The fear in your face
scared me half to death.
In just a matter of seconds
your eyes told me a story
I never want to hear again.
Why you drifted into the desert
that starless night
only you’ll understand.
I just prayed to god
your pistols were loaded.
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
i am never alone
as long as beer
is nearby
whether she be
in the refrigerator
or at the corner store
after a long day at work
i try to recall
the night before
wonder if any beer
is left before i stop
to buy some more
at happy hour
my friends say
final final final
as we clank
our frosty mugs
to toast another round
when life is less bright
i cry in my beer
and swallow my tears
but when life is grand
i raise my hand
to give praise with a beer
some say heaven
there is no beer
but i say
to hell with that
please bury me
with six pack in hand
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Born to a clan of precision
stone cutters we hunt
for the larger population
roaming mesas and plateaus
and mountainsides
armed with clovis tip spears
knives and knowledge
our larger than life trophies
transformed into meat and clothing
jewelry and armor and weapons
and terrifyingly heroic tales
of gigantic proportions
leaving the little ones
amazed and inspired to dream
big all winter long
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I recall the day
she was thin
wearing a new
eggshell white t-shirt
innocently smiling
The passage of time
reshaped her views
becoming impartial
to the crescent
and the cross
Continuing to mature
languor set in
her spirit seemingly
broken in half
her desires numb
Feeding on earth
she became pregnant
with knowledge
bulging like a gibbous
and loud as a siren
Her finest moment
exposes all that is dark
shining light on
an uncertain world
full of hope
and trepidation
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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