drums bang slowly into the night
keeping time with toy soldiers
marching through the streets
enforcing a curfew imposed
by the new boss promising
freedoms this world has yet to know
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Now that the house is empty
I easily awaken from cries
in the dark, sneaking in
through the bedroom window
on a cool, autumn morning.
I roll out of bed at four a.m.
and rush to the window
like a child on Christmas Eve;
eyes focused on the house
across the street, a lone light
leaking through the drawn shade.
Once the child has grown quiet
from his mother’s magical touch,
I crawl back to bed, wondering
where my own children might be
and if they ever think of me
when hearing cries in the dark.
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
aggression builds from the stress
of surviving day by day
protecting what space is mine
and jousting with antennae helmeted
ne’er-do-wells who want to steal my girl
numb to the idea my days are numbered
i chirp lullabies out in the open field
promising hundreds of offspring
a seat by the fire before the first frost
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I rode my new bike called Crimson
down the Southern route
of the Urban Trail.
I soon met a squad car inching toward me;
two of its wheels on the path
and two on the grass.
The officer flinched his finger and thumb
directly at me with a smile.
I just stared at him in passing,
confused like a dog
sorting out a strange animal
for the first time.
As I carried on I pondered
changing into my red cape
and saving the day
by single-handedly
apprehending the villain
who lurked somewhere in the brush.
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
how old can you be before understanding
who you are? is there an hour if missed
makes it undefined? or does the inner self
turn back time and take you to a place
where you just started to breathe?
what event is truly more life-changing
than whatever happens today?
and what happens if someone today
stands in your way?
do you just mow them down?
may two thousand seven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the drawing pencils
were in perfect shape
all sharpened just once
or twice and neatly
kept in their cardboard box
after midnight i found them
scattered on the drawing table
some worn down to the nub
others snapped in half
all terrorized by chance
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this underground railroad
runs hundreds of miles
beneath streets
built upon streets
five or six deep
it spirals deeper
into the earth
like a long and winding
corkscrew
when the excavators
reached the end
of the track
they became trapped
into a civilization
that has no end
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Your eyes are like oceans
So wide and so deep
They’ve been through the calm
And the storm
They’re ready for sleep
Oh baby sweet baby
Hush and hide your eyes
Seek all your treasures
Be surprised what you find
Your boat is floating
Your sails all tucked in
You’re near the shore
Near the port
Soon you’ll be dreamin’
Oh baby sweet baby
Hush and hide your eyes
Seek all your treasures
Be surprised what you find
Your eyes don’t pretend
Their blue’s nearly gone
They’ve endured enough
For one day
They’ll be docked until dawn
Oh baby sweet baby
Hush and hide your eyes
Seek all your treasures
Be surprised what you find
Your journey has ended
You’re tired and beat
You’re in my arms
In my heart
Your day is complete
Oh baby sweet baby
Hush and hide your eyes
Never be alone in this world
Please always be mine
nineteen ninety-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
We’d buy smokes and tall boys
and fill up the ’69 Tempest
at the Mobile station uphill
from where the Mississippi
runs East and West
Once underneath I-74
we’d hang a right onto Riverside Drive
wind our way towards East Village
The late August sunrays
reflected a lifeline
off the murky wakes and white sails
latching its horizontal eyes
onto the Pontiac
lasering its rims as it speeds
towards Davenport’s ones
september two thousand ten
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you forgot to tell me
where you had gone
so I wandered into the night
dreaming I would find you
somewhere safe
the night never ended
neither did the dream
of finding you
beyond the treetops
as an infinite light
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I merge onto route one
around midnight
a cup of coffee
shaking in my hand
another placed
in the holder
in the back seat
my darling exhales angrily
pleading with baby
and begging the lord
to give us more time
I race past the limit
chasing the new moon
and hugging the white line
laughing at the thought
I’m a daddy any minute
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a ton of things need fixing
around here
but i choose to watch the cubs
probably lose another game
and hop on the internet
do some poking around
tweet a few hashtags
it’s not like the yard doesn’t
get mowed
or the toilet stays broke
it’s just that the list is endless
and sometimes it’s more fun
to wonder who’ll get it all done
once my jig is up
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
caught on thin ice
i suddenly became lost
like a runaway kite
my cheeks busting
eyes leery yet fearless
of the insane cracks
daring my bladed soles
to never stop flying
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
There’s something about this coffee,
I said, speaking to the cat,
knowing she knew exactly what I meant
because she too drinks the same water
from this dated kitchen.
There’s nothing right about this place,
it seems to have lost
the intimacy it once had.
Instead of doing anything about it
I’m just going to drink
this lousy cup of coffee
and wonder where the angels went.
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
When sails are set high
And the wind is just right
We can coast
Toward the shore
We can make it
Before light
The stars up above
Are like a guide
That we trust
When their light
Reaches out
We know we are loved
two thousand seven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
What goes on down here sometimes doesn’t make sense;
seems we’re all running around doing a bunch of nothing,
like buying Gold or picking up a 30 pack on the way home.
Just about everyone’s got an agenda these days;
some like to push theirs where they don’t belong,
others keep them propped to their ear when behind the wheel,
while the silent majority keep it to themselves
like it’s some big secret.
Everything is so plugged in that when the electricity fails
chains of events lead to even bigger headlines
such as “Man loses dog.”
Now that we number seven billion it’s high time
we call back Einstein, maybe even Darwin,
ask them to figure out how to get out of this mess
before something really serious happens.
july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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