Tag Archives: Matheus Macedo

Start to End

by Matheus Macedo


Shiny golden roads, all set in a rolling rows, twisting turning home, under trees and groves and stones, the boy is left and gone, now a young man roams, from wise stillness bred, kissing lips they share and share.

Bright and innocent, holding hands, they bike and walk, and there they stand, to dances they both long to go and dance they do, on tippy toes.

Sizzling sweat of summer skin, feeling, grabbing, whimpering. Seeking secrets, secret keepers one by one revealed in leapers, daring brave they long to know and under covers, freezing toes.

She is pretty tiny glee, hopes and dreams both concede.

Lost and gone his adolescence, for eternal love he now possesses,
but through the sneak of living lies, their love is sick and soon it dies, she goes away without surprise, and he is left with no goodbyes.

A broken man he’ll learn again, to be a boy, from start to end.

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January

by Matheus Macedo


Snow blankets waved; weren’t we expecting that?

The clouds turned themselves to soft white ice and rained down to us. For us, just for now.

It won’t always be this; this cold, this night, and nights before won’t be again. But then…

Tonight the sky softened, the air froze, and beneath it we were stupid.

Safe from judge and jury. Safe, simply.

And separate we will sleep. But someday soon we will gather again. Laugh about then, worry for the now.

But it is only January, and there’s so much to look forward to.

Stardust Rant

by Matheus Macedo


Are we the insignificant ones? If our planet, minuscule and lost in some corner of a vast and never ending universe is the only one like it, the only one with children growing up too fast, songs and rhymes, art and arguments, and all the things we think about, cry about, yell about, love.

All the things we live for, die for…

The scientists, whom I love and admire, say we are but a speck of dust left over from the death of Goliath stars billions of years ago. They say we are nothing but the residue.

And still, in the face of all these facts, I don’t feel insignificant.

There is something more in me and it’s saying I am important. I am supposed to be here. Fleeting as my time here is, I don’t believe it is an accident but the result of a Millennia of careful planning.
I look up at the night, seeing but a fraction of what is out there and think;

If we truly are stardust, who’s to say the stars weren’t made to make us?

Red line

by Matheus Macedo


This is what you see:
A girl in dad’s clothes, books in front like armor.
She doesn’t see you. Doesn’t want to.
She talks to monsters in her head,
plans for ones in her bed.
A quiet screaming thing,
a girl with no last name.
She’ll grow and bloom
and you won’t know, that this,
your daughter,
she’s lost control.

These Things

by Matheus Macedo


I still have all those songs in my heart, ones I never put on paper. Still carry all those laughs we never used, just in case. I have a kiss for you, safe and sound. And tears too, mostly new ones. Presents, a lot of them, one for every year of your life. The love is kept somewhere inside, in a tube maybe, deep among the gears.

I still have all those valiant moments stored up, going in first and turning the all the lights on. Killing spiders. And Poems, from a boy to a girl, they make me blush after I read them. I have ambitions to impress you. Lies to say to you, only white lies. I still have the nerves I never used, to ask you out, to propose, before we make love. I have vomit to clean from when you drink too much.

I still have arguments and storming out.

I have unread books, because I want you to read them to me. I still have words, inside like secrets. Our children have eyes to me, dark like yours. I will live a long time because my heart is in storage, barely being used. And when I die, I’ll die with you and all these things I carry.

Always

by Matheus Macedo


I was a scarecrow standing in a field, and the corn weighing down the stocks. When I was a boy I was the wind, sometimes I am the rain. And I have even been snow, falling broken pieces.

I have been many things, and they have all been me. I am now and will continue to be. All things are forever and brief, I know that now.

Where once there were stars, now there are people, and stars we’ll be again.

I have been a lot of things, always on my own.