Dave Matthes's Blog - Posts Tagged "journey"

Current Literary Project in the works:
"In This House, We Lived, and We Died"

-A spiritual journey of an old man masked in doubt and material blindness turns into his last waltz, as he returns to his hometown to find it deserted and bare in a last attempt to piece together the shattered remains of his all but dissipated memory.

Dedicated to and inspired by every single one of the dozens of old, lonely men I've met at bars, parks, and everywhere else, whom I've shared hours of conversation with.

It will basically be a combination of themes and elements as well as written styles gathered from stories like "A Christmas Carol", "What Dreams May Come", "The Divine Comedy", "The Road", as well as many others.

Cover Design:
https://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphoto...

For more info and more updates:
https://www.facebook.com/Theslutalway...

Did some scrounging and found these silly little lyrical ditties I wrote back around 2006ish...some of these will be polished up and used in the book I'm currently writing: In This House We Lived and We Died ...



I. HER

"The sun sets on another day,
yet this day is different than previous days passed.
Eyes once sheltered are now aware of the mind's true surroundings,
Nothing can change what is now that the definition of what is real is true.
Running nonstop ceases in the darkness,
curled fists relax against the wind.
Truly this is bliss, truly this is what was meant to be.
Her eyes are like a mountainscape of eternity,
the pink sun casting its gaze upon the land.
Could this be true, that after trudging through the fire,
I have found what all hearts yearn for?
Only time can tell."


II. UNSATISFIED

"Why is it that when we seek life we knock on death's door...?
Why is it that when we strive for peace it requires blood...?
Why is hypocrisy more important than truth...?
Deemed resolute we fall to our knees under pain of humility,
we cut deeper to cleanse our souls of purgury,
as ghosts we are seen clearer than the living.
Is it such a sin to forget this life and to seek out another?
If we find the door is it an act of suicide...?
Or is it an act of self-improvement?


III. IMPERATIVE

"If it were about you it would be easier,
your self-doubt is just an overused gimmick,
I've seen it all before.
But it's not about you, it's about me...
and the irreparrable damage that has been done,
only a fire hotter than the one before can put out the flames,
despite my mask, what burns couldn't be colder,
and your life can only be saved if our hands never hold again."



IV. ANOTHER KIND OF BLISS

"Oh this drunken bliss takes me to cloud nine...
Will I stumble and fall down among the imhumane...?
These twisted questions eternally hold my mind like iron twine...
Have we all forgotten our true quest...?
Or have we all become hopelessly blind.....?"


V. SUNSET

"A black clover falls from the heavens....
a rude nature awakens from within....
love is not all that can be found,
but deep hatred from the calmness down wind.
Truth cannot hold so many answers as the questions that are asked,
For the one question that should be asked that has only one answer...
we will surely never know."


VI. JUST A SUGGESTION

"A train of blood cuts through the soulless shroud,
The moonlight unveils its true color.
From the trees an owl approves,
From a distance the heart mourns.
On the shoulders of desperation,
is draped a gesture of peace.
The night indefinitely considered; a moon crowned in devious grins obliges.
Not all paths are righteous, but all causes ascertain truth."


VII. FINALLY

"Turning over loose soil never felt so good,
burrying the memories under a blanket of truth.
What was thought to have been real,
was not even a dream...but a melting nightmare.
There comes relief in knowing,
that what never was can never be and never has been.
The stars are alligned and the moon is black,
Today is tomorrow and yesterday is written anew."


VIII. TO INFINITY

"Like an orange sunrise after a night devoid of sincerity,
I see now that the thorns of a rose bush only add to its beauty.
The lone star that shines amidst the black sky proves its worth,
in a mind where love is burried beneath unbreakable stone.
Pale is the stone cast,
wide is the lake interrupted by ripples,
and the stone sinks only to join the innumerable others,
who have been utterly cast out by the same hand.
The darkness of the depths is but temporary,
as time will draw the tide away,
and all who have sunk will rise to the surface again."


