Matter DeMaterial
By
Steve Blacksmith
©Steven Blacksmith
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for picking up this book. I sincerely hope that you like it. This piece was written as part of a larger project where I attempted to write 1,000,000 words in one year. The aim of the project is still a bit unclear, but I’m certain that it will eventually have something to say about the ephemeral nature of our modern literature. So much is being created that it may very well be that “classic” works of literature are no longer being cemented into the public consciousness, even though they are absolutely still being written.
With the increasingly widespread implementation of AI in order to generate new works of art with little effort on the part of the self-described “AI Artists”, it may soon be clear whether or not us authors are a dying breed. What I have given you is my blood, sweat, tears, and soul on a whole hell of a lot of pages. Everything you will read in this project has come straight from my mind with absolutely no AI assistance.
In order for this project to work, I need your help to let me know if you found and read this book. Please visit www.steveblacksmith.com and leave a little note. Once you are done with this book, please take it back to a Little Free Library or wherever else you picked it up, so that someone else may read it.
Thank you and enjoy!
Poem Page Guide
6. Rita Hayworth
7. Naturist
8. Night Pancakes
9. Parasol
10. Travel Agents
11. Art
12. Tight Five
13. Stigmatatism
14. Digital Graveyard
15. Light Show
16. Dead Beat Dad
17. Spirits
18. Banana Peel
19. Impulse Control
20. Time to Fly
21. Upside Down
22. Riddle Me This
23. Old Tech Rhythm
24. Tied Up
25-26. Ghostly Disappointment
27. Reboot
28. MT
29. “Winning” Hand
30. Full Quartz Press
31. Sense of Impending Doom
32. Rock Polisher
33. Empty Notes
34. Echo the Narcissus
35. Uncivil Forfeiture
36. Simon Says
37. Planted
38. Robots in Disguise
39. This Poem was Written by AI (Not Really)
40. Death by Robots and Hubris
41. Chats
43. Love Me Back or be Tortured Forever
44. Time is an Illusion
45. Return
46. Fiend/Friend
47. “Free” Show
48. Nothing but Tine
50. Pumpkins
52. Punnicus Rex
53. Man-del-a/An-gel-a
54. Ghost Light
55. Twisted Knot
56. Does Anything Mean Anything?
57. Copper Mine
58. Eon Flux
59. Permanent Residence
60. Ceasefire
61. Flight
62. Give the Oppressor the Pepsi
63. Killed a Man
64. Wrathful
65. Posthumous
66. Dueling Keyboards
67. Invisible Ink
68. After Hours
69. Museo
70. I Fell Asleep and Dropped a Bad Poem on My Face
71. Shut Up
72. The Big Score
73-74. Universal Remote
75. Junk Fees
76. Red, Gold and Green
77. X Marks the Spot
78. This Machine Kills Fascists
79. Measure
80. Sidewalk Chalk
81. Wordsmith
82. Sleep Soul Cycle
83. Rally Cry for a Repeat Lapse
84. Locusts
85. Our Specialty
86. Above
87. Duotheism
88. Portends
89. Death Tax
90. Dust
91. Artificial
92. Pillar of Garbage
93. Olive You Too
94. Fussy
95. Contact
96. Still Not in Afib
97. Stray
98. Accountability
99. Crash
100. Instructions
101. Ain’t Missin’ You
102. Dressed to Kill
103. Catch
104. I Hope You Sleep Alright
105. Romance
106. Body Parade
107. Lethality
108. Hold Please
109. Branding
110. Surplus
111. Atwitter
112. Pick a Lane, Buddy
114. Din Din
115. Spelling
116. Ouch
117. In This Scenario I’d be Canadian
118. D’accord
119. This Again
120. Starscape
121. Home Light
122. Big Hand, Little Hand
123. Neon Blue
124. Botanical Garden
125. My Father Wrote Poetry
Rita Hayworth
I ripped your poster off the wall
Some obscure band from the 90’s
There wasn’t even an attempt at escape
Drywall strong as ever
You waited years in that cell
Four walls and a window
Bars barricade to keep you in
Or keep your others out
And now I’m here
To clean your room and bathe your body
Dried out and wrapped in sackcloth
Per your divine rite
Only later do I realize
As you matter dematerial
That the window and the bars
Were painted on
Naturist
The writer shows their words
As boldly as they do their body
Not in a state of exploitation
But in a state of undress
Night Pancakes
I made pancakes at night
The world didn’t start to shake
The ground did not split open
Hellish glows of mantle did not shine through
I made pancakes at night
Cats and dogs still fought
The dead did not rise from their graves
The moon stayed as sheepishly away as ever
I made pancakes at night
And I still performed poorly
Bad habits reared their ugly heads
Personal demons sat atop my shoulder
I made pancakes at night
The mess was the same regardless the time
But did I go to sleep satiated?
