one dollar bill
playing origami
be it bow tie
or butterfly
gold ring or puppy dog
wise old owl
or smart bracelet
collecting data and
placing bets
turning ones into twos
and twos into tens
and so on and so forth
february two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
What is your problem America
why do you continue
to screw up both at home and abroad
acting like little children
in the house that Washington built
throwing tantrums and pointing fingers
unable to play in anyone’s sandbox
all because you believe
you’re better than anyone else
Strip down to your bare bones America
and expose yourself for who you are
shameless and afraid and insecure
like certain Hollywood directors
who think the world is theirs to take
like those players and lawyers
manipulating rules and laws of the land
benefiting nobody but themselves
and their related interests
Where o’where America do you go from here
after all the acts of war and aggression
having left the world a more dangerous place
how can you ever forgive yourself
for genocide and slavery and hypocrisy
when will you ever truly turn the page
converting past wrongs into true rights
starting with finding a way
to house and clothe and feed your own
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I was asked to say a prayer
on her behalf
having passed unexpectedly
unknown how many years
before her time
all eyes locked and unblinking
blank faces
wrapped in cellophane
barely breathing and in dire need
of comforting words
they say she’s still plugged in
and purring right along
keeping time
with each iteration
one rosary bead at a time
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
thirty minutes and counting down
how in the hell can they say
that’s all that’s left
especially knowing the fire
has just begun
is it me or is it everyone I know
[whether dead or alive]
needs to put their two cents in
every chance they get
as if to say “I told you so”
well yes I answer rhetorically
I never did imagine I’d
get out of this place alive
but I’m much obliged
knowing you’ve been
waiting for me all this time
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
The groundhog checked into the bed
and breakfast on January 31st
The year was twenty twenty
and the owner thought he looked
familiar but couldn’t quite
put her finger on it
Perhaps you’ve seen me
on the big screen
the groundhog conjectured
tipping his cap as he ambled up the stairway
suitcase in tow and lilliputian tail waving
Oh one more thing
the lady of the house called out
how long will you be staying
with us Mister Murphy
you know you’re welcome here
as long as you please
she said smiling
her hands clasped together
That is so kind of you Madame
I suppose it all depends
upon this Pennsylvania weather
but to be sure
it could be as long as six weeks
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
february is on my mind
but she’s nowhere in sight
pretend morning fog
whispers in my ear
you’ve got no place to go
so I curse the winds
stuff suffocating thoughts
inside my pockets
telling myself
one day I’ll see the light
I keep waking up
in the middle of the night
trees burning brightly
firefighters fighting
for a clear path out
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
never in a million years
was I supposed to survive the fall
plummeting from twenty thousand feet
arms like wings and widespread
gradually gaining control
slowly descending in sweeping circles
miraculously transforming
right before your very eyes
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
temperatures hovering around zero
for a good ten days now
it’s mid january and we’re so ready
to walk on ice
you don’t have to go out too far
these days to touch the sky
it’s all about augering through
letting the water breathe again
one little inspiration at a time
there’s nothing here to miss
except a warmer sun
and that southern breeze
the kind that keeps the raptors
from circling lower and lower
with each catch we do a little dance
and pass around the flask
perhaps like they once did
some five hundred years ago
in this sacred place
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it used to be so much louder
back when I swore
everything was going to be just fine
holding you in my arms
wiping away the tears
now there is mostly silence
and selective memories
planting flowers
or shoveling the walks
welcoming visitors near and far
no matter the season
or time of day
I heard the earth was shaking
tremendously
half a world away
I could only imagine you were
there among the survivors
trying to put the pieces
back together
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you ask me where I’ve gone
and I say I’ve always been here
even after passing on
I’m more than pretending I’m this
perennial probability
though sometimes I skip a year
and it is then you momentarily
forget all about me
don’t worry I say
I’ve not gone anywhere
always have I been both below
and above the earth
sometimes in full bloom
sometimes scattering seeds
sometimes fast asleep
when the wind is so strong
making you wonder if it’s just air
brushing up against your cheek
that is when you should think again
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I heard we lost the war again
when will we ever learn
from what I can tell probably never
not as long as the profits keep rolling in
Back in the old neighborhood
kids come and kids go
each generation playing with
weapons just as lethal as the next
most living to tell their stories
precious few never coming home again
When we return year after year
we don’t have a lot to say
though we all know what happened
out in the fields
will always feel like it was yesterday
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
let us pretend we are starting from scratch
that the sun has yet to reveal its brilliancy
rising above the ageless sea on a cloudless morning
as if the world itself is being reborn
free from the exploitation of the past
sudden happiness appears out of thin air
echoing through the valley of the mountains
promising change after years of inner turmoil
grey thoughts giving way to new ideas
like old songs playing in a new light
I often wonder about those inevitable days
will it be like floating peacefully down the river
its many voices gradually turning into one
plainly speaking to me for the first time
the drawbridge opening on command
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s never too late to change things up
perfectly fine to stop in your tracks
saying it’s high time to go another way
direction means less than motion itself
be it inward or westward or skyward
whether carving a new path
or repaving a once-abandoned one
when asked the spiritless question
where you see yourself over time
favor companionship over destination
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
children stretched across the library lawn
books selected from wooden crates
spotted randomly throughout the area
beach blankets spread out here and there
little ones sitting and reading to themselves
or out loud in small groups
the mid-morning sun shining brightly
across the green expanse
saturday morning visitors walking
in and out of the main doors
not a soul saying a word
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we were rehabbing under the bridge
swapping needles and day old bread
keeping the fire alive despite
the dampness in the air
there’s hardly any signal down here
but we had no problem
dialing in songs for the deaf
one rock classic after another
I hadn’t seen my sweetie in weeks
but word on the street says
she’s got to get me into her life
long before the next intervention
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
days getting longer
mid-morning colder than the day before
pedestrians walking briskly
hands stuffed inside pockets
inaudible words escaping into the air
breathe baby breathe
there’s never been a better time to be alive
everyone knows it can’t be
this cold for that much longer
here take my electric flannel blanket
it’s true we both know
the rains will again return like clockwork
washing away what remains
recalling strange familiarity
perhaps starting the final fateful season
january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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