Biography of Matt Mondschein
Regardless of who we are, we all have things in common,
no matter the obvious differences. We love, hate, feel sad, feel good, are content and regret. These truths are inescapable and cross all borders of race, color, age, and sex. As I've found out, life isn't always easy, yet there are moments, after the fact, when you can sit back and laugh at the situation.
Contained within, are poems I've written about some of these situations. They fall into three categories. Those personal to me, those about people I know and those that are completely fiction. In any case, you'll
come across a few that ring a bell with you, some will disturb you and others will shed a tear. Regardless as you read, and connect, if you haven't realized yet, you'll begin to see that life has it's ups and downs, it's good and bad times. You'll see that life is a
On a more personal note. Some of my writes are from memories of my own personal childhood and other youngsters early days, I in no doubt have some evil thoughts and some love and joy, in other words the duality of man and I'm not ashamed to write about these situations. Raised with twelve brothers and sisters. I was the black sheep. A hyperactive, yet generous child.
I write from youngest memories and see in my mind abuse issues, that leave myself drowning in sorrow. Spiritual in a sense
no longer religious but believe in a higher power, that someday we will answer too.
My father had fourteen in his family seven boys, seven girls. My grandparents Frank and Mary were Austrian
from Burgenland. My mothers parents were from Hungary
I hope to write until my time is up.
Keep the peace in your heart
be grateful every day and true love will always
come your way
Matt Mondschein's Works:
- A Bowlers Short Dream
- Melissa My Wife- The Greatest Love
- A Christmas Prayer
- Die alone
- Sister, Sister
- Happy Fathers Day - Lord of All Creation
- The Worst Poetry
- Moonlit Dance Affair
- My Dad
- Counting Crows
- Perfect People
- Auto Mechanics Mentality
All walks of life, enter the arena
For hours on end
As pure grain in an hour glass
Mindless thoughts of the disease
Bedeviled, satan posessed