This is a Fantasy Story

This is the beginning of my story.  The year was 2009.  Everything was coming apart and I didn't want to believe it.  I avoided detection by scurrying beneath the detectable income line, and ate so little it appeared I was in great shape.  I'm sure ill-advised decisions were made, but the greatest decisions I ever made happened too.

Skip years into the future.  I am avoiding failure like I cheated on it, and I am doing so well I am learning new ways to fail.  I don't want to be writing this.  Every time I drive in the car - the old, old, old Animul - I am reminded of my haste, drive a little bit faster, pay a little less attention.  I would like to get home and write.  Write on my typewriter.  Hear the loud, jagged, disjointed keys hit the paper irregularly.  I would like to watch them get stuck.  I would like to watch the letters misfire and hit the paper incorrectly.  I would like to write in a room filled with smoke (I don't smoke) in black and white.  I would like to write the last great manuscript to be sold or hung in someone's parlor for millions of dollars.  In fact, that is what I need to do, and I will do it as soon as I get home.

I seem to like losing my nerve when I need it the most.  I don't want to be writing this right now.  My head, my mind, is so very far away from my body right now.

I have many poems to write on here.  Many poems that need to be put on here.

My computer crashed a few days ago.  For weeks before that I knew it was coming.  My plan was to place them here, so I could have them somewhere.

Thankfully my computer was fixed, so I don't have to do all that copying and pasting.

That would take too much time.

This is as brief an image as we get.  It is as thin a glimpse as we can muster right now.  There is nowhere else for this to go.  There is so much more we have to do.

Try to make me proud.

No One Has E-Mailed Yet!

I can't believe this blog hasn't taken off yet!  It should be soaring through the prevailing winds of cyberspace at this point, invading people's creative minds and conquering their empty souls!...

Haha.  What did I imagine this thing was supposed to be again?  I've only told my girlfriend that this exists, and I'm pretty sure she hasn't read this in a long time.  Partly because it hasn't been contributed to in forever; partly because she reads anything I've written well before it goes on here.

Well, she hasn't read any of this.

The Dream
by Matt Catania

Soul is known in the hole
the time it takes to travel
It's a crime to e inside my mind
Dreams do not unravel.

I thought myself a poet once
Arrogance, Ignorance bliss
I was so much cooler back then
When I knew what I'd do with this

But now the road ain't so clear
Traffic jacked up other minds
Some greater, some later discovered
Most are farther behind

The crux underneath my dilemma
Crutched weakly with wry foundation
Starry lenses stand on a glass fountain
Balance light of lilies and strangulation

Oh, where am I supposed to go now?
I'm years behind earning it
If I start now, how long do I wait
If only I knew, if it was worth it

Stay in stasis in statum oasis
Static and stoic, a stalwart complacence
Statuesque faces sleep in stone cases
What world I live within

An hones hope; mine is simple
enough.  And yet, so hard to believe
In screams filling still rooms to blank faces
Do they clap just to make me leave

If I write for simple, merely my soul
what affirmation do I need
from hollow eyes, empty faces
the heirs and heiresses of the crossroads

And the cheers, they may satisfy
if well wishes fuel the soul;
Boos, rejection are contemporaries
in the halls of the honored dead.

When I stand on stage
and I ask you a question
answer my question
don't applaud me for asking

Your cheer is the opposition 
to what I want the most.
Your lax is my arch rival
but keep the host

For my dream, my dream
to play one warm summer night
in front of a hundred thousand fans
in the park seduced by the city lights

I need you to love me just enough
to make it through one night.
There has to be enough of you
out there to make this work.

Right?  Love is not required
like I require in my life.
Who is the apportioner
of my wife?

Age has come, a coming of age
the age I've reached avails no coming
Fronting the stage, the stage is a front
for a coming of age aging ages in coming

Curtain closes on stage alone
Opportune fortune reaps the reeking
Blind to my backside the band keeps playing
Blasting, air brush, gain wreaking

Delay to the curtain displays an uncertain
relation made of tenuous plans
Lucky for we - we like to agree
we shadows held in shy hands

In high school I learned of vectors
rays, lines, line segments
At infinium is still conjecture
rays aren't always straight.

Rays of the Sun are never unified
yet not one complains of inefficiency.
We make music, diffuse, and grow mystified
why fans don't fawn at the food of the door.

I startle myself until my time comes
My mind will laps and dreams fall
from my blushing mind into my hand.
My greatest mistake was to suffer withdrawal.

Gold is a silly metaphor
in a state of lethal taste
this guy's too kind, he's a killer
with that skin-eating smile on his face

I would alter the deal of my dream
had I not run the others out
My mind is regressing so successfully
an inevitable basement of doubt

Counting heartbeats is not way to live
imagining my organs isn't either
Steeping in the dread of my squishy design
is causing a common fever



(TO BE CONTINUED...)

Mine and Mine Alone

There is so much to read out there that I don't believe, unless someone can find some merit and it helps them, that these poems will have as far a reach as I would have liked.

I also feel like this is such can be so selfish.  There are far more valuable things I could be doing to offer legitimate help to those who want it, and have to settle for moral support.

I took this prayer and used it for a poem.

On Playing Inkball On My Computer At Beginner Difficulty and Getting 100,175 Points 

by Matt Catania 

“For all we ought to have

thought

and have not thought;

For all we ought to have

said

and have not said;

For all we ought to have

done

and have not done:

we ask thee

for forgiveness.”

 

I Have Put Up Enough Poems

I need to find some other people to put up on this website.  I might as well put up another poem here.  I don't feel like putting up any of my opinions on this, especially about my sound poetry class or my professor, or the people that have infested my classes in every college I've been to.  Yikes.


B_OG
by Matt Catania

What is the Rationale of Verse now?

I have the world at the tips of my fingers

I own the world but the best of it lingers

It dances with Death on the edge of coincidence

Where fate dare not bear the thought of incidence

The Song (Link)

We crank the handle on the phonograph

We tap the lyrics on the telegraph

Pray to God for daddy’s sins upon

your flesh, the ones you brought this on

yourself!

Awake into a dream

where all around you seem

oh so very real

a real you cannot feel

A freedom you cannot touch

Life as such

inside a cloud

Safety so well endowed

What if it all fell down?

Burned to the ground…

What is the Rationale of Verse Abuse?

All of our poems became excessive use

of lackluster ill-gotten effortless dialogue!

No verses, no meters …

Story has to be short.

Longer than a page

Reading becomes a burden –

Make the poem short. 

The Beginning!

Thank you for taking the time to visit this blog, "This is Our Poetry"!  My name is Matt Catania, and my hope with this blog is to create another place in our world where great, undiscovered poets can share their works, so that the world can understand what poetry is, and remember how great it can be.  This is not a blog looking for fame, money, or recognition: it's just a place where I - we - can share our deepest, strongest sentiments through our poetry, and allow others to understand the limitless possibilities poetry is capable of.  If you want to have your poems published on this blog, just e-mail me your submissions (as many at a time as you wish), to ourpoetrycontact@gmail.com.  Again, I am not going to steal works or anything like that - this blog is merely an avenue to share great, undiscovered poetry with the world.  That being said, I will not publish EVERY poem I receive - but I will consider them all, and will respond to any submitters if they wish.  Thank you for visiting this blog, and please continue creating!