Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Hobbyist Matthew HoveyMale/Australia Recent Activity
Deviant for 7 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 78 Deviations 1,632 Comments 15,648 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
Melbourne
These Cold spiked, metal mountains
With spires erect with the purpose of reach
The heaving, broody bowels below
Alternative notions of the beautiful in darkened spaces
Walk through the hail of driven bullets
Dodging left, stride on, weave right, stride on
The sudden jolts waking me from a lunchtime malaise
And then I Stop ...
Close my eyes. I Listen ...
This.  The pulse of a majestic city
Perfectly composed; chaotic, alive
Coalescence a footnote; the beat defined
I.  It's sadistic master.  It's masochistic slave
Drawn to this flame; a repeat offender
Savagery lurks in it's taunting shadows
Yet always alluring ... always ... mine.
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Literature
Zero Sum of All Things
What matters most of all 
        is nothing
This indefinable piece of 
    the null, the 
void
For it is with 
the silence
of
naught
we begin to understand
that it
is
        ok.
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Literature
Thank you Ned's Atomic Dustbin
to hearken back on the long and the lost
to beseech a time implored by what once was
to think and decidedly remember ... 
we sometimes forget the forged 
we lose ourselves to the deviation
we walk aimlessly, listless in reproach ...
this catches at our aching souls
this nags away; itching and bleeding at the scratch
this stretches us above and far beyond ...
to refresh anew and be reborn
we the lost children of our times
this; our need to fly again ...
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Literature
a tax plan
salvage the folds of us
in tribute to what has become
for we the crescendo'd beings
belay a frightened flight
one step to the left
forward and unto a naked plight
decidedly given for now
for we who are; alive with
granduer
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Literature
I'm here ...
Walk along gnarled paths
Searching for lighted ways
Hurt and broken thoughts
Block your darkened gaze
Alone and afraid
No path seems right
Sharp twigs rip and shred
To make for a worsened plight
Whispers for help
Turn into cries for release
No one else here
Alone you do weep
But
There is someone here
And always has been
A hand for you to hold
A heart for you to see
Look up dear child
And see in my soul
That daddy is here with you
And on me you can call
For your heart is my heart
Your blood runs in me
To love you is to live
To live is to see you free
I know your darkened gaze
For I have been there before
From one who searched like you
I know of your inner war
So take a deep breath
And let go of your doubt
Let’s find a way together
Let’s find our way out
I will be with you
All of the way
From the dark we will walk
Into the brightness of day
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 1 0
Literature
A Social Cometary Tail
Listen to outer vices
                Based on blooded light
Preaching inner qualms
                Culture crumble with a dash of moral essence
Salves for the solds of the fair withered friends
               
Stand upon the precipice and watch
                For one time only; feel good for a day
Vilified and reproached eggs with a side of blaming
                Buy in bulk and save!
More and more and more available to some moron tomorrow*
                (*Tomorrow never comes)
I need justifiable justice judicially adjusted
  
