Biography of Matthew English
“I can see you have a great deal of water in your personality. Water never waits. It changes shape and flows around things, and finds the secret paths no one else has thought about - the tiny hole through the roof or the bottom of the box. There's no doubt it's the most versatile of the five elements. It can wash away earth; it can put out fire; it can wear a piece of metal down and sweep it away. Even wood, which is its natural complement, can't survive without being nurtured by water. And yet, you haven't drawn on those strengths in living your life, have you? ”? Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha
Matthew English Poems
Can I kiss you on the lips Can I feel you from the hips. Can I peel off all your clothes Can I touch you from your head to your toes.
As you disappear into the distance I can’t help but close my eyes, as you dissipate into the wind, the same current that blows the tears from my face I reach into the distance; that grows larger every second that goes by, evaporating into the mist that clouds over our fate.
Is gender the question, For what does it matter? To love is of spirit and mind, not of petty labels set by the creator
Fragility is; the smash of a glass, a fallen vase, the collision of two cars,
Plastic, artificial, disposable, replaceable, empty and shallow. The music we worship
Modern life is just a lie, a deception so successful due to the spoon-fed youth of today and yesterday. Leaders that feed on our gullibility.
A brief moment of happiness is; the gaze in your eyes, the warmth i feel from your gentle touch, my hands in your hands
I give all i can, but there’s nothing for me to take. Nothing in life is one sided, but how can this be compared with love when flat is two dimensional.
Laughter fills the room, like the sound of music painting the walls, filling our minds all persons content.
I gaze over to you, in your direction- see your face shining in the sunlight like an angel, sparkling eyes with flowing hair. Drawn to your beauty-full mind
New Volume #2
Your image fills me with happiness like a new chapter in a story, our story. Flicking through the pages to see what’s in store, although it just makes me want you- more and more.
Gazing through the glass panes of a window across the frost stained fields a ‘yonder like, a freshly powder christmas cake- the metaphor of a seasons harvest of berries and warmth in our hearts.
Folk uplifts ones mind and soul with the simple melodies, musical poetry. From the acoustics to the banjo twang and earthy bass coupled with voice and strings.
Please, please, please, let me get what i want- to hold you in my arms and feel your warm breath on my neck. Gaze into your eyes and lose myself
Walking down such a familiar street, though in an absence of mind; my head is whirring, leaving me to feel faint and vision blurred, but I keep walking.
Step- after step- after step.
No music playing, as I’m wthout headphones, leaving my walk-man in my pocket, without a use. In the background- the only music I’m able to hear is the sound of an accordion playing, from a bench I’ve just passed. It’s usual to hear buskers, but the accompaniment, is queer from any other I’ve experienced before on