Friday, January 13, 2017

My Love

His love is all possession and control.
   My love is help and generosity.
His kisses touch your skin and not your soul.
   Mine start with soul and seek transcendency.
His love sees how you look, mine who you are.
   His love is deep, but shallow next to mine.
His love is warm, but mine’s a blazing star.
   Mine sees an equal, his a concubine.
His love may stand tall now, but it will slouch
   Till derring-don’t replaces derring-do.
His love will wind up sitting on the couch
   And stare at quarterbacks instead of you.
      Mine is a love that bleeds, but never mourns,
      Because I even love you for your thorns.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Lies, Inc.

Lies are the Lugers of our Overlords
Like whining’s the champagne of the uncouth.
Each time a blatant falsehood treads the boards,
Fact-checking it makes it a form of truth.

Testing a forgery will make it real.
Exposing counterfeits proclaims their worth.
And when, not what you know, but how you feel
Is gospel, we are beasts on a flat earth.

The truth once shamed our devils; now they laugh.
The truth once made us free; now it’s our jail.
We dug its grave and wrote its epitaph:
“We loved the facts, but wed the fairy tale.”

Lies are straightforward bullets none survive
Unless they swear that two and two are five.

Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells

Friday, January 6, 2017

2016 Report Card


Movies           55
Theatre          62
Readings (attended)     22
Music          32
Classical Music   3
Choir                 3
Dance           5
Cabaret        3
Lectures        1
Art/Gallery/Museums        5
Photo Exhibitions           7
Book Award Ceremonies         1
War Correspondent Conversations       1

COMIC BOOKS        10

Graphic novels for friends’ kids   15


Aaron Burr Related     2
American History        1
Classics                     3
Elizabethan History     2
Fantasy                     4
Fiction                     14
Film Criticism            9
Humor                       6
Marlowe Related         2
Mystery                      6
Mythology                  2
Noir                           1
Non-Fiction                 5
Occult                        5
Philosophy                 2
Plays                       24
Politics                      8
Reference                  2
Science Fiction           4
Shakespeare Related      5
Theatre Criticism            9
Thriller                       1
Westerns                  10
Womens Studies          2


Film         2
Literary              3
London Review of Books   15
New York Review of Books        16
Poetry              11
Political             7

DVD’S       26

CDs                                      8
MP3 Albums (non-Techno)    12
MP3 Albums (Techno)           19
MP3 Albums (Xmas)              11 


Poetry Readings Given (headliner)                0
Poetry Readings Given (open mike)              4 

Plays I Wrote That Got Performed                 0
Plays I Wrote That Got A Reading                  3

Theatre Festivals Attended            1 

Novels        0
Memoirs about closed bars        1
        Full Length               3
        One-Act                   2
        Ten Minute               8

Stories         1

        Sonnets    239
        Poems       17
        Satires        3

Poems Written That Still Need Work      21

Poetry Collections         1 (privately printed; single copy)

In-Progress/Unfinished/Ideas      157

Submissions          38
Acceptances            0
Rejections received from 2015 Submissions     17
Rejections received from 2016 Submissions     15
Responses I don’t ever expect to get from 2015 submissions 21
Responses pending from 2016 submissions         23


Anchor Steam            2
Blue Point Ale            2
Bronx Brewery Pale Ale   1
Brooklyn Lager         20
Bud Light             3
Cleopatra IPA       2
Corona               13
Dos Equis            3
Dunkel                8
Guinness         137
Heineken           12
Lone Star           4
Narragansett       2
Newcastle          1
Nitro Stout         2
Old Speckled Hen       2
PBR           1
Route of All Evil Black Ale            3
Sapporo             2
Sierra Nevada              2
Tecate               12
West End Brews      6



Burgogne           3
Cabernet Sauvignon: glasses           40
Cabernet Sauvignon: bottles              6
Cote du Rhone                6
Malbec               19
Merlot                 2
Pinot Noir           23
Proseco              10
Rioja                    2
Rose                  30
Valpolicella           3


Baby Brother              5
Brooklyn Eagle            1
Jameson's                 52 (!)
Jameson’s & Coke        2
Spiced Rum                20
Talisker                      16


Bloody Mary          3
Margarita               6
Moscow Mule          4
Patron shots          7
Pear Martini           2
Sake  bottles          4
Vodka with pink lemonade     2
Vodka Cranberry           3


Cannabis Sativa   3


Bowling       1

Neurotic Attractions 1 
Honest To God Attractions    1
(Not like it did me any good. Fucking 2016. See below.)