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Purple Flower on Blue Wood by MattHovey Purple Flower on Blue Wood :iconmatthovey:MattHovey 4 0
Literature
The Ascot Food Store
chatter.
white noise of the morning rush.
laughter piercing through the hiss and bubble.
clattering clanks of glass with steel with porcelain.
There is a basin in the front
    tiny. well formed.
no real function to speak of
seemingly alone, unused, unloved.
This basin in the front
    white. not cream, nor off white.  white.
faucet turned inward towards the sliver of wall.
embarrassed perhaps.
items of purpose sit close by
differences stark, cold and real.
their haughty come use me pose
To the basin in the front.
to the left
a basin in use.  with taps.  does it know?
does it wish for this single minded purpose?
like its kin to the left?
The basin in the front
surrounded by the masses
    all waiting, wanting
nothing it can provide.
there is a sticker on the back, inside.
what would it say?
a note of why it is shunned or 
a letter of yearning to be used.  abused.
The basin in the front.
    no use, no purpose
all form, no
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 1 0
Literature
In Front
glass
water, clear.  Cold.
                where's my coffee?
        science looking jug
        you know the type
        500ML of bulbous bum with phallic neck
saucer and the spoon
not running away together
    interesting
     no glass
                i think that was for my coffee
                need another
                threepeat
ok
lab theme
    sugar in a jar
    the raw, toasted color kind
        spoon tipping, eyeing an escape
    vials of salt n pepper 
        (Salt and Pepa's here, and we're in effect)
        crossed within a small beaker 
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Mature content
Maelstrom :iconmatthovey:MattHovey 0 0
Spring's Return by MattHovey Spring's Return :iconmatthovey:MattHovey 144 26 preen by MattHovey preen :iconmatthovey:MattHovey 14 6
Literature
Time elusive
There was a time ...
You are no longer there
Gone from memories cherished
A story's pages ripped and shredded
Chosen is a path ...
One we cannot see
A defiant walk strides within
Coerced anger the new friend
Now is what it is ...
The steady rock crumbled
Heavy shoulders slumped
Weary head finally bowed
The candlelight dies tonight ...
The dark will scare
Shadows will advance
Wind will howl at nothing left
Chosen is your path
Now is what it is
The candlelight dies tonight
There was a time ...
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 6 11
Literature
The perfect morning
coffee
freshly brewed
sheets
slightly crumpled
hair
fully mussed
papers
wantonly strewn
music
softly aired
toast
messily crumby
desires
quickly ignited
rain
newly falling
cuddles
sleepily tangled
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 9 23
Literature
fall by the wayside
How many worlds spin on by?
With our atom sized lives dancing in the light and fumbling in the dark?
The clumsy elegance of the conditional beast in emotional guise.
Is it all defined by the cacophony that swirls in the dim recesses of each destined thought?
Where confusion as to what is real, what is pure, pulls us under?
Allowing no chance for a moment we can truly call our contented own.
Maybe the dreams of what should be will slide right on by.
Replaced by hazy jumbled mosaics that confuse and deride.
Yet we dance and fumble still.
Guess we are yearning for the fog to lift ... the jigsaw piece to fall into place.
So we can dance again to the music tattooed deep in our souls.
Round and round we go ... where we might stop? Only our desires will know ...
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 3 7
Literature
For Grandma
My grandmother was a poet.  
She loved to write of family and friends and
of little observations and times that should be remembered;
Rolled up in the eloquence of the gift of verse.
It is like hearing her again after so many years.  
The words ...
I can still hear the pride in her voice ...  
I can still see her bright, inquisitive eyes ...
All I can do is smile a big smile and cry a big cry.
For the visions of another time and place now flicker past;
A ramshackle house built on decades of loving memories.
It was my home, as it was my mum's, as it was my grandmother's.
Innocence is a child running around their grandparent's house.
Being chased by big smiles and creaky legs.
Fed lollies by the bucket load.
Caught in between legs and the key thrown away.
Found one that was written for me when I was a young boy ...
I never knew she had ...
I miss her ...
My kingdom for a tissue.
:iconMattHovey:MattHovey
:iconmatthovey:MattHovey 2 11

Favourites

Literature
Tatoos
Tatoos
I slipped her out of those boat shoes
Hands to washing and working, lips grazin' a leg bruise
All with the alacrity of past lusts
Again she loosens the back ties; a history no longer trussed
Yet written of in her tatoos
:iconBackupPanic:BackupPanic
:iconbackuppanic:BackupPanic 7 5
Mature content
Going Home :icontheflawedone:TheFlawedOne 2 3
Literature
the beauty
i don't know what to say here,
i don't know why i try
i only know that when i see you
a part of me dies.
your skin is so pure
white as fresh laid snow
lush, full hair flowing
I wish I was your beau
i could get lost in your
clear blue eyes
forever and a day
so big and round in size
Your legs so long
supple and taunt
peeking from your skirt
legs of a debutante
your crooked tooth
peeling cracked lips
and all that pie
goes straight to your hips.
still, i could love you
love is blind after all
i have felt a stir
give me your number so i can call
but!
you smell, oh do you smell
my nose hairs coil
and my toes do curl
did something in you spoil?
the smell is half way rotten eggs
and putrid old warm milk
how i long to hold
and wrap you up in silk
but the stench is far too much
it's you i'll never touch.
:iconTheFlawedOne:TheFlawedOne
:icontheflawedone:TheFlawedOne 6 1
After Midnight by wytherwing
Mature content
After Midnight :iconwytherwing:wytherwing 2,697 905
Peaceful Evergreen by DarkSena Peaceful Evergreen :icondarksena:DarkSena 587 77 . Neva . by KalmaKamala . Neva . :iconkalmakamala:KalmaKamala 734 103 False Awakening by DamaiMikaz False Awakening :icondamaimikaz:DamaiMikaz 7,422 653 #02 Orange [ Rena ] by DamaiMikaz #02 Orange [ Rena ] :icondamaimikaz:DamaiMikaz 1,752 124 I'll be here by noukka I'll be here :iconnoukka:noukka 146 13
Literature
Soul Autopsy....
Soul Autopsy....
With mind mirrored poorly
Cracked contemplation overwhelms me
In my solitary introspection
I gaze absent-mindedly
At each moment etched
And every thought bizarre
With skilled precision I glean
The most intricate, intimate
And nightmarish tangled pathways
That whilst once all pervading
And encapsulating
Now stream willowing around
Stark beacons of my soulless shell
With the tiller now lain drifting
I watch now distant
Helpless to avoid, to divert
The cascade of the righteous
Meanwhile the baying grows
And draws me yet deeper still
In its tortured and unending chorus
Mockingly taunting my fractured resolves
Each snippet of self-awareness
Finally bounces insanely inside
As recognition of the mysterious
and denial of that long since damned
Flow abundantly my fears
And flow so gently my tears
Seduction secretly grows
From without an unseen gaze
A simple gesture of withered longing
For that which presents
To that now re-birthed
Scream mutely with resignation
Thus casting far
:iconWaeffe:Waeffe
:iconwaeffe:Waeffe 2 1
Literature
Alternative
(reach)
why
(grab)
did
(place)
you
(carve)
do
(carve)
this?
(carve, carve)
you stupid man
(carve, carve, carve)
don't trust me
(carve, carve)
please
(carve)
don't.
:iconAborro:Aborro
:iconaborro:Aborro 1 0
Literature
Untitled
She makes me sick
Walking like a queen
on high.
She trips on lies
Such as:
I love you
I need you
She'll taste your
Sickness, happiness
Vile hate and
Your pure love.
If she hadn't survived
The moral abortion
She wouldn't be so stuck
On my misgivings.
She wouldn't be able to cry
Big screaming tears
Followed my rainbows
In the dark.
She used to chase him
But now, she spits him out
She no longer wants him
But she'll never set him free.
:iconTheFlawedOne:TheFlawedOne
:icontheflawedone:TheFlawedOne 2 1
Literature
lull
it’s sad to be a man 
                                        said the hyacinths
I planted           with the dust of your body
while I ran my white fingers on the weeds
 that lay down like tangles of hair
and touched us on
                              pincushion
tickseed
                                               azalea
the stars low-hanging like rainy laburnum
while the grass 
                                   knits into my curls
men are not green
or even happy
     and must love
as well as be
<i>
:iconNLY:NLY
:iconnly:NLY 6 4
Literature
...
    we are all monsters
   hiding            the beds of our skin
              under 
:iconAsterGirl:AsterGirl
:iconastergirl:AsterGirl 13 3
Literature
Desire
There's a desire deep within me:
To tease. To twist.
To feel the tender tip
Trace silky skin.
To paint the body with blood.
To engrave myself onto their image.
So simple.
Yet so permanent.
I will remain constant.
My instrument mirrors my facade;
Reveals the "ugly truth".
It nips away at reality.
Slicing.
Reflection.
Soft.
Correction.
Fluid.
Perfection.
A body of art;
Abstract.
Given purpose as purpose
Slowly,
But ultimately,
Concludes.
:iconCaylee-Slansen:Caylee-Slansen
:iconcaylee-slansen:Caylee-Slansen 29 11

