October 31, 2009

she would set a flashlight out for him every night

condensation on my left eye
by matt freire

she would set a pillow out for him every night
because it’s cold out at night
and a breeze would set in
and the sun would come out
but it did not warm
there is always this chill
there is always this unknown
but don't ask me about it
because I suddenly don't remember

she would set a blanket out for him every night
because its cold out at night
and he would climb the walls
but the walls came down
and he would take the rubble
and he would build a castle
and he got distracted
and he destroyed that castle
but don't ask me the castle’s name
because my mouth will suddenly stop working

she would set a flashlight out for him every night
because it’s dark out at night
and he traversed hidden obstacles
getting farther than otherwise
yet eventually batteries drain of their strength
and the light flickers out
and because he depended on the light so long
he becomes lost
but don't ask how long it took for his eyes to get adjusted
because I momentarily looked the other way

she would set a bowl of water out for him ever night
because its cold out at night
and the water turns to ice
and he tries to warm the ice
because he's dehydrated
but his breath isn't strong enough
and his hands aren't warm enough
and the water stays frozen
and he coughs
but don't ask me if he survived
because I will suddenly lose interest

because you convinced me to become

slow leak
by matt freire

Thoughts like moths
caught in low lit lampshades
fluttering till they burn

trying to express me
not to impress you
but I listened to you just the same

what a fool I was
what a blockhead I became
because you convinced me to become

something tethered
like a frozen bee
suddenly tied to way too short a string

seeping gas
open mouths depleting oxygen
closed minds convincing otherwise

that I'm needy like an infant

something in my back pocket
by matt freire

the problem with me is I think to much
typing away like it helps me swallow my lunch
and I clutter the page
with undecipherable babble
thinking this helps
but its just mindless ramble

I like to say I'm resilient
but my life has shown
that I'm needy like an infant
still sucking on the tit
with a mild contentment
too afraid to get away
but too far out to stay

so desperately
I pull some vocabulary out
but I lost my voice
and I can’t scream it out
and you’re so far away
and even if you heard it
you'd ignore it anyway
so I keep it to myself
in a mumble undecipherable
and I tap the return key
because there is more to the thought

the problem with my logic
is there are too many loopholes
too many what ifs
and too many pitfalls
and many pockets I sport
and many outfits I wear
but only two pockets count
but my hands are warming there

and when I think about me
I think about of pictures of me
because I forget about me
if these images didn't succeed
and a photo album is drawn
from the bookshelf in the corner
and on the first page
is when I first met me
but I didn't really like me
but as I got to know me
in different photos
that show me
the different quirks
that know me
and just between you and me
I still didn't really like me
and I guess that’s another problem with me
I don't really think at all
I just type away
watching my spit fall
seven seconds go by
till I hear the splat
so that’s roughly seven stories high
but thats just a rough estimate

I confuse myself
I save random objects
and keep them in my pockets
and I have no use for them
but I think what if

and I tap the return key
because I'm a stubborn
self analyst
that carries his wallet in his back pocket
so when I sit
I lean to the left

October 20, 2009

fading is a common theology

Siren song
by matt freire

there's this ringing
constant ringing
medic told me to enjoy it
because when it stops
i'll never hear that tone again
the sound of the fading
the hum of the damned cells
the tone that soon for me
will be
non existent
existence is resistance
and sustainable movement
and the death lullaby in my ears
drifts me from contentiousness
to rsvp at a large banquet
a never ending table is laid out
in a massive and spacious building
where everything is feng shui
yet surrounded by people that annoy
where saffron tickles the nose
and congregations click with upturned stares
through the windows can be seen nothing but static space
darken urban deserts
that no one cares to ponder
because the feast is always about to start
stale food is the appetizer
and bad re-runs play on a jumbo-tron zeppelin circling the room
too drunk to stand
too sober to stay
or is it the other way
speechless I am
to the words of their tongue
a gloated pride murks
and contempt is at its utmost
startled I wake
A blank sheet of electronic paper illuminates the room
a small coalition of bugs hover around the light
0400 hours
but for sanity's sake
4 a.m.
There's this buzzing in my ear
airborne insects are attracted
to the death hum
to the siren's song
my hand shews the fliers away
and I cover my face
peeking between the light
breaking though my fingers
placed to the now
the place shall remain undisclosed
almost fading into decibels not audible
by any senses

fading is a common theology
in an every-day minute
and every other second
a tone will come and go
to the songs whispered
by names not known or unknown

like hardships now won't matter

Photo: Spc. Frank Hardcastle from the 4th Brigade Combat Team 25th Infantry Division, Focus Targeting Force, listens to music between mission on forward operating base Sharana, Afghanistan, 19 Jul. 2009. (U.S. Army photo by Spc. Matthew Freire / RELEASED)

It all gets better
by matt freire

hard to breathe
back is killing me
moving too quickly
makes me feel dizzy
hard to sleep because
pains out to get me
but it all gets better
that's what I tell myself
nothing lasts forever
mountains erode
lakes dry up
suns burn out
even everlasting gobstoppers loose their taste
but change
that will last forever
and because of that
time is the best medication
just look at people's hardships
a few hundred years ago
there was a family that was average
their lives were so so
then strife found their lives
and struggles materialized
and the food did run dry
and infections killed lives
and then a little bit of time
a few hundred years or so
and poof
no more hardship for them
but it doesn't matter now
does it
like hardships now won't matter
in a hundred years or so
because it all gets better
at least I tell myself so

there is an end and someday we'll get there

Shake it off
by matt freire

like scattered rounds
glistening the horizon
rolls seconds together
like cigarettes roll
breaths together
and days come together
and sets the same set
the same steady upgrade of death
the same building violent force
I'm now set in
this set
that's been set
that's gaining in sects
and gaining in deaths
erected a nostalgia
and I fell into a nap
to realize I'm wide awake
some things you can't shake off
like the last bit of piss
that drips down your leg after you pull up your pants
but there is an end
and someday we'll get there
but sometimes it's hard to admit
you pissed on your leg