IX. ULTIMATUM

"Gods and Devils fly past like flaming bullets set loose,
the arch of time is ever misconstrued by their will.
Their war will forever rage through the eyes of happy men,
therefore it is not higher we must reach,
but inward we must delve.
For the one thing that will forever remain is that
life is the amputation of serenity from our most subconscious desires."


X. GHOSTS

"You're touch can only be measured by the intensity of an earthquake,
exploding like a field of self-destructing roses.
Illustrated by the silhouette of your eyes,
help me to understand why they weap.
We find that in the words we speak,
we only differ in time spent apart.
Help me to understand why we meet only now,
help me to forget the desolation of the path i have trodden,
and i will help you remember what it feels like to wander with someone side by side."

XI. THE HEART

"Fear draws masterpieces,
coveting the aspirations of self-proclaimed heroes.
Fear awakens courage,
paving the way for those who dream of white shores and bloodless exchanges.
Fear is sold and stolen and blessed by those blind with fury, whether by conscious design or celestial influence.
Commodious as it may be, if God exists, if there is any truth to spiritual breath, it resides in the shadow of insolence;
the resilient form of fear.
And to deny fear is to deny self, and to deny self is to deny truth.
But is truth not just as trivial as fear?
Who, by rights then, decides which triumphs?
And likewise, who decides what saves the day?"

XII. THE KILLING FIELDS

"Walking through the fall of the coldest snow,
knowing full well the death that waits patiently beyond the veil;
fate is certain, but the darkness loathes those who stare back into its eyes without fear.
Therein lays the victory: whether by choice or by fleeting memories our souls will dissipate,
but by electing mockery and acceptance we live on for eternity, forever haunting the heartless…
long after the demonic angels have feasted upon our existence."

XIII. ROMANCE

"Whatever happened things like hope and trust and courage?
Have they dissipated into the unfathomable depths of oblivion…or merely relocated or redefined?
Surely with a long enough stretch of time change is inevitable…but is it justly so?
Is it we that have changed or is it the practical joke of those watching?
Where is the light in the darkness leading us? To what end do all our paths lead?
Is the veil really even there? By what mediation are we fixed upon where we cannot return to the source…or at the very least acknowledge there once was one?
Can’t we find the answer? Can there be life without death?
Where did all this come from…from what seed did this estranged and withered root emerge…and who cast that seed?
Did they know that day, that they’d indeed planted fate?
Did they know then of their invention?

"There couldn't be a verb, an adjective, a noun, a pronoun profound enough to literarily liberate the emotion, the feeling, the thought and power felt below my feet as I turned onto that forested bypass, leaving the city and suburbs of my post-adolescence behind. It was freedom without a flag, pestilence without a cure; both likewise and subverted. And in lighting the spliff held gingerly between my aged, wrinkled and dilapidated lips, my destiny was prolonged only for the better. If the night were thicker, I might cast myself into an ocean of doubt. If my headlights were dimmer I might exalt myself under the most rude of Kings. It seemed that the only obstacle on the start of my journey was merely the wind; backward and pressing it was, as the Autumn always presumed it to be. And I felt as though I might be a kite without a string, a hook without bait; yes, the only deceit at my fingertips was the dirt beneath my fingernails. This journey of mine, wherever it took me, would be my last." --- In This House We Lived and We Died

Just ordered a test print to make sure the formatting, cover design, etc. is all copafuckingcetic, and so far, everything's right on track. Looking for a mid to late 2013 release for this literary gem ;)

Finally, my 3rd book, In This House We Lived and We Died , will be released for sale on April 3rd, 2013!

Synopsis:
In This House, We Lived, and We Died, is a story about a man, aged and lost, in mind, body, and spirit, whose last quest takes him into the deepest abysses, across the sharpest precipices, and through the darkest abscesses of his soul so that he may collect the shattered and sunken remains of his all-but vanquished memory.

A sort of Spiritual Epic in the same way "What Dreams May Come" inspires to alter life dispositions, and in the same way "Fight Club" aspires to inspire with violent psychological psithurism, "In This House, We Lived, and We Died" aims to break all the rules of the literary journey and set a new tone for the world of imagination



Order online at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Thenaca... on April 3rd!