MATTHEW LOVECRAFT PRESENTS - FRuM SCRATCh [an electronic chapbook: of sorts]: (dE-jA-vU)

MATTHEW LOVECRAFT PRESENTS - FRuM SCRATCh [an electronic chapbook: of sorts]: (dE-jA-vU): THAT FEELING, YOU CAN ONLY SAY WHAT IT IS IN FRENCH... (dE-jA-vU)  I kinda miss it. That old feeling of getting it right;...

(dE-jA-vU)

THAT FEELING, YOU CAN ONLY SAY WHAT IT IS IN FRENCH...













(dE-jA-vU) 

I kinda miss it.

That old feeling
of getting it right;
real quick - real fast...

I kind of hate it...
That feeling of trying to replicate the past.

It makes me sick!

I want to love it...
That moment, that feeling:
thick & deep.

When life -
and space & time;
align.

When the past tense is made present.
When  I can reap the rewards of the seeds sown...

- Matthew Lovecraft

3 - DESTINY

What if I’d gotten it right that day? That first time I had the chance to play that game. When I took the plate and swung and struck the ball and hit it all the way out over the fence.

When I ran for first base, then sped towards second. Why did I panic, look around and think where is third at? I couldn't see it. I couldn't find the next place and I thought to myself... the point is to get to home base. That’s where I want to be.

MR. DESTINY 1990 - YouTube

So, I took off across the diamond and I found myself where I had begun but everyone told me to run back. Go to second, then on to third, but I couldn’t see why I’d do something so absurd. Yet, I did what they said and then some kid found the ball and I was stalled by the third base coach and never allowed to make the most of my success.

The next kid up to bat struck out and I never got around to home base. So, I wonder what would have changed if I had gone from first to second to third and on to home base. Would my life might have spun off in an entirely different direction?

5 - MEMORANDUM POST-FACTUM

I am two. Mom is serving peas for dinner. It’s just her and me. I run from the kitchen. How did I get out of the high-chair?

Thick black lines on thin red carpet; argyle under my feet. Diamonds that aren’t diamonds - aren’t squares. The rug reminds me of swanky old carpet from the 70’s. It makes sense. 

I rush from the room on little legs. Was I wearing my bib overalls? The ones I’m always wearing in pictures from the way back then?

I’m not scared. I’m laughing. It’s a game - Get Away From the Peas. Were they peas? Or was it green gunk from a baby food jar? Do two-year-olds eat baby food? Do two-year-olds eat peas? How did I get out of the high-chair?

I lunge into the living room. I race to the right. I huff it down the hallway and into the back bedroom.

She’s going to find me! Where do I hide!?

I creep into the closet and close the door behind me. I hold my breath, but somehow she knows. Somehow she shows up in front of the closet door and opens it. Was she smiling? Was she happy? Was it a game for her too? Feed the Baby?

She picks me up and carries me back to the kitchen. That’s where the memory ends.

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MOURNING GLORY (B-SIDES & E-SIDES)

People are pretty forgiving

when it comes to other
people's families. The only
family that ever horrifies
you is your own.

             - Douglas Coupland

EVERY MORNING.

Alarm. 

Awake.

Another Day.

He rises at the crack of dawn, and if he hurries he’ll be gone before the others are up. Breakfast, news, shower, shave – suppress the urge to fell that rage. Go to work and slowly die, but keep the life, keep your wife... ignore the daily painful treadmill life.

Keep the house and keep your car; all the things that matter far more than fulfillment – whatever that is....

Second riser... Takes her pills. Never mind the lack of thrills in life that she craves. Makeup - before she falls behind, get ahead of that cruel mistress, time.

Husband gone. Kid still in bed she takes a moment to reflect on how life was before the grind got to her.

The child rises, parents gone, no surprises, same old song and dance. No one there to make a breakfast, no one there for hugs and kisses.

Backpack filled with homework started but not done – that stopped being fun a long time ago, when Mom and Dad quit caring.

Watch cartoons, catch the bus - another day, why cause a fuss..? No one cares as he stares out the window not talking about how wrong life feels.

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5 - BLACK EYED SUSAN

Scared.

Angry.

Hiding.

Waiting.

Fighting the urge to breathe just in case he hears her. A child, wildly wishing she were somewhere else in another place where her face wasn’t a punching bag. Sad. Afraid to cry, so instead she lies to herself and says:

"It’ll be okay."

Someday when she’s all grown up she won’t be stuck in this town. She swears she won’t get run into the ground by this uncontrollable thing called Fate.

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2 - OLD FENCE POST

How well I have learned that there is

no fence to sit on between heaven 

and hell. There is a deep, wide gulf, 

a chasm, and in that chasm is no 

place for any man.

                             -          Johnny Cash

OLD FENCE POST

We set that first post one summer day when I was 9 or 10 I’d say. Cut down trees, and strung barbed wire, following straight lines of earth scorched by fire that we used to mark our place. This is ours, stay out we’d say, with a sign at the gate.

At 36, half were replaced -putting new ones in with haste. So much to do; the kids, the farm, the wife and work and well - what harm could come to an empty pasture? 

I saw no imminent disaster on the horizon other than a marriage ending and it wasn’t worth defending something that had been going wrong for so long. 

I’m 62 and it’s ’08 and every time I look out at that fence gate the woods grown up between the field and house I stop and think, I’ve been a fool for neglecting things and break out my tools. I go out to the field and look and see the work that lasted years and think of all it took to put that fence up the first time.

I stood on one side, then the other. Straddled rusted old barbed wire, and started to cut and dig, taking a break to take a swig of ice bold lemonade from my work jug. 

I filled in holes, and replaced wire, and took out some posts with an ire that bespoke old age. I worked for days, until I came to that first old post, the one that meant the most to me because it reminded me of the time with my father and I didn’t’ bother to dig it up or a cement it in, but took some time to let time soak through from way back when I was 9 or 10 and the life I’d lived in between, I thought of all that I had seen, and felt; gained and lost. 

That Old Fence Post would still be there when I was gone and I had no fear that all would be well enough at least, in these short years ahead of me.

MISSED CONNECTIONS 
PSYCHIC READINGS

 $1

(PHONE, SKYPE OR VIDEO CHAT AVAILABLE)

_____________________________________

RECEIVE A FUN, ENTERTAINING

 PSYCHIC READING

WITH EVERY ONLINE

E-BOOK PURCHASE

OF

__________________________________________

INSIDE OUT 

(a collection of poems)

BY

MATTHEW LOVECRAFT

SUBMIT PAYMENT VIA PAYPAL

englandt@gmail.com

WHAT'S YOUR SIGN?

VISIT MATTHEW LOVECRAFT'S
HOROSCOPE OF THE SECRET SIGN

MATTHEW LOVECRAFT IS AN AUTHOR & PARANORMAL ENTERTAINER. 

HIS BOOK 

~ INSIDE OUT~
(a collection of poems)

IS AVAILABLE ON
THE 
KINDLE
FROM 

 &

IN VARIOUS OTHER ELECTRONIC FORMATS