you spent a lifetime
away from home
discovering wormholes
this side of saturn
breaking old laws
and discovering the mother lode
leaving you to question
how many postcards
are better than earth’s
may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they closed the high road
for reformation
or so says the orange sign
attached to the electric fence
blocking the entrance
to the mountain road
it’s no wonder the locals say
the entire system
has suffered from misuse by
political scientists
and secret police
for some hundred years
once the lights sail past
the stratosphere
the high road will reopen
and pilgrims camping
at the base will resume
their arduous journey
april two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this little planet
collects preciousness
from throughout the galaxy
this ring shines
from outside energies
we’ve yet to understand
the established gods
refuse to assign value
for what is worthless
without ending
where would we begin
march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the flight across endless waves
remains forever lost
the passengers abandoning time
in a downward spiral
their minds suspended
in horrifically incoherent thoughts
as an oceanic escape hatch welcomes
their translucent deliverance
into an alien world
march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
i keep wondering about the
rover on the planet mars
and the guy with the joystick
guiding it around during
daylight hours
telling it where to dig
and using tools at his disposal
to turn a rock over on its side
imagine the look on his
face when he uncovers
the false side of a mountain
exposing a sophisticated
learning ground
where time-tested
ancient mariners develop
tomorrow’s space travelers
february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the room trembled with silence
as i sat alone on the high chair
punching keys and the space bar
with fingers and thumbs
moments earlier the silence
was interrupted with the clip clip clipping
of the fingernail clipper
and i remember thinking
what a masterful invention it was
as i purposely cut the left hand nails
much shorter than the right
the room’s silence grew louder
with terrible thoughts racing out of my mind
ricocheting off the walls and ceiling and floor
before returning to my fingers
and magically appearing on the plasma screen
i remember thinking it was such an awful silence
as tears of joy swelled in my eyes
my fingers racing millions of miles per millisecond
traveling beyond space and time
before crashing beautifully
into this alien creation
october two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
papa made it clear
he wanted his bones
buried out in the field
using the same
crop circle pattern
the aliens created
back in the summer
of nineteen ninety-two
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
reborn from the ashes
of ancient man
my new robot registers
some 2.4 million
years of age
her memory recalls
walking upright
from the very start
when dinosaur parts
sold on street corners
newly retooled in a shop
in downtown phoenix
his synthetic upgrades
looked as real as
tomorrow’s avatars
aware its architecture
forever evolved
it didn’t take long
until i was integrated
into the next release
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a murder of crows
bide their time
on the outskirts of town
waiting patiently
as the virus
gripped the residents
with fever and fear
death by death
the murder grew larger
their calls becoming
creepingly human
their strategy
instinctively fine-tuned
and well orchestrated
the devastation
never aired anywhere
no mention of crows
nor intelligence
of any pandemic
ever germinating
in an alien field
april two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we dove into the waters
and found a way
to not only survive
but thrive
without the usual oxygen
we once took for granted
january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 