Activity


deviantID

MattHovey's Profile Picture
MattHovey
Matthew Hovey
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Australia
Somewhere in the middle of everything.

Maelstrom? Tornado?

Nah more likely to be in the middle of a dream about a dream than anything else.

Current Residence: Ascot Vale
deviantWEAR sizing preference: Large
Favourite genre of music: Eclectic
Operating System: Windows 10
MP3 player of choice: iPhone
Personal Quote: Meh
Interests
It's been a while.

I've been here, there and everywhere.  Blogged, flickr'd, photog business ... yet something was missing.

I found it again today.  Two places at once.  

My vulnerability.  

The written word opens up my soul and allows an oft hidden place to grow and evolve.  I'm ashamed to say that I have left it locked and shunned for a long time.  I let life get to me and forgot how to open up, bare all, and accept who I am.  That changed recently.  

The shackles were broken, but the way forward was still darkened with doubt.  And then ... a spark shimmered in the darkness along the way ... clarity.  I knew.  It's funny how something so innocuous as a new focus can rattle the calcified thoughts clean away and refresh with a blazing ferocity.  It has taken me aback somewhat.  I have had to think long and hard about who I am and what I like ... as I wander through the myriad of scares that my vulnerability brings to the fore.  To open up knowing this could happen is scariest of all, but if I don't ...

I need to know.  I need to desire and covet that which naturally feels right.  I need ... well ... that's why I'm back. To write.

So I guess I'm open for business again.   
  • Listening to: CHVRCHES
  • Reading: my mind
  • Watching: The screen as I type

Journal History

Critiques

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconpoetrymann:
Poetrymann Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2015  Professional Writer
Thanks for faving my work - I appreciate it.
Reply
:icontheflawedone:
TheFlawedOne Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fav!  And putting my other poemin your collection.
Reply
:iconmatthovey:
MattHovey Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Was a good poem :)
Reply
:iconwytherwing:
wytherwing Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2015
thank you for there :+fav: on After Midnight :beer:
Reply
:iconmatthovey:
MattHovey Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
A pleasure :)
Reply
:icondamaimikaz:
DamaiMikaz Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks a lot for adding my work to your collection.
Reply
:iconmatthovey:
MattHovey Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
pleasure - you have some serious talent there :)
Reply
:icontheflawedone:
TheFlawedOne Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch.  Your way of words is very vivid.
Reply
:iconmatthovey:
MattHovey Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the watch too!  I really like the way you compose yours also - looking forward to seeing more :)
Reply
:iconyowyo:
YOWYO Featured By Owner Dec 25, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
Mery Xmas! :D

:peace:
Reply
Add a Comment: