people say nothing changes
the greatest lie ever told
as if the milky way itself
is a permanent timestamp
and that the moon
that cunning chameleon
hadn’t always been there for you
but certainly not the time
you first heard that really cool song
riding shotgun
in the old man’s mercury
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
something is missing
but it’s difficult to pinpoint
exactly what it is
an immediate death
tends to make the mind
run rampant
searching for answers
to questions
that no longer exist
believing that finding
what is missing will
somehow put everything
back in alignment
what’s missing may not
be that important after all
but it’s nice knowing
whatever it may be
can’t possibly
be gone forever
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in this day and age
you don’t always see it
or sense it
or feel it in your bones
but it’s definitely around
especially when you least expect it
this thing called love
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
forced to leave the kitchen table
from underneath
there were calls to be kicked at
as I crawled out
ordered to be exiled to my room
nobody pays attention
to anything around here
so soon thereafter I sneak out
through the front door
easily enough
along the way I met
my oldest brother
telling me I’m in big trouble
hell don’t I know it
I don’t saying a fucking word
moving on in search
of a safer house
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I was burning in a dying village
my screams but a whisper within gale force winds
The seas were raging like wildfires
—the skies violent in color & sound & redolence
In all the chaos I had miraculously fallen fast asleep
Come daybreak I awoke to sheer silence
feeling as if I had been reborn
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Muscle memory
gets me from point A to point B
permitting the retelling
of the same stories
and every now & again
to a brand new audience
I once got lost
in the streets of Japan
unable to find my way back
home for a number of years
Those who knew me best
thought I’d either gained a new
identity or died somewhere
with all the others
in Hiroshima or Nagasaki
Little did they know when I
emerged out of the shadows
[sometime back in forty-nine]
my old war stories somehow
took on new meaning
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Some people don’t want to hear certain things
I believe I was born to suffer
Over time I’ve come to accept the role
You see I am no different than you
I am my own god in human form
But upon my death I’ll become a true god
It will be from that moment on I should
Begin to understand my fate
The part that baffles me though
Is why haven’t I figured out who I was
In my prior lives
And for this reason
I can’t remember when I’ve felt this sad
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in the land of the giants
you’d think the little people
have nary a chance
yet there they are
sharpening their swords
and licking their chops
for just one chance
to take over the world
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you open the front door
first thing in the morning
sticking your head out
and looking around
but there is nothing to find
no newspaper
no milk bottles
no basket of goodies left by
the children next door
after shutting the door
and retreating back into your den
you wonder whatever
happened to yesterday
when everything seemed
so perfectly normal
all the while knowing
deep in your heart
that was never the case
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there was a collective sigh of relief
once the crowds cleared
and the skies returned to normal
though the countryside was not
what it used to be
at least we’re still alive
[to tell the tale]
thanks to the latest alien
intervention
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Tending bar
on a school night
we’d announce last call
half past midnight
the help helping themselves
to a pint of beer
once the last of the students
made their way out
into the night
Soon afterwards
I’d find myself with pen & paper
in a corner booth
counting syllables
& rhyming words
picked up from strangers
who had no other place
to go for the night
other than here
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
in the absence of the sun
we keep warm in ways
never before imagined
keeping the fire going overnight
requires non-stop singing
and caffeinated beverages
come daybreak the village collectively
participates in the power of prayer
believing that by doing so
one day the sun-god will return
to its once prominent glory
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is nonsense in her reasoning
often mistaken as a mistletoe
on a cool summer’s eve
she sparkles like champagne
on the rarest of nights
a warm sky lit up in the countryside
as the townsfolk fall fast asleep
unknowing what they are missing
except through their dreaming
out in the fields she dances all alone
the wind light & airy
at play with the rhythm of the music
swaying through the trees
contributing to her mysteries
that of a forgotten night
and the brilliance of her eyes
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the lessons of the day
fade into obscurity
all serious examinations
that once occupied
a troubled mind
now a single fleeting thought
with no place to land
the path is narrow
and the journey is far
taking a lifetime or more
to reach any sort
of conclusion
whether hallowed
or simply hallucinogenic
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
stepping back into the void
where all the answers
are laid out in plain sight
where a constant source
of divining light
beckons you to return to that
from which you came
but only when the time
is absolutely right
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
birds in flight
mechanical wings
and roaring sounds
leaving those grounded below
looking skyward & disbelieving
at their majestic maneuvering
their innate desire
to shock & awe
january two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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