You’re goddamn right I did
Parasol
I felt like a parasol today
Caught up in a sudden wind
Yanked out of my owner’s grasp
Feeling so free and endless
As I soar through the sky
And impale a tourist on a beach
Travel Agents
A Catholic man did ask me
“How can we make God cry?”
“Play your organ in the church!”
Clever devil, so was I
A Christian man did ask me
“What’s to keep us from the gates?”
“We can wear our polyester!”
Deuteronomic reprobates
A Mormon man did ask me
“How do you keep yourself pure?”
“Heavy drinking and a ciggy!”
No point in playing demure
An Atheist did ask me
“Who the hell were those three guys?”
“Just some fellas with their hands out
Selling trips to paradise!”
Art
I give away my art for free
Quite a lot of the time
It’s not that I don’t like money
I really do
I just think that a lot of the art I make
Doesn’t belong to me
It’s entertainment for the masses
For me and for you
That’s why when I stash these books
It won’t indent my heart
As if you stole a piece of it
Swallow with not much chew
I bet someday it circles back
And I can make some bucks
To spend on making other art
Keep doing what I do
Tight Five
Have you stood upon the stage?
Grasped the mic and held it true?
Longing for the gilded cage
That success can provide you
Make them laugh all ‘round the king
Every soul inside possessed
Hit the notes to watch them sing
Clutching deeply at their chest
Hark, they hear the siren call
Dragging deeper into sea
Bodies drown in laughter sprawl
Echo forth a squealing plea
But there’s no stopping the beast
Feeding well on every kill
Til the light signals the feast
Ends on nary tabled bill
Stigmatatism
Bone splinters from inside
Explodes on the outs
To bring back your faith
In radical, last resort
Ten years was the turn
Twenty before in pew
Kneeling alongside paper
That meant little else
The vision is the first
Like Constantine before
The march into battle
Still perilously close
Miraculous wounds
Appear in your head
Hiding from the eyes
Of those that pray for you
Digital Graveyard
I tagged you in a post
Though your page displays the end
Last logged on in ‘23
Far too late to make amends
Tableau turned resuscitate
Full of life a vision blend
Only comments say goodbye
Doom to scroll and likes to send
Light Show
All life on Earth
Emits a faint glow
From death after birth
From high point to low
In times in-between
End times and their start
When nothing can mean
And horse before cart
All life on Earth
Emits a faint glow
From meaningless worth
Til rest down below
Dead Beat Dad
My dad wrote books of poetry
He died last year
I never did buy his works
‘Cause, Jesus, $10 bucks a Pop?
Spirits
There is a wail in my head
Feigned horror, like Halloween
Unimpressed with your costume
But supportive for efforts unknown
It was the right thing to do
Stumble through a maze
Of haunted corn stalks
Tall enough to conceal all
I remember being small
And yet, sure footed
Hang me on the post
To proselytize to crows
There is a wail in my head
Feigned horror, like Halloween
Unimpressed with your costume
But enamored with mine
Banana Peel
I took the long way down
Seventeen flights of stairs
To work up enough sweat
To feel respectable
You see, it should hurt
To breathe as I walk
How else can I hope
To feel alive
I keep a scar on me
Embedded inside
Just enough skin
To feel seen
It’s a “talking point”
The stunts I perform
To get that one person
To feel entertained
Impulse Control
He acted on impulse
Even though it was wrong
Quick jolt
Of the wheel
Loose change
It’s a steal
One pill
Not to feel
Back draft
So unreal
Boat sank
Fail to cross
Kick back
You’re the boss
King’s dead
No big loss
No bones
Left to toss
So light
Time to fly
Say true
Your goodbye
Full death
Sold the lie
No room
In the sky
Upside Down
I put a sock on upside down
And went on and started my day
It was hours for me, about the town
‘fore oddness had started to weigh
The stitches dug in under my toes
Where darkness had struggled to see
And added to my ankle’s woes
The heel box had pressed into me
My shoes did not sound the alarm
When long ago entered my foot
They let my error do me harm
Accepting whatever was put
And when I got home, I sat on bed
Afraid of what I would take stock
I nearly went and hit my head
Faint from all the blood in my sock
Riddle Me This
There is a troll under that bridge
Said the man
With one eye
Invariably at his back
You gotta know the riddle, son
Quoth the birds
In the air
Circling for their meal
One shot is all that it gives
Not a chance
To afford
Temporal lifelines
To cut down falsities on path
Poll the crowd
Phone a friend
Anything but the work
Old Tech Rhythm
We snap to a tune and cautiously attune our tone to be tuned into open room with a dance and a boom from great big bassoon in an old west saloon under cover of moon with the Sun coming soon in the middle of June but the tune’s like a loon growing old and rough-hewn lest that time will impugn and the end will come soon without getting their boon and their soul will be chewn and spit out like a Zune in a landfill abloom
Tied Up
I don’t like to be tied up
On pipes
Or bedframes
And backseats
Of cop cars
I do like to be tied up
In work
Or play
And phone calls
With con men
I’m strange
Don’t kink-shame
Ghostly Disappointment
The ghost was confused
For when he perused
The text on your screen
He wasn’t amused
Since when had it been
That English was seen
As could be abused
Drowned in kerosene
He read the sad text
For someone named “Lex”
“CU L8ER LVR”
That surely meant sex
If he wasn’t dead
He surely have head
Straight down to the grave
To rest in his bed
When he was alive
He really did strive
To be the best teacher
High school English V
But now all these kids
With phones, text and vids
They only get scared
With their tech on the fritz
So, when you’re alone
And glued to your phone
Just think of the ghosts
That long to be known
If you do not budge
By their ghostly touch
Enrapt in your apps
Don’t huff when they judge!