New Soul Mates Met      2

Resolutions Made:     4
Resolutions Kept:      2

All-Nighters              6
Days Lost After All-Nighters       5

Working Days of Drinking (8 hours plus; not including all-nighters)      7
Hangovers     2

Nights on the town with a fetish model       0
Dinners in LA with a fetish model               1

Drinks at secret bars                4

Number of friends who voted for Trump        2
Number of Trump-voting friends who de-friended me because I wrote anti-Trump sonnets       1

Number of times mistaken for Giorgio Moroder   6
Number of times I told pretty women I wasn’t Giorgio Moroder    0
Number of times I talked in an Italian accent when mistaken for Giorgio Moroder   6

Separated at birth

Number of women who cried on my shoulder: 4
        In the street         1
        In her living room    1
        In a dive bar         2

Confessions of love received   0
Confessions of love given     1
Rejections of confessions of love given   1
Vows never to fall in love again        1
Vows I expect to be broken in 2017     1

Thursday, January 5, 2017

Life In 14 Lines - 19

I share my body with an egotist
Who thinks that life and love owe him a debt.
He's half self-centered dick, half masochist,
And all I hate about the way I get.

When someone else comes first, he cries "Unfair!"
He's generous so he'll be deified.
Unless you worship him, you just don't care.
Unless he's wounded, then it isn't pride.

He dreams of shouting what can't be unsaid.
When it comes to resentment, he's a whiz.
I choke him and he comes back from the dead.
He sees the worst because that's what he is:

Jealous, malevolent, melodramatic,
My heart's dark twin—the madman in my attic.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Welcome To Trump's America

Elections are a bitch who’ll only say
She loves you so that she can get you hard
Or wet—and when you’re fucked, she’ll flit away
And give you nothing but her disregard.

Government is a rich self-centered ass
Who’s never touched a doorknob in his life,
Demands subservience each time he’s crass,
And treats the people like a trophy wife.

Democracy’s a corporate enterprise
Where hope is cultivated by degrees
By vassals overworked under the eyes
Of hoods, collaborators, and Legrees.

Freedom’s the bone on which our guard dogs teethe
While huddled masses pay for air to breathe.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

If We Want Happiness

Whenever happiness stands still, it’s sad.
   Wherever sadness stands, it digs deep holes.
The pits are what make our low hungers glad.
   A ladder is what Love is to our souls.
Whenever Love is silent, Hatred screams;
   But it will whimper when Love whispers once.
Pity is not what weakens, but redeems.
   Envy is like a teacher who’s a dunce.
We are all lost inside what we have found
   To cling to: all the stuff, and not the thing.
The keys we use to free us keep us bound.
   We dream as if there’s no awakening.
      If Love’s our dish, then struggle is the bill.
      If we want happiness, we can’t stand still.

Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells

Friday, December 16, 2016

21st Century Life Lessons

We’re taught to think being confused is sinning
Instead of what it is—the starting line
Where every question about what we’re winning
Reveals the race’s sponsor and design.

We’re taught that we were born to be productive
So that we will not question why we work
Or who it profits, or how self-destructive
It is to cling to dreams and die a clerk.

We’re taught that we all have a chance to win
As long as we commit to play a game
That profiles every player by their skin
While preaching that inside we’re all the same.

And when we’re stained by all that’s foul, we’re taught
To lap it up and overlook the rot.

Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Love Is Christmas - The 2016 Xmas Music Compilation

The thing about Bowie is, he was always five years ahead of the curve. He did it before everybody. So you can forgive me for thinking that, since he decided to check out in January, we’re all doomed. (And then Alan Rickman heard that Liev Schreiber was going to be doing Liaisons Dangereuses, said “It is beyond my control” so it broke your heart, and exited stage left, a gentleman all the way.)

That doomed feeling is such a winter thing, isn’t it? Whether you celebrate a birth, gather around a tree, light a brace of candles, get put through the wringer by a bunch of sadistic ghosts, or stamp your staff with glee, it’s all about birth and renewal in a waste of death and the withered, it’s all about love as a candle in the darkness, love as warmth against the chill of pettiness, love as an oasis of hope in the smug and pompous desert of contempt.

That desert takes many forms. That coldness always comes from new directions. That winter always feels like it will never end. But it does. As everything does.

Except love.

It’s who we are. It’s how we do. If there's a star in the sky that guides us, that's its name. And if we follow it, one day we'll look around and see no stranger's face. 

Merry happy, everybody.


