Related image

sickening sweet is the fruit propagated in poison
ripened with loving deceit and bursting with delight
a juice that slithers like tendrils down my throat
I cannot gag—I cannot swallow—I cannot heave

its vines claw at my innards, finding root
twisting in my gut as blooms begin to grow
a dark flower climbs inside my lattice—into my throat
and the sinister fruit is reborn from my mouth

Written by Matthew – 2017
© 2017 This Mortal Flesh
Photo from Pinterest

Crying From the Darkness

Here in the dark corners of life time drifts casual.

All alone in the dark,

the mind drowns in old emotions,

old sensations.

The pain, it remains…

the regret and sorrow,

the salt on the open wound.

After living in this darkness for so long

how can an individual remain the same?

Something inside changes…

you become aware.

Aware of those who would hurt you.

So betrayed by life yet still you must struggle to live.

Where is the sanity?..

someone to take this pain away?

But how could they want someone so lost and hollow.

This lonely, cold, dark world no man should bear.

The hells that lie within the darkness should never be suffered unto.

Shear misery.

Yet I feign happiness for the world.

Wearing this binding mask to blind them.

For they can never know of this pain within.

In these times death just looms stagnantly above…


The drift divides yet it will not consume me.

Too weak to fight I slip away into the recesses,

hidden in endless time.

Yet, there is an undying hope that one day…

I will be found.

Written by Matthew – May 1997 (before I met my wife who saved me!)
© 2015 This Mortal Flesh


This is one of my earlier posts that continues to gain views. I get numerous search engine hits for some reason. Figured I would repost. This is an old piece I wrong in the angst of my youth.

The Cape

Just another bright eyed child,
soaked in immortality
enthralled by flickering lights of gold
dancing on a silver screen

he wanted to be that hero so
someone noble, pure, strong and true
vanquisher of evil deeds, but his dreams
died with passing time as ambitions often do

first he came to realize
he had no super power, and
as he grew more year by year
his immortal hopes went dry and soured

soon he felt so powerless
he just hung his heavy head
those hopes, those dreams, just
fantasies, of a child’s mind mislead

so he buried the cape in his backyard
while solemn tears he cried
and bit by bit gave in to the man
who let the child die

then one day an old man found him
staring blankly into a drink
the old man sat and smiled and said
“may I join you for a think?”

they sat and talked of days gone by
of innocence fled and heroic dreams
the old man listened then chuckled and said
“things aren’t always as they seem…”

“it took damn near all my years to learn—”
“I stewed in pain so stubbornly—”
“that just one ripple can be the change…”
“don’t get old before you begin to see…”

the child awoke, the man bowed down
and dug deep into his marrow
to find the cape for now he knew
he could be that super hero…

Written by Matthew – 2016
© 2016 This Mortal Flesh


Thanks for reading. This piece was a much needed change of pace post for me. If you took the time to click the links and go back and read my first posts here on WordPress I am very grateful to you. I encourage you to listen to the song as well, because it just fits this piece so perfectly. Love and peace to you my friends. “Be the change you want to see in the world.” ~ Gandhi


Pretty Cage

Image result for comfortable cage dark art

I will not be beat down by lack of progress
in defiance I will stand in the face of your sneer
flashing fangs—heals dug in—standing my ground
your pain is just a hallow reminder of the past

change is the fruit on which I feast
its bitter juice sours my face—burns my tongue
only in endurance will I find tolerance, and
in time I will come to know its sweetness

this pain is temporary—this bitterness fleeting
I will thrash and claw, like a cornered animal
for I would rather meet death with a fight
than submit to that pretty cage again

Written by Matthew – 2017
© 2017 This Mortal Flesh



Breath escaping to the frosted air of a New Year’s morn,
my eyes drink anew of the old sun rising ‘ore my city.
That dirty steel—cold stone—my circus, my love, my home.
All my words—broken promises—linger there still;
beseeching my faulted and weakened flesh for reparation

Looking deep within, a small bubble rising
could it be, hope buried and now struggling
to escape its hardened shell-yolk of an egg-
Yellow-orange as a slice of sunrise
reaching the surface, breaking through rubble & lies

I stand before thee naked but sanguine oh Sun—
reforged by the conflagration of a thousand bitter falls—
bathe me in silent avidity that I may toil for change unceasing
as even now this sardonic mind scrambles to clothe me
mending the breach with garments crafted of forsaken vows

It is written in tongues old and forgotten
the race of men clings on despite its frailty
in them, an innate duality —the propensity to self-destruct
and yet rise again—the power to burst out of the hearse
though the knell has already rung across the earth

This cycle of calamity and joy I yearn to break
the stupefacient lull of this wheel within a wheel—
this sugar-coated mortal coil I can no longer stomach
I will spit it from my mouth with words of vehemence
No more days will I waste in a listless haze!

out of the caves we came, out of the dark I shall emerge
defy my weaknesses, embrace my strength—I will purge
my head of doubts that have haunted me for too many seasons
reclaim my brain from itself, suffer no further ransom nor treason
nurture hope—the precious stone handed down from my ancestors

Written by Matthew & Nathalie – 2017
© 2017 This Mortal Flesh


Nathalie at arwenaragornstar pulled me out of my cave for this one, and by the read of it, just in time! It is always so nice to work with my twin from across the sea. Please go check her out when you have the time. you will not be disappointed!

Nathalie, thank you for asking me to do this!


Image result for underwater drowning

perpetually faulty, these nuisances that befoul your eyes
into your mind twisting, the score of our inaction is listing
where judgments are formed and reality willfully hides

feels like drowning—frantically thrashing for the surface
but finding mere pockets of air—small gasps here and there
yet another noisome irritation to your pristine epidermis

we’ve loved you despite our faults, this I tried to help you see
but my love is dead in inaction—now your ears are deaf to me
so I will open my lungs to the hatred if it will end your misery

Written by Matthew – 2016
© 2016 This Mortal Flesh



age of vanity
the curse of self—choking out
our humanity…
distortion of perception
the inward spiral—too strong

eroded mindset
corroded moral fibers
imploded lost world

weep society
your last hour is at hand
woe to the people
for this vile infestation
this carnivorous disease

the downfall of man
death of civilization
our world…at its end

Written by Matthew – 2015
© 2015 This Mortal Flesh

This piece was inspired by Pepperanne at Field of Thorns. She has recently done a few of these tanka/haiku hybrids and I couldn’t resist giving one a go. Please go check out Pepperanne, she is a phenomenal poet!