Reboot
I would do a parent trap
Though the plot be harried
Everyone’d call it a flap
Since my dad was buried
MT
If Marisa Tomei
Wrote a super long book
It’d be a Tomei tome
And, I’d give it a look
“Winning” Hand
I had a good hand in Vegas
Four aces, eager to call
The dealer asked to see my paws
My smile ran from ear to ear
I never did have a poker face
The concept eludes my grasp
And here I stand perfectly poised
At the edge of infinity
I thought of everything
Bought and paid for
A winning hand to better life
Taking my worry away
Chips crushed along the velvet
I called forth, “all in”
Blank stares from all around - “Damn!”
This is a Baccarat table
Full Quartz Press
I cracked me open
Just a few days back
A minute
A mile
A window
A mouth
And inside my head
Lay a crystalline mess
A tower
A boulder
A structure
A wall
I charge by the day
Eight dollars a turn
A deal
A label
A temple
A space
Into sacred spaces
One more for the perk
A weekly
A monthly
A yearly
A Life
Sense of Impending Doom
A crash in my heart drags me down
Such a senseless sense and yet so real
Not a minute ago, there was so much life
An immediate turn down a dark alley
Why weren’t you looking where you were going?
A drop to the knees in a momentous clash
Will it be pain or pressure or both?
The event hasn’t happened - it simply portends
With calamitous tsunamic wave
Why weren’t you heading for higher ground?
The transformation will cost everything
And yet, nothing can be done to stop
It’s a process that hits when is so least expected
The waters rise and drown all it can touch
Why weren’t you letting the current take you?
It shakes and it shatters and is gone with a smile
Damage done with uncertain agenda
Maybe it lives by the fear it provokes?
Feed the oroborus into arrhythmia
Why weren’t you forging ahead?
Rock Polisher
I put my heart into a rock polisher
Just to see what would shine
It was either that or a de-molisher
Seemed like the thing at the time
Empty Notes
There are empty notes on my phone
For all that a full life could bring
There are empty notes on my phone
And I’d like to fill everything
With foods to try
And things to learn
And objects to buy
And prizes to earn
Of places to go
And coffees to drink
And people to know
And subjects to think
There are empty notes on my phone
For all that a full life could bring
There are empty notes on my phone
Not that I have done anything
Echo the Narcissus
It wasn’t until I became
The most important person
In the world
It wasn’t until I became
A man of largely notable
Stature
It wasn’t until I became
The savior of all
Humankind
It wasn’t until only then
I saw suffering
I left behind
Uncivil Forfeiture
A policeman took my cigarettes
Called it a “service” fee
And put his hand into me vest
Be still and do not flee
A hand then came onto my breast
Collapsing both my lung
A swift flick pulled the letter best
Be still or you’ll be hung
A shuffle of the cash did count
Could crime now be deduced?
A reason for the large amount?
Be still or be reduced
An explanation to reject
“Collected for my rent”
And kept, he did, for he’d “inspect”
Be still or jail be sent
Simon Says
Twitch and you’re dead
Speak up and you’re dead
Hands up on your head
Wrong move and you’re dead
Don’t follow, you’re dead
Hard swallow, you’re dead
Hands up on your head
They’ll fill you with lead
Planted
We cover the ground with vibrant soil
A clever knowledge of storied past
And something deeper, in our gut
That speaks to spirits, ages old
To grow and gather in our earth
Fervent stew; we ruminate
Our routed roots do endure
To supplant ordered foundation
Robots in Disguise
A robot took my job
I used to manufacture Them
And now I beg for change
From vending machines
THANK YOU FOR CHECKING OUT THE FIRST ¼ OF THE BOOK. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO READ THE REST, PLEASE EITHER FIND THE BOOK OUT IN THE WILD OR GET YOUR EBOOK COPY SOON!
Hello Dear Reader!
Thank you so much for your interest in my poetry. This page contains the first half of the Matter DeMaterial book. If you would like to read the entire thing, you can find copies of this book scattered in Little Free Libraries throughout the United States. This one started in Albuquerque and Portland, Oregon, though I’m sure it’ll be in more locations soon. I will also have copies available to purchase if you would like one for yourself. Stay tuned for more information on when you can order those. For now, please enjoy the first half-ish of the book!