heavy is the rain falling on disquieted river
awakened from a disturbing dream
troubling and bone-chilling
springing forth afterburning energy
recycled into virgin snow
gently blanketing mountaintops
september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
exposed to your predicament
I refuse to feed my face
instead spend my free time
determining how to calm your fears
you say there is no place to go
and I say you’ve got to be kidding
if only you would accept the hand
reaching out to help you
september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
glass floor to be danced upon
shiny and bright by full moon
anxious to be noticed
spotlighting raindrops
falling from tallest ceilings
I’ve been inside this maze before
and always come out
smelling like roses
blowing my kisses into a mirror
constantly reinventing itself
august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
out of sight out of mind
black and white images
unconcerned by various mainstreams
a dark contrast to the very places
they can’t possibly comprehend
august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
wandering eyes drift toward faraway places
beyond the most restrictive boundaries
where all the gods’ offspring continuously
compete for your complete attention
august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I knew once my skin had broken
things would be changing quickly
I quietly ducked down below
to retrieve a sweater
arriving back on deck I felt quite
comfortable beneath endless starlight
in my mind I was witnessing a new
moon rising half-way across the world
july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m going to take them with me
each and every one of them
I’m going to box them up neatly
like the prettiest set of flowers
ever assembled
and present them with humility
to the spirit of the skies
july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
out back the boys chewed
on tobacco they called butterflyweed
and not a one of them had a single
thought in their head
inside the girls worked batch
after batch of monster cookies
television set playing in the background
radio blasting pop rock
not a one of them ever not talking
somewhere along the line
these monarch butterflies fly overhead
like an orange sundog drifting along
arcing like a rainbow through the midday sky
june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
for some reason only the crickets
came out that night
and before the break of dawn
all of the birds will have left the city
at the inception it was a nonevent
but in retrospect
it shouldn’t have taken so long
before the people started leaving
june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I showed up with plenty of time to spare
so I ordered myself a beer
nothing was really happening and I began
to wonder what brought me here
perhaps we had met in a previous lifetime
and me being here
was nothing more than a memory
or perhaps I’m still alive and only daydreaming
june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is an intangible stirring somewhere
perhaps in the clouds or in the water
in the ground or in the fire
it doesn’t matter ‘where’ really
it could be in the economy or in the wars
lying dormant in a billion dreams
it could be current events or
your everyday laissez-faire
but it is most definitely there
designed to reassure
true change is inevitable
june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they kept bringing in more men
untrained and unarmed
marching single file in and out of the fire
reborn into rising stars
cast away to recreate
new worlds on their own terms
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
half dozen white-eyed blackbirds
pace and fidget on a shelf
grooving to the white album
and lip-syncing at will
unsure what brought them there
not one of them cares
not as long as there are nuts to crack
and old-time rock to hear
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m not going to space without my cat
I told them
and all of sudden they start this foolish
talk about bumping me
It’s a little too late for that don’t you think
I tell them
and a day later
they agreed the cat can go
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s the first of may and all I have left
is this desire to sleep and
witness ruby-throated hummingbirds
feasting upon the flowers
may day two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she stitched and sewed all winter long
meticulously
almost feverishly
covering cork and rubber and yarn with
whatever kind of hide she could find
having promised her boys of summer
the only way they would not play ball
would be due to the most severe
inclement weather
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 