from the bottom of my heart
there is much bleeding
noticeable but unseen
to the naked eye
offers flood in
but negotiations break down
the stitchers either
went on strike
or simply headed home
in the meantime
most everyone knows
what happens next
how the satiation
& the emptiness collide
creating a once-in-a-lifetime
celebratory occurrence
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
on the fringes
of poetry & geopolitical
ideologies
suddenly the voices
once repeating
serenity now
are one by one
shut down
do you remember
what january
everything changed
or is that a
made-up thing
created inside a
time capsule
orbiting the sister star
white-haired wizard
weaponizes weather
storms smolder
& smother
in a natural sort of way
bouts of ego
bent on destruction
angel eyes awaiting
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I was wondering about those
fabergé eggs & whatever
it would take to get my hands on some
I’ve pretended to live a life
I don’t lead
for as long as I can remember
the yachts & the jewels & the artwork
& whatever else is registered in my name
all is true as true can be
money in the bank
money on main street
money on wall street & foreign exchanges
properties on shorelines & mountaintops
or deep inside redwood forests
ambition oh yes
there is plenty of ambition
getting down to the bottom of beautiful things
especially when taking into account
the last of the eggs
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I wasn’t supposed to be here
I would say
it was a line I had been practicing
since nineteen ninety-nine
where were you supposed to be
someone would invariably ask
at this point I would
pretend to pay my tab
and walk through the back door
murmuring something about
how my story is as unbelievable
as my untimely demise
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
standing there naked
your final pose
not feeling the knife
nor hearing the words
spoken over your body
somebody might be
taking notes
or talking into a mic
making comments
little to no relevance
there is no way out
this much you know
and so you breathe
ever so deeply
disregarding the past
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
one too many distractions
and you’ll find yourself dead
just go ask any politician
you may have elected
how do you slice up
that which has always been split
how do you put together a puzzle
missing hundreds of pieces
the answer of course
is nobody gives a rat’s ass
since we were born here
we’ve gotten used to propaganda
that somehow this land is ours
fair and square
which of course leads
to the crux of the problem
fault lines continually changing
right along with the demographics
of an ever volatile populace
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
my game was good enough
to keep out of the marsh
giving myself [at least] a chance
to shine on a steely day
I ventured into the forest
[perhaps for the last time]
knowing full well
some singletrack trails
have no end
voices along the way
whisper & shout [on occasion]
interested in body language
and how it might translate
once leaving itself
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
lost in the crowd
I am afloat in a nameless sea
the lesser part of a wave
reaching for an orangish moon
nobody sees me
as I weave & bob & jettison
sinking & resurfacing time & again
as if manipulated by a line
the cycle is unbeaten
at will forces catching & releasing
faces becoming whitecaps
rolling forward & diving deep
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m less concerned
of my own demise
than I am of your
mental health
I’ve checked in & out
of clinics
most of my life
and each time I swear
I’m starting
all over again
But as we all know
each & every one
was nothing
but a false start
having always wound up
in the same place
I walked one hundred miles
to find you no longer
live in the house
I was raised in
When I knocked
on the door
and a stranger answered
I said I’m sorry
I must have the wrong
number
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m not from this land
but I’ve been hearing
good news is on the way
whether it’s here to stay
is another story
but as of now
more & more bones
are being found beneath
the surface
confirming what the locals
have been saying
for decades
the front page
is not indicative of a world
some say is parallel
one in which escapes
and survives the greatest
of all evil
by way of mere
counter-madness
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
don’t read too much into things
you certainly know better
but sometimes it’s thrilling
to open your mind to dangers
as long as it doesn’t kill you
when you leave something behind
like a hash pipe or razor blade
don’t go back looking for it
there may be an ambush
awaiting you
remember the laws of nature
always prevail over the rule of law
so follow your instincts
instead of stupidities
& let the wind take you where it will
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
end the madness and make old things new again
so many overused words
can you name one
will you dare
may I start with ominous
or something less
mysterious
like life or death
it matters not which words
become misused
or misunderstood
be it recently
or centuries ago
reinvented by the likes
of poetic artisans
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
where do you go when I can’t find you
the shadow of someone else
seems to take your place
a body double that looks like you
but doesn’t
I chased you once out of the city
and into the woods
but your lungs were cleaner than mine
your years younger
when I reached the fork in the trail
I asked your shadow to continue
and so I followed it along the lower path
[where do you hide when I can’t find you
do you go underground like a cat
into the sewer system
or like a rat racing across the water
almost as if it’s being pulled
without a motorboat
without a rope]
when the trail ends & the concrete begins
your shadow dissipates
into the center of something
leaving me on the shoulder of a road
gravelly & shadowless
a hand to the ear
I listen for your voice in the wind
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
what doesn’t ache
cannot be touched
at least not without
a surgical knife
on the third day
the sutures remain
the heart’s whereabouts
undisclosed
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
look at me
how I’m dying a slow death
confirming the fact
I am no different than you
I walk with shovel in hand
looking for a place to dig
a place to rest
[or transform into a tree]
how far I must venture
is anyone’s guess
they keep telling me
they know how I feel
which of course is an absurdity
or perhaps a simple affirmation
that I’m closer [than I’d ever admit]
to my final destination
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
nothing is off limits
this is a universal truth
well before the making of man
the forecast keeps changing
challenging the stationary
beneficial to the fluid ones
coming & going at their leisure
the trick is finding out
what lesser god to latch onto
understanding the sign of the times
like a small patch of blue sky
inviting & unapologetic
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 