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    The Heart Of A Comet
    The Heart Of A Comet
    The Heart Of A Comet
    Ebook124 pages31 minutes

    The Heart Of A Comet

    By Pages Matam

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    About this ebook

    The Heart of a Comet is a collection of poems and short stories offering the tale of Comet, who fell from the sky unto an unfamiliar plane of existence. On his quest to return home, he has many life-altering encounters with people and places that completely change his perspective of what it means to love and to live. Through this series of truths, the lines between dreams and reality so often blur, this creates a new mosaic to an ultimate revelation: the internal lesson of the true meaning of purpose. What are we here for? Why do we experience the things that we do, and why do we react to them in the ways that we do? All questions posed with seemingly infinite answers. In this conceptual miscellany, author Pages Matam touches on topics of immigrant experience to fatherhood and love in all of its beautiful but also often tragic and traumatic faces. As the tale unfolds, we become swallowed by a self reflective journey with a destination that could only be sought from one's own soul searching heart...the Heart of a Comet.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWrite Bloody Publishing
    Release dateSep 15, 2014
    ISBN9781949342161
    The Heart Of A Comet
    Author

    Pages Matam

    Pages Matam is a multidimensional creative writing and performance artist, residing in the D.C. metropolitan area, but originally from Cameroon, Africa. He is a Write Bloody author, educator, playwright, host, event organizer, Award Winning slam poet (2 time DC Grand Slam Champion, 2013 Southern Fried Champion) along with his greatest accomplishment, being a father. A proud gummy bear elitist, bowtie enthusiast, professional hugger and anime fanatic, Pages is silly, yet visceral and crafts beautifully honest poetry.

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      Book preview

      The Heart Of A Comet - Pages Matam

      YOU.

      THE APOLOGY

      OF A

      CONFUSED TORNADO

      PT. I

      EYALA (THE CONFLICTS IN LEARNING HOW TO UN-BREAK)

      I. Man vs. Himself

      …that reminds you, you are still human. That your heart is not a dandelion,so you must stop scattering yourself to pieces at the mercy of someone else’s breath.

      II. Man vs. Society

      This is for the days

      When eyala is poetry, becoming reconstructive surgery for the gaping spirit.

      When prayers go where hands can’t.

      When my black is the color of bull’s eye and my name snaps trigger.

      When I will have to hold my children like bullet wounds.

      When I will have to unlearn how to hate myself.

      When America’s favorite song will dance my flesh into illusion.

      When the beat just will not go on.

      There will be many.

      You’ll feel beaten down by the weight of your own galaxy,

      The shooting star emptying its clip into the sky on a celestial drive-by;

      But if we are going to live on the shoulders of giants,

      We will have to stop complaining of our fear of heights.

      III. Man vs. Nature

      Something about the way you can see the universe ripping itself apart in the grieving voice of a man shattering. Because he has to. Better him than the world. But the world be he. All encompassing. His heart be as tall as the sky. Spirit magnified to the unquenched depth of oceans. Soulquariums that stretch for miles into the infinite of space. But how many times must we destroy the star inside of us to give birth to someone else’s universe? You cannot supernova your way into someone else’s heart. A smile is eyala. All of your dreams buried in your last true love’s kiss dipped in a cosmos of sweat, moonlit regrets, and all but the last drop of your combustible devotion.

      IV. Man vs. God

      We are all God’s workmanship:

      Our breath be ink, our flesh be paper. But even as often

      As He writes, I swear looking

      At my life, I am the reason God no longer believes in trees.

      There is so much gravity

      Hidden inside of us. So many psalms hidden inside of us.

      Secrets we hold as we

      persevere in our journeys at trying to find love, or ourselves,

      Or joy. Or God. Whatever

      She may be. Thought I found her at the altar of your spine.

      You said you knew all too well

      of the lies I hide beneath skies when closets grew up too quickly.

      I told you I was leaving,

      but you knew I’d come back running

      with hands holding every scar

      I forgot to leave behind. My palms wish for eyala.

      V. Man vs. (Wo)Man

      She’s that kind of woman.

      Always stepping out of a dream, dripping wet in marvelous,

      Keeps shotguns tucked in the hems of her skirt,

      Hides grenades under her freshly painted nails,

      And keeps booby traps between her teeth.

      Watch how you kiss

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