The 2016 Xmas Compilation: Love Is Christmas

Part One: Love Is Who We Are

Clarence Puts It All In Perspective
Love Is ChristmasSara Bareilles
Joseph, Better You Than MeThe Killers
RiverAshley Monroe
Christmas Is All AroundSleeping At Last
Silent NightLisa Harrington
SilenceJack O’Rourke
Please Santa, Let’s GoVyvienne Long
Redribbon FoxesA Fine Frenzy
RudyBe Good Tanyas
Clothe Yourself For The WinterSofia Talvik
Santa Claus Is Coming To TownThe Harmony Grits
I Want A Boy For ChristmasThe Del Vetts
White ChristmasThe Ravens
I’ll Stay Home (New Year’s Eve)The Creators
Lonely This ChristmasLos Kingdom
MistletoeJustice Crew
Happy Xmas (War Is Over)John Holt
WonderlandHeidi Klum
Christmas Isn’t Christmas ‘Til You Get HereKylie Minogue

Part Two: Love Is How We Do

Text Me Merry ChristmasStraight No Chaser (featuring Kristen Bell)
To Christmas! (The Drinking Song)Straight No Chaser
A New Year’s CarolJoel Graham
Oh Santa (Bad World)Freedom Fry
Fairytale Of New YorkNo Use For A Name
Santa BabyThe Dollyrots
Angels We Have Heard On HighBad Religion
All I Want For Christmas Is YouThe Dollyrots
Santa Claus Is Coming To TownThe Reverend Horton Heat
Sweet ChristmasShonen Knife
Another Rock ‘n’ Roll ChristmasGary Glitter
Deck The Hall Boogie!Asleep At The Wheel
Egg Nog TwistThree Elfmen
Russian Sleigh SongThe Three Suns
Carol of The BellsThe Last Bison
The Christmas Massacre of Charlie BrownDJ John
St Nick The KnifeVoicedude
Black ChristmasPoly Styrene
Bonus Track

Monday, December 12, 2016

Life In 14 Lines - 18

I have a lot of faith, but not in me.
I blame myself for what I can’t prevent.
I feel desire, but never hopefully.
My tenant’s Love—she owes me years of rent.

I take a lot of pains and feel each one.
I know the score, but not what I can play.
Jokes are my bullets, loneliness my gun.
I know the island as a castaway.

I trust in promises more than I should.
I walk into the minefield like a native.
My soul is always greedy for the good
And selfless when it comes to the creative.

I treat Life like a gift, when it’s a loan,
And write all stories well except my own.

Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

The Crosswalk

Walk sign turns red. A woman waits to cross.
   She pulls a tiny mirror out and primps.
She checks her eyeliner; applies lip gloss;
   Then looks right at me—and I get a glimpse
Of oceans no one's ever sailed. And all
   The unsailed deep in me that no one knows—
Because we meet the world as an atoll
   That hides a continent—sees her and glows
Like the Atlantic under a full moon.
   For one brief moment, that look stops me short
Like the loud bursting of some kid’s balloon
   Or the bang of a .38’s report.
      The solid earth cracks open, eggshell-thin.
      Do I jump off, or let myself fall in?

Some people open up like ancient caves.
   Some have thick plastic on their heirloom chairs.
Some have a cellar packed with hidden graves
   And some run classrooms full of questionnaires.
No matter what or how much the world sees,
   We all contain the inaccessible—
A country of uncategorized trees
   And cryptic creatures by the barrowful—
Unglimpsed, no matter how much we reveal
   About ourselves—no matter who we say
We are. What we portray, as if it’s real,
   Is like one planet in the Milky Way.
      That’s what I see—and seeing, recognize—
      The moment that I meet this woman’s eyes.

How can I fool myself into believing
   That I'll know you, I think, when under all
I splash through is a hidden ocean, heaving
   With tides unknown, held in by the sea wall
That is your public face? Even your eyes
   Only go down so far. And while there’s much
In them to satisfy and tantalize,
   There’s bone beneath that skin which I can’t touch.
It doesn’t matter if or how I’ve cared.
   What only matters is the ground you yield.
I only get to swim in what’s been shared.
   I only get to map what’s been revealed.
      And even if you yield it all, there’ll be
      A world—a life—that I will never see.

We have eons in us, but all we know
   Is moments. They sum up our history.
And if we're lucky, when they're shared, they grow
   Into new islands on a common sea.
No—not an island—it’s a mountaintop
   No one can measure without long deep dives.
We live between the darkness and the drop
   And when we die, the tip’s all that survives.
And now and then we meet at a crosswalk
   Between where we are now and where we’re going—
A pebble from an undiscovered rock;
   The splinter from a tree that’s always growing—
      And wonder—will we let this spark ignite?
      Or smile and part, when the walk sign turns white?

Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells