The Work of Matthew Coleman

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The Work of Matthew Coleman
29 / Male
East London, London and South East, UK
Last Login: 10/8/2009

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The Work of Matthew Coleman's Playlist

New Town by Life Without Buildings

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The Work of Matthew Coleman's Latest Blog Entries

Aug 17, 2009 11:23 AM IMAGE & WORD 5
Aug 4, 2009 10:03 AM NEW WEBSITE
Jul 3, 2009 2:41 PM IMAGE & WORD 4
Jun 3, 2009 9:24 AM IMAGE & WORD 3
May 27, 2009 11:04 AM IMAGE & WORD 2

The Work of Matthew Coleman's Local Reviews

The Work of Matthew Coleman's Friend Space (Top 24)

The Work of Matthew Coleman's Comments

KENNETH KHANH DU is The…

Aug 21 2008 8:39 AM

Dear friend: Fascinating bulletin read on T.S. Elliot, but be sure to post your own work as well! I like to finish reading your blogs, but it's 1:35am and I have to work tomorrow. :-)Kenneth

Fifth Avenue, NYC

Between her supple breasts nestled a sapphire ring.
Twelve rings of different stones in all. I keep my eyes
On the one before heading out the door. Each brings
Forward fond memories of shared moments. Goodbye

To the Big Apple, to the city that never
Sleep! To the glitter of Broadway where we hold hands
And bond with naked cowboys and street performers.
Where business and pleasure often collide. Tonight

I find myself with a citrine ring cracking jokes
While taking her photographs. Romance in the air,
I am thrilled by her photogenic smiles. She spoke
Of makeup. I focused on those delicate hairs

Of her. Now she’s gone. I remain with a ruby
Red ring. The thing was so large that she wore it all
Day and night! Our friends were quite impressed, but truly
Hated the way she address the undress. I left

With a diamond ring still in its original
Box! Hoping that one day, I can lend her my soul!

8/21/08 De Novo Sonnet
Haiku on Friday

Aug 19 2008 7:29 AM

Welcome, friend! We hope you will join us in haiku-ing on Fridays!
le tranoulisme┐

Aug 18 2008 6:53 PM

Depending on what you are after, choose an area, a more or less populous city, a more or less lively street. Build a house. Furnish it. Make the most of its decoration and surroundings. Choose the season and the time. Gather together the right people, the best records and drinks. Lighting and conversation must, of course, be appropriate, along with the weather and your memories.
If your calculations are correct, you should find the outcome satisfying.
Cat in Tomato Sauce

Aug 2 2008 2:35 AM

The Gypsy and the Wind

Playing her parchment moon
Precosia comes
along a watery path of laurels and crystal lights.
The starless silence, fleeing
from her rhythmic tambourine,
falls where the sea whips and sings,
his night filled with silvery swarms.
High atop the mountain peaks
the sentinels are weeping;
they guard the tall white towers
of the English consulate.
And gypsies of the water
for their pleasure erect
little castles of conch shells
and arbors of greening pine.

Playing her parchment moon
Precosia comes.
The wind sees her and rises,
the wind that never slumbers.
Naked Saint Christopher swells,
watching the girl as he plays
with tongues of celestial bells
on an invisible bagpipe.

Gypsy, let me lift your skirt
and have a look at you.
Open in my ancient fingers
the blue rose of your womb.

Precosia throws the tambourine
and runs away in terror.
But the virile wind pursues her
with his breathing and burning sword.

The sea darkens and roars,
while the olive trees turn pale.
The flutes of darkness sound,
and a muted gong of the snow.

Precosia, run, Precosia!
Or the green wind will catch you!
Precosia, run, Precosia!
And look how fast he comes!
A satyr of low-born stars
with their long and glistening tongues.

Precosia, filled with fear,
now makes her way to that house
beyond the tall green pines
where the English consul lives.

Alarmed by the anguished cries,
three riflemen come running,
their black capes tightly drawn,
and berets down over their brow.

The Englishman gives the gypsy
a glass of tepid milk
and a shot of Holland gin
which Precosia does not drink.

And while she tells them, weeping,
of her strange adventure,
the wind furiously gnashes
against the slate roof tiles.
Cat in Tomato Sauce

Jul 28 2008 10:49 PM

Light breaks where no sun shines;
Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart
Push in their tides;
And, broken ghosts with glow-worms in their heads,
The things of light
File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones.

A candle in the thighs
Warms youth and seed and burns the seeds of age;
Where no seed stirs,
The fruit of man unwrinkles in the stars,
Bright as a fig;
Where no wax is, the candle shows its hairs.

Dawn breaks behind the eyes;
From poles of skull and toe the windy blood
Slides like a sea;
Nor fenced, nor staked, the gushers of the sky
Sprout to the rod
Divining in a smile the oil of tears.

Night in the sockets rounds,
Like some pitch moon, the limit of the globes;
Day lights the bone;
Where no cold is, the skinning gales unpin
The winter's robes;
The film of spring is hanging from the lids.

Light breaks on secret lots,
On tips of thought where thoughts smell in the rain;
When logics die,
The secret of the soil grows through the eye,
And blood jumps in the sun;
Above the waste allotments the dawn halts.
Nina Haagen Dazs

May 9 2008 9:24 PM

Nothing is more fearful than imagination without taste (Goethe).
RichardRichard Kovitch

May 19 2008 8:27 AM

With link to the Provocative Pages....
Cecilie

May 28 2008 1:46 PM

xx
Better Days

Jun 8 2008 10:28 AM

digging the vibes

x
FeverFever Zine

Jun 22 2008 12:13 AM

ISSUE 3 NOW ON SALE AT CONCRETE HERMIT + LIK & NEON + ONLINE:)
not yours

Jun 26 2008 5:16 AM

you look like Vinci Painting
¡

Jul 7 2008 5:55 AM
RichardRichard Kovitch

May 20 2008 8:24 AM

Replete with link to the Provocative Pages!
PRINCE OF POVERTY

Apr 6 2008 12:19 PM

..
la société du spectacle 1
by gazobu..
s o n i a

Apr 27 2008 9:38 AM
daniel

Apr 22 2008 9:04 PM

i like it most in your reading video when you say 'bottom'.
JasonJason Michel

Apr 20 2008 12:25 PM
PRINCE OF POVERTY

Apr 18 2008 12:51 PM

ONE with eyes the fairest
Cometh from his dwelling,
Some one loves thee, rarest,
Bright beyond my telling.
In thy grace thou shinest
Like some nymph divinest,
In her caverns dewy:--
All delights pursue thee,
Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing,
Shall thy head be wreathing.

LOVE SONG (from Cyclops)
by: Euripides
David F. Hoenigman

Apr 18 2008 1:08 PM

my Word Riot interview please click beetles