Friday, April 28, 2017

A Month Of Couplets

From The Daily Couplet:


“Been saying this for years!” gets no belief
When uttered by our smug Liar-In-Chief.


              Jared Kushner Drinks
                 A Truth Serum

“Let’s run the country like a company!
“But since it’s Trump’s, prepare for bankruptcy!”


When his deals fail, flop, die, or are undone,
Only a charlatan insists he won.


“Bad boy!” Santa Trump tells Climate Control.
“You get a stocking full of lumps of coal.”


“I never said that!” cries the falsifier.
“And anyone who proves it is a liar.”


Doomed Love

His kind of heart keeps thinking it can save
What her unkind heart’s kicking to the grave.


There’s no talking to men who are all talk.
Their words are sneakers that won’t walk the walk.


                 FOX NEWS

A propaganda blender for the Right
That makes a smoothie of each racist white.


What I regret most are the sins I never
Committed so that we’d be one forever.


“We settled! That means I never attacked her!”
Guilt-free harassment: the O’Reilly factor.


When sycophants enthrone incompetence,
Opinions kneel to blind obedience.


Because you risk your tongue when you give lip,
Intimidation breeds self-censorship.


               Today’s Executive Order

“Those who speak out against air strikes in Syria
Will get a one-way ticket to Siberia.”


The thug’s excuse for violence is numbing—
“I clobbered him because he had it coming.”


Governing, talking, thinking? Trump’s a mess at.
Murdering children? THAT, he’s a success at.


                           Two Ideas of Love

Just do it her way—that’s what she calls sharing.
Your feelings don’t count—that’s what he calls caring.


                          Two Ideas Of Love

She always smiles, but inside she’s a mourner;
Her cheery manner is what makes him scorn her.


                      Logic à la Trump

When we minimize threats, it’ll be with escalations.
If we go it alone, it’ll be with other nations.


        Two Ideas Of Love

He’s honest about his duplicity;
She’s heartfelt in her insincerity.


There’s nothing like despair to make you see
That losing is our common destiny.


Trust in the work, no matter who’s booing it,
And make it like you want to die doing it.


The only thing that gives Trump an erection:
Bragging about how he won the election.


My guards watch me—but though I can’t see them,
I know enough to shun what they condemn.


The villains that you really have to fear
Are those who say “There are no villains here.”


             Two Ideas Of Love

His heart’s the miracle for which she’s living—
The one thing he’s incapable of giving.


            Two Ideas Of Love

She needs approval to be self-reliant;
He only praises you when you’re his client.


Hungry for hope, I gobble up despair
And drown myself in you, looking for air.


No sooner met than looked, and loved, and sighed—
Now joined in joy well-earned and glorified.


                  Democracy In Action

“Cast your vote for Candidate Balderdash!—
So his vote can be bought by corporate cash!”


               Left Wing Blues

We’re Democrats! Instead of doing more,
We’ll just screw up the way we did before!


               Left Wing Blues

Show me three Democrats, and I’ll show you
Four factions who say “Real change? No can do.”


                Left Wing Blues

Liberals will fight each other like mad dogs
But let Conservatives be racist hogs.

                 Left Wing Blues

The middle of the road has crushed muskrats,
Dead armadillos, and live Democrats.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Down In the Dumps

I see tomorrow's failure, not its hope.
I hear how my guitar strings are untuned.
I live my life through the past’s microscope—
It makes my smallest flaw gape like a wound.

No matter what I own, I feel my lack.
No matter where I go, I never stay.
My freeway winds up in a cul de sac.
Hard work has got me nowhere, day by day.

My progress has no movement—only motion.
Because I fear defeat, it worships me.
I wear self-pity like it’s suntan lotion.
I throw away the lock to spite the key.

But why? Why crawl as if the ground might drop me?
I’m on my own. So who is there to stop me?

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Monday, April 24, 2017

Life Says

Life says: “I am the only thing you get.”
   I say: “Then I will make you what I need.”
Life says: “You want to win? Then make a bet!”
   I say: “It’s not the winning—it’s the deed.”
Life says: “All your achievements I’ll anoint.”
   I say: “Yeah; right—maybe posthumously.”
Life says: “I really hate to disappoint.”
   I say: “You sure love doing it to me.”
Life says: “Swallow your pride and win a medal.”
   I say: “I take pride in what I’ve created.”
Life says: “I will not love you till you settle.”
   I say: “Then I’ll be happy to be hated.”
      Life says: “Then there is nothing I can give you.”
      I say: “Then my gift is, I get to live you.”

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Thursday, April 20, 2017

Life iIn 14 Lines - 24: The Past

The Past’s an unforgiving dictionary,
Defining me by what I did and said.
Its purpose is to keep me stationary.
It paints me in what’s over, done and dead.

The past’s a lover who just won’t move on—
Telling me that her feelings mean I owe her,
Guilting me with a duty that’s long gone,
Blaming me because I dared to outgrow her.

Dressing me up in what no longer fits—
Humming me like an old familiar song—
Freezing my heart and licking it to bits—
Making me feel like growth and change are wrong—

My past defines me, on this one condition:
It cannot haunt me without my permission.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Go Be

Go be the sun that lights the darkest sky.
Go be the faith that nothing can betray.
Go be the pattern others measure by.
Go be the one and only every day.

Go slay the dragons that would hoard your treasure.
Go grin at hurdles and take home the gold.
Go stray down every path that leads to pleasure.
Go skin your knees like you were ten years old.

Go ski the Everest of your destiny;
Set free your inner slave, give her a crown.
Go cup your hands and drink audacity.
Go up your game. Never let yourself down.

