Archive for April, 2012

She often looked away to another place, stretching her wings with a faraway look on her ivory face. Somewhere a faint voice called to her from a distant place that was drawing her nearer. I feared I’d awake one morning to find she was gone, so I cherished the moments we had left to share.
After she really had gone, I hoped I could accept and learn to understand.
Then the beckoning voice grew stronger and clearer. Soon would be the time she’d fly from here, for there was a tug at her heart she had to be nearer.
I remember the day, sunny and fair. The last there was for us there was to be…a warm day in January…
I held her close to let her know I loved her still. We sighed one last time and shared a glance in each other’s eyes. Then she whispered a message for me to share…the last three spoken truly were, “I love you…”
Then she raised her heart toward the clear blue sky. There was a tear in my eyes for I knew it was time we said, for now…Goodbye.
It was the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do—to raise my arms toward skies so blue, and feel that heart beating in my clutching hands. Maybe she felt me tremble at that moment when I realized I was to be left with only memories of the dearest soul I’ve ever known.
Then all the magic between us rushed through her fingers and mine…those fingers I wished I might always hold.
All in one instant, the last her hand was touching mine; there became fingers and soft feathers intertwined. I hesitated, and then loosened my grip—and my dove was but a flutter, an angel in flight…high above me soaring from sight. We both felt a tug at our heart strings as she left me there earthbound and faded from sight.
Some days I’m reminded of that fateful moment so long ago. And I want my soaring friend to know; I’ll be here as she left me; with a full heart, yet empty handed…with open arms.

I love you Momma, Matthew Lyle

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About me…

I am the kind of man who looks into your eyes, hears the melody of your voice, sees the curve of your back…and immediately I feel poetry.

If I ask how you are doing, I want to know, really.

I cry for my fellow man, for what he knows, what he doesn’t know. And for what he will learn. I cry for the winners, for the fleeing moment. For the forgotten there in plain sight.

I feel for the hungry, the lonely, and the over confident…for they too will soon be hungry for company, and loneliness will follow.

I pray for my enemies, for their lack of compassion, for the misery that consumes them. I pray for those I have hurt…for the souls who have hurt me. If karma does follow, I am being devastated already, and I feel the pain that will soon envelope them. I pray for compassion to replace their all consuming passion.

I care. I see the world through different eyes perhaps, and am so grateful for my perspective, and the words that soon follow. I am jaded some, yet still genuine.

If you want to know the truth, come to me…I will give it to you, and I will try to make it a kind truth.

Happy holidays, but just so you know…there are 10 other months that people need to be cared about too…and every day between every event, celebration, and holiday…You take care of the ones in red on the calendar…I will be there for all the days in between…With love in my heart…Matty

PS…I miss you Mom


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I’ve combined my thoughts from yesterday together for you on this Veteran’s day, 2010

You may have noticed I have been paying tribute and giving thanks to Veterans and current members of the military all day. You can go to my profile and see them all there.

Don’t forget to pray, and say thanks every chance you get folks…

If you choose to learn a language, or join a friend at their church next weekend, remember this: That you choose to learn German, Japanese, Italian, Russian or any other tongue. If you want to worship Buddha, the Koran, the Bible, Jesus, Jehovah, Satan, or nothing at all…remember, the only reason you have such choices, is because of young volunteers (and former draftees) in the military defending those rights.

Last Christmas, I traveled to the house of a friend and her son Austin. This spring when he graduated high school, Austin left for Marine Boot Camp. He is currently training in Twenty Nine Palms, California. I never looked on this young guy as a potential hero when he was 10 years old and playing paintball. But in light of becoming a Marine in the midst of two current wars, I can only look on in awe and say thanks. Thank you Austin.

Because I served only vicariously, (as a friend and writer many who did serve have shared with me their experiences)…When I lay down at night, I will recall their generosity, but I will share no common dreams with them. My four older brothers all served in the army while I was in high school and told me they had, so I didn’t have to.  Today, and all days I have a lot of veterans and active members to thank.

I am good friends with an elderly Chaplain who was a tail gunner on a B24 bomber for 30 bombing missions over Germany in WWII. I am also friends with an 80 something year old veteran of WWII who was in the German army as a 15 year old. He believed in the cause, until he found out it was unjust and un-winnable. His friendship is as true as the other. Good men in a bad moment.

I love them both. Both taught me about forgiveness. Both taught me about the horrors of war. Both taught me to not forget. But mostly, they both helped me to heal the angers and fears I was brought up with…They need to meet, and one day shall…where there are no judgments to endure…and they will embrace, and find other; better things to talk about. That is what they taught me…

If you have a memory that haunts you from time to time, a moment that wakes you in a cold sweat from a life event…stop and think about our veterans and current members of our military that have years of such horror to live with and carry around for the rest of their existence. And know too they can only truly relate to those others who went through it with them, and that many of them were lost in the midst of it all.

