once a messenger of love
he finds himself grounded
trying to flex his broken wings
he walks barefoot on forest trail
bow in hand and empty quiver
strapped across his shoulder
hunger had set in days ago
his canteen containing but a few
drops of morning dew
determined to save himself
he calls upon the heavens
to pierce his ailing heart
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Spring is here and spring shall stay
like precious childhood memories
lingering in the background
forever reminding you
nothing ever really grows old
Green is not quite the same
as the green of spring
emerging anew from the thaw
like an arm reaching out
requesting to be waltzed away
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
fields of wildflowers stretched
as far as the eye could see
and I stood there
unmoved
void of emotion
believing its beauty
could never belong to me
cloudless skies of blue stretched
as far as the eye could see
and I stood there
motionless
hopelessly lost
looking for a sign
I was not alone in this world
daylight turned to dark
and I surrendered to the earth
fell asleep in the open
curled into a ball
like a seed
praying for the rain
to bring me back to life
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
rain pounded relentlessly
throughout the cities
canceling out the most
extraordinary rhythm and blues
racing past sullen streets
and endless alleyways
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
my cell phone rings and I lift it off
the table just enough to see the number
and let it back down with a snarl
you’re not going to answer it she says
that’s right I’m not going to answer it
the number’s not in my contacts
and I don’t recognize it
maybe it’s somebody from your
attorney’s office with some
good news she says
believe me that call was not from my
attorney’s office
what are you laughing at she says
I’m just saying maybe you’re rich
and you don’t even know it
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sorrowful soul mate
casting nets
from a sparse pine
comes up empty time & again
determined to move on
one tree at a time
the song forever weaves
through solitary twilight
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sometimes I sit in the dark
and sleep in the light
tricking myself into believing
traveling through time is as
easy as spotting a magpie
on a fencepost or road sign
eyes of the crow and of the jay
enter my waking dreams
projecting past lessons
and future flashbacks
tricking me into believing
the fork in the road is near
reading in the twilight
from a book I know by heart
I pause and listen
to those clamoring birds
convincing me my story
has already been told
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they bought all the tickets they
could get their hands on
because living out their lives
in unfamiliar venues
felt like being out-of-body
they preferred one-way tickets
because it added
to the excitement of possibly
never coming back
whether cruising across the country
or sailing beyond the far side
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
everything came out of hiding
except of course
that which devoured
the other thing
like the worm to the robin
or the flower to the deer
trees blossom above the concrete
dwarfed by sun-hungry high rises
giving temporary shelter
to angels warming their wings
rising above the surface
transitory spirits take to the streets
assessing what the winter had done
by taking a simple counting of heads
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
aliens loved to return here
to feast on information
but mainly to experience
poetic life in the fast lane
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
It was a murder mystery dinner
and I was asked to dress
like Colonel Sanders
and bring a bucket of chicken
Sipping on whiskey
and smoking in the parlor
I listen how Thurston and Lovey
purchased vintage luggage
on amazon-dot-com for
pennies on the dollar
had them shipped free to their
second home in The Bahamas
In the next room Charlie’s angels
watch Norman Mailer
play chess with Jesus Christ
briefly interrupted by the
unidentified host whispering
something or other in their ear
I kept expecting Colonel Mustard
to make an appearance
but I guess that would
just be too weird
but then I heard there was a drug scene
going down in the lower level
and I raised my eyebrows
and thought twice
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a thin vapor trail
slipped in through the front door
but nobody was home
if I had been there
I would have noticed something
was quite different
but I was gone on a
journey of a lifetime
the place had not changed
all these years
everything perfectly in place
as if nobody had really
lived there
while my mind wandered
away from worldly ideals
seeking out transcendental gurus
residing on new moons
my spirit remained behind
waiting patiently
to be seen
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sitting in the natural light in
an outside cafe
one warm spring day
I cross my legs
exposing their whiteness
an elderly woman asks
if this seat is taken
and I shake my head and stretch
out my darkened arm
palm open toward the metal chair
across from me
I remove my satchel from my shoulder
and place it under the table
sliding it further with my foot
we hold a pleasant and somewhat
intelligent conversation
she drinking sweet hibiscus tea
and me a double espresso
I told her I was from the third world
and she nodded and laughed
saying she was from the old one
I went on to confess I shave my legs
but seldom my face
and she smiled and said
she did just the opposite
she listened to every single word I said
even the ones spoken in another language
attempting to give clarity to my predicament
I went on to say I don’t believe
I belong here
that I was thinking of checking out for good
If you don’t mind she responded
please give me a head start
and I’ll be on my way
before you take me with you
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
wind chimes chatter in the mist
varied in pitch and velocity
powered by dark winds
swirling past steel spiders
rusty fish swim by twilight
nipping at one-legged flamingo
all tucked in for the night
silent rocks in aerated streams
attract ceramic turtles and
green neon frogs
settling on that perfect spot
avian whispers segue into
full-fledged sirens
scaring the wildflowers away
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they sat in a circle
boy girl
boy girl
boy girl
making up a story
one sentence at a time
a story about a stickman
made out of salty pretzels
wearing a white paper hat
and strutting around
outside the ring
twirling a magician’s cane
and making each one disappear
with a simple tap of their crowns
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s no reason to cry
but go ahead if you want to
there’s nobody around
not in the parlor
or the kitchen
not even in the sunroom
if you look outside you’ll
notice it’s bright
and quiet
and windless
it’s early spring
but it feels like late autumn
and this feeling
hits you in the gut
something tells you
something’s not quite right
a subtle reminder
there’s work yet to be done
april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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