my finger Brailles the wall for the light switch

knife fight
by matt freire

the cold has started
more layers I model
my air conditioner
that didn't work when the heat was ever present
now won't turn off
so it's even colder then afghan should be
but it's remarkably easy to sleep
0100 spindle of cd get knocked off my dresser
I jump up and grab my hidden seven-inch blade
thinking jihadist were invading
my worried cries echo
as a swishing sound
searches in the dark
stabbing in the dark
this is one they will not take alive
this one will not go with out a fight
my finger Brailles the wall for the light switch
knocking stuff over
knife still ready
to flick on the light
and I spy mice scattering
and I spy liquid stagnating
all over my floor
in the commotion
I must have
an open water bottle full of urine
it's afghanistan
yes I have piss bottles
all over my room
I like the wide mouth gatorade bottles the best
easier to relieve the bladder in the room
than to get dressed
and walk a few hundred feet
call me lazy
but call me efficient
would have been smart to put the cap back on the bottle though
so call me furious
I's still disorientated
and I spot a two eyed
4 inch
sleep-disturbing menace
sitting on a folded pile of my clothes
just staring
acting all innocent
but I knowing the difference
I charged
only to dull my blade
stabbing holes in my clothes
and bless my humble resting quarters with a fine aroma
the scent of stale piss
only to loose my foe
and my pride
so now I am wide awake
wiping up my own piss
with clothes I just altered
I head down to the chow hall
because I can always eat
alone I sit
flip through the tv channels for an hour
eat seven bowls of cereal
with juice box haji skim milk
and two black bananas
and I realize
I have to get up for a mission in a few hours
so I head back to my hooch
to the familiar stench of my piss
and yes
no mice in sight
I have three hours till I have to get up
plenty of time
I reach out to finger the light switch when I notice movement
on my inanimate bed
some freaking cat snuggling up with my pillow

afghan interrogation comes with a realistic chill

the selector lever
by matt freire

engulfing darkness
swallows the sun's light
we make chase
the target has fled the scene
more darkness deliberates
the type that chokes uncertainty
the tone of shots ringing out
there is no sanctuary
be weary
there's nothing like unknown shots in the dark
as i peer through a pinhole world of black and green
weapons mark sectors
as yes bring it
slips out my clenched teeth
weapons swap places
instinctively select a field of fire to fix on
more shots ring out
to the tone of the night getting darker
so swapping decisions I juggle
as I rhythmically tap my safety
target is captured crackles over i-coms
an elation wafts as we re group
this is an afghan mission
we are just providing security
they are doing what we want them to do
take control of their country
this is a bad guy
and afghan said
this is good thing
another said
he has killed many for sure
rough judgments are roughly pressed
barrel locks down the back of the head
pressed cold on the blind fold
afghan interrogation comes with a realistic chill
too bad my camera stopped working
greatest shot I ever witnessed
as my merchant of death and I provided security
a mental imprint I shall never release
in idle chatter
this was a bad guy
and afghan said
this is good thing
another said
he won't kill any no more
we mounted back up
to hit another location
that their prisoner said he owned
my moment catcher started working again

October 9, 2009

six more years he contracted

pocket knife and a broken light

don’t mind it he don’t
he say he don’t mind it
and i know him he don’t
he don’t mind it he don’t
power out
withered discolored fruit and dried trout
hot sauce hits the spot
the spot that churns the bowels
never-ending sniffles
eventually turn to crystals
that bleed when excavated
he debated if he’s crazy
that’s just crazy he ain't crazy
and he don’t mind it he don’t
don’t mind you and your support
or French freedom fries
and frilly foaming
sundays is the same as everdays
fridays sound cool
but he don’t know the last time he landed on one
days are never ending and always ending
he say
at least it seems like to me
it all gets better
just wait you'll see
but he can’t think of a better way to be
he don’t know how to fill his fill
chapped around his mouth
dark blood dries in the cracks
and black spots dot his sight
eyes keep searching
lights flicker as he knifes out hang nails
13 of the little bastards he knifes out
wondering how he can have more hang nails
than nails on his scarred hands
from random moments
he don’t mind but he never notices
how many cuts he has on his hands
they is all over
but he don’t mind it he don’t
over it’s all over sometime
and he wants to eat all the pie while it’s still warm
while it's still there
six more years he contracted
six more years he be active
left ears not as active
not too responsive
slightly passive
unlike his reactions
forcible and compacted
skin tight on the nose
and rough hands and elbows
but he say he don’t mind it
and i know him he don’t
creases defining
around his eye sockets and mouth
shoulder pops in and out
he talks to himself by word of mouth
dogs howl all through the night
some 5.56 stills the night
and he questions how a hair can sprout in that location
chaffed thighs is his combatant
man he thinks he’s had it
but he know he don’t
he gets past it
Vaseline a secret tactic
underwear need not have it

it is so much darker at night here in afghanistan
were NVGs don’t even help
where thinking happy thoughts
and humming tunes in your head
only muffled the dark’s energy

he does not mind
mind it he does not
but his mind does mind
minding musical chair thoughts
that tip tap on his right side
as the left jots off
the brain does mind
and he wants to make up lost time
but he does not rush thoughts
his mind mingles in thought
though he knows
he does not know
but he don't mind it he don't

as a wet hand wipes off the glass


better said in a mirror
as fog dulls the reflection
better said in a mirror
as a wet hand wipes off the glass
better not talk too loud
someone better might hear me
better to not care
but statement to question mark
better is better

[eastern europe]

[south west utah]