poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “change”

she’s going to change the world

            She can do anything at all
            Have anything she pleases

                                     —Chris Cornell

there’s all this talk
about simplicity & minimalism
reducing if not eliminating
mishaps & miscues
shedding thoughts of excess
and gaining intellectual insights
for no other reason
than to let the world know
that she can’t be changed

may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

but in reality it never really was

my dream is your reality
revisiting things that could have been
unable to change the course of events
but getting plenty of food for thought
be they apples or bananas
growing abundantly from utility poles
repurposed so many years ago

this place is not what it used to be
but in reality it never really was
& the minute you think
you’ve got everything figured out
something stranger comes marching on
making it perfectly clear
you’re no longer the new kid in town

august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

changing of the guard

winter came early this year
and nobody seemed
to give a damn

instead everyone was frozen
glued to their personal devices
as if they were mere machines

screams coming from across
the pond fell on deaf ears
except for those cheering
from the other side

meanwhile dark-eyed juncos
just got back in town today
while fat-breasted robins
continued to hang out
for some dumb reason

november two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

without a wish

the river ran dry
the year of the drought
collapsing the water table
atop its own legs

the wishing well closed
from lack of moisture
turning back all the day dreamers
hoping for change

september two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Final Walk Through

He entered the house where decades ago he slept in a crib
in one of four bedrooms. Once inside a curious sense of loss
breathed throughout the rooms void of knickknacks and heirlooms.
A flurry of past and present images projected onto the walls
as memories both vague and succinct darted here and there.
In the kitchen the refrigerator exhaled and ice hit the empty tray.
Bending on one knee he reached his arm and unplugged the unit,
a slight emission emanating a smell much like Marlboro Light.


january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

can’t you see

walking in i felt a presence
had just left
leaving behind a draft
coming from the return vent

a lone light shone
above the kitchen sink
highlighting the drip
that hadn’t been fixed for days

i thought i might find
a note on the counter
next to sunday’s newspaper
instead found a grocery list
along with a few coupons

the cat sauntered on the tile
and rubbed up against my ankle
sounding off in a bluesy way
somehow knowing
change was here to stay

december, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: