrickson 

I’m falling and falling… I hit the ground
I can’t get up and look around
I’m stuck in a deep dark hole
And it’s eating my soul.
I can feel it’s fangs ripping into me
Tearing so violently
There’s no point in fighting
I can’t stop his vicious biting
He soon swallows me whole
Succeeding in his goal.
I can feel it all
Still suffering from my fall
My arms bleeding… soon to scar
My deepest cuts by far
The Razors teeth sink into my skin
It smiles with a grin
He knows he’s won
He knows I’m done.
The dark place… the black hole… it’s what I feel
Yet the hole I try to conceal
But I always fall in
Falling and Falling until I’m sucked in
I try to let the light show through
Yet it soon turns to blue
And finally… goes out
It’s dark again.

Dated March 25, 2003

by Matthew Henrickson

Obsessed with the thought of love, not with me
Not of what we are, but what we could be.
You say you love me… yet you just love the thought
Not worth the fight that should be fought
Soon you will discover what really is true
That you didn’t feel what you thought when you said ‘i love you’
Idealized
In your eyes
because perfect is what you want me to be,
but its not truly me.

Dated January 20th, 2004

By Matthew Henrickson 

Antwone Fisher is a great poet, and one of my favorites. I’ve read his book and own his poetry book. If you haven’t read them I strongly recommend you do.

Who will cry for the little boy?
By Antwone Fisher

who will cry for the little boy?
Lost and all alone.
Who will cry for the little boy?
Abandoned without his own?

Who will cry for the little boy?
He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy?
He never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little boy?
He walked the burning sand
Who will cry for the little boy?
The boy inside the man.

Who will cry for the little boy?
Who knows well hurt and pain
Who will cry for the little boy?
He died again and again.

Who will cry for the little boy?
A good boy he tried to be
Who will cry for the little boy?
Who cries inside of me

by Antwone Fisher from Who Will Cry for the Little Boy?

4 Seasons of My Heart 

The sun beating down
the heat makes me sweat
Just as if my heart was melting
and this is only the first stage.

My heart turns to the color of the leaves
they are almost identitcal
Brown and dying
barely hanging on
and soon to fall
either to be stepped on…
or swept up
and thrown away

The remains soon frozen
ice cold
buried in the snow.
I was never one to enjoy holidays
my heart sits alone.

As the season changes
I’m “sprung” with the false hope.
everything around new
A new beginning
and maybe a new life
its that false hope
that keeps me going…
from season to season.

By Matthew Henrickson

Dated Sept 24, 2004