It came out of nowhere
passed right through me
chilling me
to the bone
reminding me
of the time
I was slapped in the face
by a below-zero blast
outside the Chicago Hilton.
My mind usually ignored
such premonitions
but the air
still trapped
in my body
slowly circulated
until a centrifugal force
overwhelmed me with vertigo
and I was unable
to answer the telephone.
november, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
as he sat slumped at the marble counter
in the master bathroom
facing the mirror which spanned
the width of the wall
he stared forward
and craned his neck
tilting his head this way
then that, slowly opening
his mouth as wide as can be
then slowly closing his lips
examining himself with squinting eyes
the routine was as repetitive as time
transforming his face
as if in a trance
first with a bleaching
and second by applying
shades of red and orange and yellow
on his cheeks and around his eyes
screwing on a big red ball
over his existing nose
and cramming a rainbow wig
atop his balding crown
november, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
You can’t force it
she said.
It was then I realized
I kept making decisions
without thinking
what might happen
to my beautiful Queen.
Lost and searching
for something magical
to capture my eye
I slowly realized
my quest for patience
was nothing more
than an elusive wish.
february, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
out back you could see
just a few spots of green grass
but mostly it was snow
overnight a glaze enveloped
and made it all shiny
like aluminum
with no sun in sight
the air turned balmy
and by mid-afternoon
angels bathed out back
february two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Alone in the dark
the American orphan
escapes with eyes wide
into never ending amusement.
Traveling without moving
the orphan sails into hyperspace
and past make-believe stars
in search of a twisted Disney World.
With no place to call home
the American orphan
reaches beyond
present day reality
bypassing suffering at home
and half a world away.
february, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Plants thrive incredibly
inside their shack.
Without money
education
opportunity
they defy logic.
Is it magic
or are the cultivators
blessed?
How does such a model
of poverty
get by with just botany?
They say it’s a matter
of relativity.
The neighbors
ashamed
of the eyesore
still marvel at their craft.
nineteen eighty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we had met it seems ages ago
at a time when no one knew
how to plant corn or make bread
back then days were upside down
and the moon was locked
in its place: a perfect excuse
to exaggerate without consequence
and pretend logic never existed
as time passed many faces rotated
around the clock
some memorable
some forgotten
some forever fixed in consciousness
without any particular reason
the alternative path rarely presented itself
until one night in the future
the moon beamed a smile
and there we stood face to face
august two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
This blank white page
is about to be changed
is about to be creased
and bent in ways
never before imagined.
At the mercy
of folds and reversals
this piece of paper
takes on various shapes
such as triangles and trapezoids
and quadrilaterals
in the end resembling
some sort of
prehistoric creature
with bad intentions.
february two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Walked a mile to see a friend
On the last day of his life
Just to hear what he had to say
Just to listen to his lies
I study his eyes they tell me
Something you should know
They tell me about the monsters
And how they stole the show
He talked of his days in poverty
And how he rock & rolled
Showed me worn-out photos
From the days he worked alone
But we all knew another tale
The one he’d never tell
Like one day up upon the hill
The monsters looked so real
The monsters must have took his life
The monsters must have won
They took away his sanity
They stole away his son
But we all knew another tale
The one he’d never tell
When one day up upon the hill
The monsters looked so real
He said his past was not for real
He believed in another time
He walked the halls of yesteryear
And searched up in the skies
He never lived without the fear
Knowing that death was near
Never found the greater truth
Until the monsters took his hill
The monsters must have took his life
The monsters must have won
They live down deep inside of us
They’re always having fun
two thousand four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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