Into the Earth


This poem was my first blog post on December 7, 2011.
It is now the last one on this site.
A very special thanks to everyone who visited my poetry over the years.


In my mind I draw a square
in the very center of the garden

From there I dig into the earth
using the seasoned spade
usually reserved for plantings

The hole slowly turns into a cube
as three mounds resemble
Egyptian resting places

Further down the soil
becomes hard and cold
the clay malleable enough
to mold eternal companions

Satisfied the opening
is mathematically sound
I hold the spade at my side
sweat falling off my forehead
silently instructing the child
to bring forth her loved one
to the newly built altar




november two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

In absentia


I was born in Illinois
along the Mississippi
but actually never lived there

I recently discovered
the hospital I was born in
—St. Anthony’s & more
specifically the building itself—
doesn’t exist anymore

Now I’m beginning to think
perhaps I’m a fortunate son
for having never
ever lived there

may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Retreating within


Alone in the backyard
softly singing a lullaby
I once knew by heart
so many years ago

The sky became twilighty—
I heard a lone engine
slowly whining on the tracks
miles away along the river

My little ditty drifted
& faded from memory
giving way to birdsong
ushering in the dusk

Their beautiful trills
transported me inwardly
—somehow sadness
seemed to fill the air


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Maybe I’ll see you at church next Tuesday


For a certain ritual
a small amount of my own blood
is required—how would you propose
I collect it

I’ve been working on my shadow effects
learning how to scare myself in case
my heartbeat gets any lower

With a little more work
soon I’ll be able to see better in the dark

The sun doesn’t shine anymore
a true exaggeration like an all night rain
keeping me depressed

Some questions shouldn’t have to be asked
the more rhetorical the better—
like do you want me to stay

Go ahead and leave me forever
acting as if forgiveness
isn’t even a thing anymore





may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

misremembering


my memory fails me
only when some third party
steps in & says that’s not
how it went down

while that may be the case
my version most likely
plays out much better
for everyone involved


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved