No wires needed here
just plant yourself
in a pod
plunge yourself in
fantastical worlds
Supersonic speeds
flash images
long ago
boarding upon
magic carpet rides
History repeats
on movie screens
living dead
pretend nothing
ever existed
One way tickets
turn into gold
down below
where white rabbits
introduce new holes
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the sun went down
time after time
viewed by synthetic eyes
painted green
computed by plasma minds
learning to change the mood
from elation to blue
the streets disappeared
beneath the earth
giving rise to urban wasteland
man-made armies
evolving into superior thinkers
soon to problem solve
the world’s surrender
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wonder what lie inside
my lazy susan all these years
what one staple could it be
stashed away yet unafraid
Does she know I know she’s there
unseen and protected
by jars of peanut butter and
bags of tiny chocolate chips
Was it neglect or selfishness
that kept you in the dark
or was it simply my stupidity
not noticing how beautiful you are
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s something special about the underdog
how he manages to overcome the odds
beating a superior opponent
via intellect and luck
and lifting the spirits
of all the little people of the world
contrary to the underdog the dark horse
arrives out of thin air
achieving complete dominance
in stunning fashion
at times cheered by all of society
at times despised by every single side
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
wake me up and tell me
to eat something nutritious
like a bowl of peacefulness
wake me up and ask me
to read something beautiful
that will make me mindful
all roads lead to somewhere
teach me to wake up
with the birds as my alarm
while traces of morning light
illuminates my inner thoughts
teach me to wake up
to the fact that one day I will be
looking down on a world
that is no longer mine
smiling knowing I left my mark
a few are certain to find
wake me up
so I may grind some beans
and share them with you
on a rainy saturday morning
I may not always be here
but I will always
wake up
if not here
then somewhere else
where you are certain to find me
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
lights are everywhere like an
electric parade up and down
streets without ends
alien onlookers are amazed
with colors and sounds
this virtual airstrip provides
capable of calling forth
anything attracted to the lights
systematically tagged
the subjects board
kaleidoscope spaceships
buckling in and holding their breath
until reaching their final destination
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the wagon lie dormant in the garage
tucked away in the corner
behind the lawnmower and snowblower
filled with tonka construction trucks
yellow and rusty and somewhat dirty
spiders long ago moved in
weaving complexities along the
wagon’s plastic wheels and metal shaft
scurrying along the dusty
sides of the once shiny red body
taking inventory I keep them in mind
knowing one day the children
will visit with their own
and together we will discover
old things becoming new again
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they sailed along silver waves
in search of higher lands
the maps in their hands
aligned with ancient stars
that never shined so bright
under the bridge women rocked
stitching winter clothing
the children praying
for a higher power
to free them from their plight
as years turned into decades
mountains slowly emerged
caverns like beacons
calling forth their vessels
to dock within the light
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this notion about life giving you lemons
seems a bit silly
I mean
what about apples
and oranges and pears
there is orange juice
and apple juice
but with pears
it seems they’re
mostly compatible with jello
with lemons I envision
shots of tequila and table salt
even though the most popular
drink of all must be lemonade
as children we constructed a booth
and sold nature’s candy
all summer long
and when the homeless arrived
with their hands held out
we smiled and offered them
dixie cups full of our finest elixir
two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Vinegar, red pepper and salt,
conceived and concocted with care,
bring delight to the tongue
when properly mingled
with Worcestershire, celery and juice.
Mary befriended me when she was a virgin,
taught me the phrase: ‘hair of the dog….’
Not until the morning after
did the adage appear as a revelation
when the leftover lager mixed itself with tabasco.
The addiction grew like a weed and teased
me in spirits; found itself in sauces,
casseroles and fried entrées.
The tiny bottles wouldn’t last three days;
twelve pack cases were stored in the pantry.
The habit persisted until the day
Mary would not bleed
when the taste for vinegar, red pepper and salt
was replaced by sweet acidophilus milk.
nineteen ninety-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we tested the water
by shooting bullets at it
then crossed to the
other side without missing
a beat
bullets never scare me
it’s the people who own them
that do
the ones who spend their
weekends at the shooting range
or the gamers club
or any dungeon of a basement
where m is for murder and
nothing else matters
where killing sprees can last
for hours on end
now that we made it
to the other side
to a place without war games
real or imagined
there was no reason
to remain on high alert
and with gratitude
we surrendered our arms
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we worked the fields
wielding sickles
and scattered thoughts of
one day crossing the
border into worlds
before unseen
we step and sway and cut
and sing in praise as
women and children
transform the stalks into
bundles for the wind
and sun to remedy
we left the fields
nearly naked and dotted
with purposeful randomness
our backs still strong
our minds set on preparing
this evening’s meal
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
ten thousand whispers
brought down the clouds
turned the river into rain
and dust into life
whispers gently faded
subsisted ‘neath the waves
nearly turned to nothingness
by preying on decay
circles of whispers
sometimes escape the ark
curious metamorphoses
sailing further and further away
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
nobody asked me to share
my dreams with anyone
so I kept them to myself
nurtured them as best I could
in the middle of the night
silence awakened me
beckoned me to walk alone
in streets that never sleep
along the way I imagined
the sad ones called my name
reaching out like lonely stars
dying to find a home
I gathered them in jars
full of oxygen and hope
promised to return again
when eyes are laid down low
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I stood at the podium
declaring my faith to a world
I once called home
the strangers in front of me
knelt and lifted their arms
anticipating a deliverance
they had only dared to dream
as I breathed into the hall
they began to understand
freedom was here to stay
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
never mind the world ends today
and you left so many
things undone
never mind the starving children
throughout the world
who could easily be fed
with a little capital
and alien ingenuity
never mind the excessive waste
you selfishly accumulated
and contributed
toward urban ski slopes
and 18 hole golf courses
as the world ends today
never mind racial bias
gender bias
religious bias
nationality bias
and any kind of intriguing international bias
never mind discrimination
and mistrust
especially of crooked governments
and wars unjust
never mind outspokenly peaceful men
becoming silenced as we speak
by programs perpetuated
by deceit and hatred
by programs advocating
five o’clock killings
for everyone to see
never mind all the work undone
before the world ends today
never mind how it must bother you
knowing the story
never changes
september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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