poetry by j matthew waters

my maddening tipping point

all I hear are echoes anymore
echoes from anything making a sound
a blender in the kitchen
going round and round
its motor never quite leaving my mind
mixed in with machine guns going
competing with armies of lawn mowers
and battalions of snow blowers
while little bumblebees buzz around
alongside birds of every nation singing their songs
echoes of bed sheets entangled around
myself and a young woman I once knew
echoes of clock towers turning back time
with chimes ringing backwards
bringing forth a new century
that would eventually become
my maddening tipping point

august two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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3 thoughts on “my maddening tipping point

  1. And the echoing 3am thoughts – – –

  2. we seem to drown in sounds unwished for

  3. denise0904 on said:

    this quite accurately describes a bad hangover I once had.

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