When you’re on your boat, burning all that gas and just soakin up the suds and sun, remember there are and have been military folks at sea for months on end, being tossed by relentless wave and wind. They have superiority of the ocean and air, but at a huge risk to life and craft. Their days are nearly without end, smiles from loved ones are but memories…All so you can spend carefree days in the sun…

If there is warm sand between your toes, and you’re enjoying it…keep in mind there is a member of our military, man or woman, in the heat of a desert far from home with combat boots in hot sand, with hot rounds coming and going all around ’em. They are not having fun, nor are they aware of your bliss…but still they continue to do what they do, so yours is safe and without fear…

Matthew Landsman…Your humble scribe… Thursday, 11 November 2010armyboots

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I’m gonna step out neath those dreary grey skies. Look up to the heavens even if rain gets in my eyes. I’ll let the rain mix with my heartfelt tears. I’m gonna ask for a way to comprehend, pray for a break, some serenity. I’m going to beg for this endless night to come to a peaceful end.

There’ve been hails of bullets, preceded by packs of lies. Even some of the folks that are supposed to be reporting “The News” are twisting the truth, when they aren’t fabricating out and out lies.

I’m not a baby or even naïve, I just can’t quite figure out what I should toss aside, or embrace and believe. I’m even confused should I pray to God, or be politically correct and instead put out “positive energies”?

The devil’s on the loose in some weak minded soul’s trigger fingers, stealing the traces of serenity and decent sleep that are left to me. We gotta look to each other for a place to lean, for warmth and support while our souls are left reeling and reaching. I’ll reach for you…and you for me.

I can’t help but think of the moments after 9-11 began to unfold, when I knew no strangers and welcomed anyone seeking a shoulder to cry into…any pleading hand to hold.

Friends, I am tired. I’m afraid and angry, and I too feel your pain. But my faith won’t fail…it might wobble and bend under the strain…I am not made of sugar and won’t melt in the rain…

I’m headed for a mountain top, so my voice is closer to the heavens and will be heard when I cry. I hope to see you there next to me in a show of unity and collective strength. This is no time to hide from the wind, to turn away from your fellow man…I have enough faith to sustain a few of you, but lend me some of yours whenever you can.

Remember, the minutes of sunlight are getting longer day by day, and if we let God see us coming together in the hours between dawn and dusk, perhaps he’ll protect us during the darkness and approaching light. Come together folks…Our collective hope, faith, and love will prevail…

Matthew Landsman 01/08/2011


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There are only memories, where a garden used to grow. Some days I think she’d like to plant a flower here, a snow pea there. Mostly she just rests and remembers…but her memory isn’t always clear.
The rows she sowed still remember her, the touch of her fingers, and the feel of her hands. But the recollections of springs of the past are fading fast.
You will do well to find the roses you hung to dry long ago. The connecting again with some memories will one day be all that’s left to know.
And though the fields have gone to weeds, long ago forgotten the touch of tilling, the water, and the seeds…There is the scent of green, of life of love. It lives on in you…you are the flowers now…grow proud and tall…
by Matthew Landsman

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Come Midnight…

Come midnight…the chill will descend from the North and the West, bringing frost to the pane and spent leaves beyond my porch.  Come midnight, there will be a breeze come visit to usher away the tired memories…to waltz off with the fickle lady who left me to weep with the tattered resolutions I tried to honor and romance starting at another midnight of a tired year ago. The lady called Eve, who visits but once a year, who urges me to raise a glass, to toss away the last three hundred sixty four, and sweep them aside out a seldom used door.

I will do so with a small reservation, a tug at my heart…and a quiet knowing smile…cause she was a sweet year, a collection of smiles and sighs…of both kinds. She gave me new reasons to laugh and to cry, friends to embrace…some to bid adieu for the time being, one to eulogize. I added to my collection of dried blossoms, of over-read notes, of songs to remind me of all of those things…and prayers to help me forget.

Come midnight I will have marked twenty four new year’s passing without champagne…perhaps a nod, a hug and a private tear. Come midnight there will have been fifty two, whether I marked them or not…and the knowing too that in two weeks passing, ten years since we said goodbye to Mom.

Come midnight, nothing will change, and at the same time; nothing will be quite the same. I am grateful; I am weary, wiser, and a little worldlier than this time a year ago.

Come midnight, I will remember I forgot to buy a new calendar when the leaves were turning, but none the less a new, but slightly older lady will accompany my plans and signatures. I don’t know whether I’ll make her any promises, but I plan to spend times with her clear eyed and sober, full of good intention and with respect for the times she’s given and will give to me…Come midnight…Please come, midnight…and accompany me.

Happy New Year friends. And hey, God…come midnight and come morning, my friends who fight the good fight as dawn approaches, still need you at their side. Come on midnight…I’m waiting here on you…

Matthew  12/312011


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frosty panes

And should this day extends its hand, I will take it into mine…and hope it leads me where I hadn’t planned…I will forget the winds and cold and headlines…and escape to a memory, a moment I’d misplaced…and the warmth of a friend…Cling to the reassuring sanctuary in the breeze of a familiar song…and forget how winter nights can be so long.
And should a stranger’s smile make my heart skip a beat, and remind me that happy hours are often made up of memorable seconds here and there…I will be grateful and glad to have collected enough of them to make for a happy day…Remember too that this spring’s roses are huddled in slumber neath the snow and spent leaves of fall…
I’m gonna run off with the offerings of this day, and hope you’ll do the same…Matthew

porch snow
Matthew Landsman 01/08/2011

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