I take these pictures on the run
snapshots of a life eluding me
no matter how hard I try
to catch up to it
my eye envisioning the present
blinking like camera clicks
preserving each shot
in my memory
by the time I reserve a moment
to rewind and fast forward
I marvel at the enigmatic
nature of the chase
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
breakfast al fresco
at a downtown bistro
sunday morning sun
shining sweetly
neither street sounds below
nor slight southerly breeze
affecting the eggs benedict
or belgian waffle or freshly brewed
hazelnut coffee
the impending winter storm
[months yet away]
merely a figment
of anyone’s imagination
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the fire must have gone out
in the middle of the night
and whoever was responsible
for keeping it going
was nowhere to be found
outside the snow drifts
nearly reached the eaves of the garage
and opening the front door
would probably—to say the least
be a bad idea
out back the barn doors
were wide open & banging
against the wall
both horses out of their stalls
the sleigh also missing
gazing out the front bay window
we noticed not one chimney in sight
had smoke billowing out of it
and suddenly
we became frightened
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
my father goes to bed early
before the sun has set
hoping to find the dream he left behind
the night before
his screams are silenced by
a waxing gibbous
growing larger before his eyes
he is in awe of it
asking permission to take a bite out of it
but the moon says the fruit is not ripe
and my father
dejected
walks into the setting sun
there he is consumed by the next dream
wide awake in his crib
he is happy to be a child again
believing it is the moon
who had brought him back to life
back when his mother was the moon
a wonderful storyteller
altering her appearance day by day
and night by night
she fed him cow’s milk & swiss cheese
when the time was right
she sent him out into the pasture
telling him to discover a whole new world
and so off he went in search
of treasure
buried somewhere in the pasture
never to be seen again
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
listen how the wind whistles & sings
passing through trees without any leaves
an orchestral feeling in the making
november’s promise comes & goes
the end & beginning of a brand-new life
listen how the wind whistles & sings
days & nights pass by like a breeze
giving rise to the eventual sound of winter
an orchestral feeling in the making
bright autumn colors flash & fade
solitary birds lamenting their isolation
listen how the wind whistles & sings
fear not the invasion from the north
trumpets & fifes & drums leading the charge
an orchestral feeling in the making
how do you ever begin to believe
that there is light beyond the darkness
winds whistling & singing as you shudder
promising returning life to the trees
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
~ making sense of scattered seeds of thoughts
who shall I be today
but a character in a game
escaping my originality
in a state of nothingness
neither darkness nor light
exists in this world
new/used stem cells
injected into a dying brain
revitalizes my sense of self
replaying who I used to be
for the very last time
alive yet on the battlefield
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s never too late to change
if that’s what’s needed
to keep the peace
the doctor recommended
lightening up on the bud heavy
so I bought a bottle of scotch whiskey
placing it by the beside since that’s
where I start & end the day
I stopped weighing myself
after starting a diet based on
foreign proteins
broken promises
domesticated pastas
and starched pink shirts
believing what one doesn’t know
won’t kill me
with each passing hour my hair
& beard grow longer
my bell bottom jeans dragging on the floor
fraying beautifully & reminding me
how going backward
is just as easy as going forward
november two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m here & I’m not
seems funny how that works out
inside a digital world
people free to come & go
at their virtual leisure
as if time doesn’t matter
though matter surely does
dissolving
& reappearing
inside other dimensions
as if magic is at play
like a sleight of hand mastering
the here & the now
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
after the apocalypse
let’s plan on moving
back to california
the place may be smoldering
but what else is new
and real estate should be dirt cheap
if not downright up for grabs
I imagine somewhere along the beach
would be a good place
to set up camp
from there we can watch the sun
die into the ocean
night after night after starlit night
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in the other room
someone turned up the volume
to the next live selection
someone with just one name capturing
words pronounced beautifully
improvising & cultivating
sublimely belting someone else’s song
making it her very own
it’s how I remember it
but probably not how it went down
—recollections having a funny way
of spawning their own selective stories
similar to poetry
song has a way of making connections
in multitudes of ways
especially when remastered
in such a way
it brings tears to your eyes—
your heart largely affected
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s a spider
living in the sunroom
there’s plenty of food
underneath the couch
sometimes
I see it racing to & from
as if it’s either
scared of me
or its own shadow
I don’t see any other
insects
in the house
so it must be doing its job
and as long
as it doesn’t bother me
especially in my sleep
then I’m okay
with it living here rent free
but one false move
I swear
that little dude
is out of here
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
on the floor in the foyer
the three of us playing jacks
sitting cross-legged
going thru the motions procedurally
—the front door wide open
a breeze coming in through the screen
why do you look at me like that
she demands
we saw what you did so just move on
as the youngest I appreciated
the accolades
and so moving on is what I did
knowing her contempt
and the silence of the other one
only confirming my contention
I’ve arrived here
from another world
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you can learn so much
reading poetry—
things like patience
& perseverance come to mind
how you must pause & think
after certain lines
but only after consuming
all of them first
my mother was one
of the most voracious readers
of fiction I’ve ever known
—I remember her saying
poetry was not her cup of tea
but I suspect in reality
her speedreading mindset
simply got in the way
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I am the aftermath
alive within the bubble
protected by the almighty
permitting me to return to my feet
and walk again among
the living & the dead
[in & out of the rubble]
just as I had once done
thousands of years ago
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I would like to be
who I once was when
the world was less complicated
but I know the world
has always been complicated
and I just didn’t know it
at the time
so I say
I would like to be who I once was
when I didn’t know
the world was complicated
—and death was just something
that happened to other people
whether they be good
people or bad
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
believe in the here & now
and celebrate with me
all that is good under the sun
you may not know me
but I am your long lost brother
back from the dead
to proclaim the good news
believe in yourself
and celebrate with friends
all that is good under the stars
if you are blue
may it be purposeful
a temporary state of mind
giving way to awareness
believe in this world & beyond
eyes witnessing & celebrating
all that is good under your watch
october two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 