this is the summer
the one that never ends
where boys & girls play ball
well into the night
this is the summer
the one made of dreams
where time becomes obsolete
the skies ever bright
this is the summer
the one for all the ages
little legs effortlessly in motion
circling the bases
august two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they were waiting to have a child
until they could afford one
an unlikely proposition
especially during a recession
he would tell stories about being
the only child
while she lamented
of being the youngest of the litter
childhood memories
didn’t appear to have any bearing
with their recent decision-making
or lack thereof
when spring arrived they planted
a grafted apple tree
special-ordered from the nursery
the kind with four varieties
months later the economy improved
the apples ripe for picking
each one given a name
alternating between boy & girl
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this thing called loneliness
trending in the real
and virtual world
striking unsuspectingly
like a snake in the grass
it’s no wonder
mothers are worried
children pleading to stay home
loneliness the new norm
versus learning in school
may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
moon swaying over tidal waves
a dream inside a dream
trees planted in the sand
stretching for the clouds
children of the forest climbing
until they’re no longer seen
man-made machines pounding
on the ocean floor
shaking loose the tree children
sending them falling & tumbling
plunging into the ocean
evolving into something new
january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
All children must go to heaven
Those not making it to school age
Their lives forever young
Faces kept inside lockets
Moments in time frozen
Played over & again
Shadows longer in the winter
Eyes sparkling like distant stars
Smiling like chameleons
Hiding in broad daylight
august two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
anything is possible
how many times have you heard this
much like
the sky’s the limit
but that doesn’t make sense
this day & age
just go ask any child
who may effortlessly tell you
the sky’s only the beginning
especially if you’ve happened
to be gunned down way too young
june two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
first day of first grade
mother drops off son
the former feeling independent
the other apprehensive
but this particular school
does not belong to anyone
save the children
they are the rulemakers
the judges & the jury
the fate of others in their hands
the good & the bad
and all things in between
separating the ugly from the beautiful
always mindful of keeping
the white elephant at bay
december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
if the toymaker had a number
it would be number nine
she would keep it in a locket
always worn near her heart
a reminder to always empty the tank
for the benefit of all the children
october two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
and so we sang the words
as children
seated in a circle & holding hands
[four jacks & a rubber ball
the most recent center of our attention]
each of us starting one after the other
repeating the chorus
time & again
smiling with the belief that life
is truly but a dream
february two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
after show and tell tuesday
comes situation wednesday
where kindergartners take
what they learned from the day before
and apply it to the art of self-defense
there are no rules per se
except that all must participate
to advance the safety of the collective whole
not only within their tiny space
but everywhere near and far
december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they enter this world as children
of the same spirit
learning the laws of the land
and the laws of nature
exploring causality and karma
testing the limits of physicality
touching that which cannot be felt
they’ve been known to walk on water
and fly like the birds of the sky
but in reality they are simply children
born of the same spirit
free to define themselves here on earth
living to learn and learning to die
just like you and me
january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
narrow slashes of daylight
creep along wood floor
filtering in through tall and narrow
opaque windows on either
side of closed front door
outside it’s 99 degrees fahrenheit
all the shades are drawn
gray tiger sprawled out
on same wood floor
conflicted by uncontrollable
desires to chasing butterflies
fan blades rotate circularly
redistributing manufactured air
breathed in by robo-occupants
out of touch with outside world
where hundreds of children go missing
may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
perpetual revolution
a lifelong struggle defined by tiny stories
woven in and out of blankets
crafted in afghanistan
messages fly halfway across the
planet in a matter of mere seconds
complicating efforts of diplomats
struggling to keep up with the flow
you and I can meet on any street
corner on any given day
reaching for something undefinable
something certainly not touchable
one day children will be forced
to teach children the basics
digging and uncovering
discovering and enlightening
true possibilities do exist
and this concept of history
repeating itself for centuries on end
gradually gives way to hope
september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I see her running down the same dream
dressed in white to match her riding horses
locks untamed and slightly afire
tricked into going this way (then that)
ultimately cornered by the eye of the sun
there was nothing left to be done except
bury the dream someone tried to say
that’s laughable they cried in return
for shame
for shame
september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
do not be nervous little ones
the world is not falling apart at the seams
I do not mean to lie but things are not
what they seem (to be)
in fact these happenings may just
be a figment of some lesser god’s
imagination
and those drums coming nearer
gaining ground even while you’re sleeping
what are they even doing here
and how did they earn privilege
to beat upon the children
september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
footote:
loosely based on song of similar
title by A Perfect Circle
A Perfect Circle youtube video
homeless little ones
fill the city square
walking aimlessly and unsupervised
staring into the palms of their hands
slaying pokémon dragons with
whatever imagination
they can get their hands on
august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 