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Best Poems Written by Matthew Webb

Below are the all-time best Matthew Webb poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Tea Party Under the Bed

All these thoughts running around my head in a sadistic fashion 
sitting me down and force feeding misery to the shallow doll that is me.

What a tea party, what a way to spend my days under the bed with the other broken dolls

What a gathering of emptiness

Nobody wants a broken doll

Im unfixable 

Caress my madness with a jagged blade cutting it out of me with that smile on your face, the crooked mouth and face twisting as i shut my eyes to hide within myself whilst everything outside of me is decaying.

What a wonderful smile you dont have what a way to spend my time thinking about nothing

My thoughts hurt the swelling of blackouts elapses

Blackout.....blackout completely.

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2015



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Waiting For a Lonely Death

Im trying to piece the puzzle of my mind together but theres missing pieces and all the remaining ones are covered in black stained memories close to shattering like glass always living in the shadows unable to live in the light I am a puppet controlled by life being hung over a pit waiting to be dropped with thin unstable threads being humiliated by pain, prolonged distortion. The audience laugh as i fall down fall down breakdown breakdown

Mannequin puppet is me. I died and now my corpse is a puppet of amusement, a tool a mere discardable item with nothing to it. Empty caress again, nothing nothing nothing nothing. 

How much more suffering do i have to go through for someone to help me.

Today feels like it never happened.

I'll be there when your dying, smiliiiing.

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2016

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Mannequins of Society

Solid mannequins stand in the shop of society wearing clothes that they think is right to wear because of the sheep. Being put, put in poses and having photos taken of there empty faces. They're everywhere surrounding me in places, faces I can't distinguish. People are mannequins until you paint on them. But I don't like painting on society mannequins, they're all the same living the same life as everyone else. Being strung along in the illusion of society. Trends, blends, unwanted friends for a meaningless social security to fit in is what they do thus making them mannequins that stand in the shop of society wearing clothes that they think is right to wear because of the sheep. Being put, put in poses and having photos taken of there empty faces.

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2014

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Spectrum of Psychodrama

I dripped into the night liquidating and metamorphosing.
 Somehow managed to form a string of emotion tied with self deprecation, darkness            and other forms of chaotic Structure.

                     Conceived into black and bathed in cold emotion. 
A world of depression leaves me bound by persistent fear forever drowning me in despair.

         Submerged in a liquid sense of isolation that shrouds the deep Ink abyss.
                   Defined yet undefined underwater sinking me further.
                   Will I ever emerge from the liquid that sinks my body.

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2014

Details | Matthew Webb Poem

Everyone Has a Secret

Everyone has a secret.

Put on your face your going out, outside. Is it you feel you should be different. to change into something you're not. To be like everyone else you feel?

Social interaction, body language gives you away. You look so fake but no one else sees it. Are they the same?

Everyone has a secret.

Just peel that face away.

I want to see what's inside but you won't let me. 
No need to obscure yourself.
 I hide too 
from people like you.

There is too many drones.

Are you real? I don't think so.

Go with the rest then.
Blend with the rest then.
Be the same.
Don't be free then.
I'll watch your actions unfold and witness your deterioration process.
you are just another media induced society mannequin.

Human beings will die and the society mannequins will take over like machines in the matrix.


Does it all really matter anyways?

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2014



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Sanitarium

Falling through the cold air, sliding through mud down a cliff side. Skins paler than pale and I can't breath or see straight. As the air caress' the skin and the dirt stains me as I drop further down into a blood filled lake feeling the heavy water restrict my movement and pulling me down like quick sand I.

Waterfall into the asylum corridor and find my self back in the sanitarium. 

Pills don't work.

Doctor slides off the wall with a burnt smile on his face asking how you are you feeling today? I should of held a mirror in his face.

It reflected more on him than me but I created him. He doesn't care I don't think. Sand bag body falls of the ceiling, doctors fill the room nurses say nothing they look but they don't know what to say.
Imagination, desecration.

My pit my imagination my asylum.

I awaken not feeling fully conscious again. The day feels like a dream like any other day of this existence, I blackout seeing the day in stages my mood swings come back twisting my head around revealing another face. I change like I'm bi polar I feel strange again getting up in a distorted World of my perception. 

Sometimes I come back here, sometimes I leave and sometimes it scarres and scares me.

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2015

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Air Square Nightmare

Sail soil sad bad
        bottle bunker underground
                 blunderbuss driving round a toy circuit
                in a bassement of broken dreams and nightmares
        square man dancing round a plate of purpleshoes
                abstract subtract react detach

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2017

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Walk Down the Stairs of My Poem

Chicken curry worry about finances 
                 of dinners on the table consisting of 
                            bank statements eat paper water vapour 
                                   smoke out the room bloom gloom monsoon 
                                      of tears flood of blood crashing wave frequency
                                                in the crooked shack in The middle of nowhere.
                                   Stairs enhanced mechanical bannisters coiling round the 
                    metal frames of this game disdain.     
          Retain my shivers quivers kitchen livers blisters serious series of rhymes that just shoot out like bullets through a glass canvas

     
                         We're at the bottom of the stairs
              So take some wine and shortbread with you as you make your way       through the misted night of lights blue ambience playing like a cutscene of            dreams gleam let your imagination run away with you.

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2016

Details | Matthew Webb Poem

Can'T Sleep At the Empty Night Club

"I get sicker, I get sicker" skin just as soft as silky hair wet flannel towel with lipstick smudges luminous sound waves of colour could stay here in this warm water forever i never feel bad its when i get out the pain arises subsiding? Not really, having a bath in a empty night club with lights flashes splashes fake eyelashes on the floor distort eyesight of ecstasy. "I get sicker, I get sicker" sick dripped hanging towel over the mixing deck collapse over the stage. blood lust, splashes of water drip drip drop on the floor smiling laughing bubbles strobes visual display of ambience. This is what happens when you can't sleep go funny sleep deprived hallucinations stumbling shaking cold warm covered floor of splattered mud blood slugs sick pick eyelashes wishing more do not leak fall out, "I get sicker, I get sicker" i get deader as night elapses corridor floor crawling brawling with dancing mannequins masquerade of sanity song name sickness disease mold scold fold towels die with the night. Thoughts screaming at me laughing crying dying dancing dejavu decay disfigured limbs on the dance floor. Why does nobody come here? Sink submerge into the now muddy bath water of the "heavens night" lights. Pick me like a daisy lotus out of the soil toil ticking clock shocks of ink covered frocks locks on the doors are screaming like thoughts growing faces places daylight saving me sleep please please sleep in the sink? No, wont fit slit someones face off cough blood over there face pills pills addiction transfixtion transvestic fetishism obsession depression dilute delay please come stay at the empty night club Im so lonely slowly dying inside these walls of leaking paint.




"I get sicker" skindred reference to song sicker

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2016

Details | Matthew Webb Poem

Serene Beauty

The serene beauty of the beach
                           the waves of the sea flow like my emotion
               As I breath in the air you fade away near me leaving me alone 
                        I swim to the shore embracing a world of bliss 
                              but I don't know where you have gone
             I step through the beach feeling the warm sand caress my bare feet
                          Happy but sad questioning your disappearance.
                                               where did you go? 
                                                   
                          You re emerge in the sun lit forest pathway
    The trees move with the wind and a sight of beauty sends serenity through me
             as I rejoin with you we shall travel together through this utopia.


                                          .tsohg a erew ouy kniht I

Copyright © Matthew Webb | Year Posted 2015

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