Go tree a future that you’re worthy of
And be the soul that I will always love.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Thursday, April 13, 2017

Life In 14 Lines - 23

My love’s an angry guard dog on a chain.
My hate’s a warming campfire in the cold.
My feelings never make it to my brain—
They melt and harden in a bullet mold.

My afternoons are what I take a nap in.
My nights are all about the exploration.
The disappointment when it doesn’t happen
Is ten times stronger than the expectation.

I hug the chaos but I hate the shoddy.
I love tradition but despise the rut.
Only my fingerprints are on my body.
The doorway to my heart is rusted shut.

Yet they will all dissolve, these fears that freeze me,
When someone looks at me and truly sees me.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Tuesday, April 4, 2017

Club Mateo

My inner life’s an after-hours club—
   It is my nemesis and my salvation.
I sing along to someone else’s dub;
   I dance to Hurts (they’re always on rotation).
Desire gets me drunk and feeds me sweets.
   I know I’m being played, but can’t renounce her.
Resentment sits down next to me and tweets—
   Somehow he always slips in past the bouncer.
The bar fills up with dreams who always say
   “I’m yours!” so they can party on my dough.
I slow dance with the one I want to stay.
   But always she has somewhere else to go
      And blows me kisses from her taxicab,
      Leaving me with a promise and the tab.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Monday, March 27, 2017

A Month Of Couplets

From The Daily Couplet:


The real enemies of Democracy:
Kings who demand unquestioned loyalty.


All governments end up like the Titanic:
The only state is one of sinking panic.


So many of the best women are driven
To men who always need to be forgiven.


Always online, the Universe is waiting
For keywords loving, caring and creating.


The pains of torture, poison, vivisection,
Are heaven to the hell of love’s rejection.


Cloudy or bright, failure or paragon:
The day is always daughter to the dawn.


If I can't give without an expectation,
Then generosity becomes flirtation.


Look forward: potholes, detours, nothing clear.
Look back: a smooth wide road, straight as a spear.


When men are robbed, they’ll fight like tigers born
But act like sheep when regularly shorn.


You can train apes to read the printed page
But that won’t change their bullying or rage.


       How Trump Defines Watching The News

Stay glued to all your screens like some dumb Rhesus
For news that’s just rewritten press releases.


     How Trump Defines A Free Press

The Press must praise our phony attributes
And never point out that we’re empty suits.


With loss, the echo stabs more than the deed.
I don’t know I’ve been wounded till I bleed.


                    Trump’s America

A ship of state that pushes overboard
The wretched refuse and the dark-skinned horde.


No matter how it ends, goes or begins—
The game we play is rigged. God always wins.


By its pain racked and on its pleasures gorged,
This life’s an anvil where my soul is forged.


Women see Trump and recognize an ape
Who rules like he can get away with rape.


Joy follows grief in one brief frantic blur
Untasted—unless sipped like sweet liqueur.


The credulous say crooks are civilized
Whenever they don’t rob as advertised.


When assholes come down on me like confetti,
I’m sick of being big. Can I be petty?


I’m proud of two things—how I play Love’s game
And the scar on your heart that has my name.


Freedom is not the right to pick and choose
Who gets its gifts. Do that, and we all lose.


Women and Blacks are part of an invasion
When “real American” means “male Caucasian.”


         A Postcard To The White House

No matter how you lie, the truth will strike back.
(And Adolf Hitler called—he wants his Reich back.)


         A Postcard To The White House

Freedom’s like Trumpcare: our masters have whored it,
And we can’t get it if we can’t afford it.


          A Postcard To The White House

You’d rather be obeyed and cheered than fair.
(And Adolf Hitler called. He loves your hair.)


This life breeds strangers far too easily.
Find kindred spirits. Make them family.


Happy Birthday, Patrick McGoohan

Count me and classify me if you can—
I’m not a number; I am a free man.


          How The White House Defines
               “Personal Freedom”

“Your rights won’t disappear—we’ll just consider
Selling them to the highest corporate bidder.”


The Christian Right believes that charity
Means never giving anything for free.


        Republican Senators on the
        Judiciary Committee Agree:

“How dare you say our nominee’s not fit
After the way we treated yours like shit?”


                   The Current Motto of
             The Department of Education

Since the well-educated want to screw us,
Let’s keep their kids so dumb they can’t see through us.


               The Trump-Approved
                   Republican Motto

Nothing you say or do can terrify us—
Unless, of course, you’re rich enough to buy us.


Like criminals will always self-impeach,
The overbearing always overreach.


             Except For My Friends

It’s not constant rejection that I mind—
It’s that the world is boneheaded and blind.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Friday, March 24, 2017

City Life

The momentary is my daily diet.
A sinking feeling is my gut’s sea level.
I seek the Holy Grail of peace and quiet
But calm and silence normalize the Devil.

All that I grasp, with passion or in rage,
Slips through my hands like powder through a grapnel.
There’s no geography—space is a stage
Where Paris gunshots trigger New York shrapnel.

Nervous by day and trembling in the dark,
I claw at any pleasure that leaves scratches—
Part of an army searching for a spark,
All packed together like a box of matches—

Burning to find a cause that’s worth the fight
And see by more than momentary light.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

My Friends All Say I’m Brilliant

My friends all think that what I write is brilliant.
Producers rate my work 2 out of 10.
Life says: “Buck up and learn to be resilient!
I could care less what comes out of your pen.”

My friends all tell me I deserve success.
Success just laughs each time I ask her out.
She makes a date, then loses my address.
Life laughs, and says: “That’s what I’m all about.”

My friends all say I’m lovable as hell.
But love is bull, and I am its torero.
Life says: “Given your heart? It’s just as well.
You’ll never hear Te Amo—just Te Quiero.”

Such highs and lows—you’d think I’d get the bends.
I don’t. I never will. Thanks to my friends.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells