jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “children”

counting bodies like sheep


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

children without smartphones


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

disappearing act


they sat in a circle
boy girl
boy girl
boy girl
making up a story
one sentence at a time
a story about a stickman
made out of salty pretzels
wearing a white paper hat
and strutting around
outside the ring
twirling a magician’s cane
and making each one disappear
with a simple tap of their crowns


april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Lemonade Stand


Outside Damascus on a Sunday
morning small hands press
ripened lemons recently
arrived from Istanbul

Years earlier there would be
no need for imports
and those lemonade stands
operated by the most beautiful
children of the world
exist only in memory



august two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

promising young stars


he was seriously injured on the playing field
aired on prime-time television last night
the announcer commenting how
the promising young man may
never suit up again

if only those innocent children worldwide
could be so lucky
those massacred by rockets or knives
or handguns or anything else heartless
cowards can get their bloody hands on



august two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

as seen through innocent eyes


there were dancers in the skies
and songsters in the trees
gentle breezes crossed their minds
casting shadows creeping deep

swollen clouds darkened the pond
scattering notes upon the sheet
flying fish breached the surface
grasping for truths unseen

wildflowers earnestly gathered
produces lively waxing smiles
a child’s hand but a crystal vase
clenching secrets worth their while



july two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

children of the stars


children played in the sand
building empires bound to fail
if not by the morning rain
then by a bloated gibbous
sinking into the sea

they boarded a starship
and set sail into the unknown
praying to their gods
for divine guidance
during years of hardship

starting anew in an alien world
they gravitate back
where sand meets the sea
where sweet memories linger
in unfamiliar air
their curious children learning
to build their own castles



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

men dressed in red


left in the shadows of her siblings
she fell fast asleep in the back seat of daddy’s suv
out of sight and out of mind

the very idea of tomorrow never
entered her most wildest of dreams as she breathed
the shallowest baby breaths

locked inside this man-made trap
a busy world revolves around her curiosities
her arms reaching for the sky

focused on a happy ending
she wills the glass to break into million of pieces
men dressed in red rehearsing
to set her free



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

angels of mercy


birds of all nations storm
war-torn suburbia
switchblades and derringers
concealed under wing
blanketing rooftops and lining live wires
waiting patiently for night to fall

predawn fog smothers the moon
and silences the stars
cloaking angels of mercy
and their effortless wings
zeroing in on and sweeping away
newly orphaned refugees


november two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

none of this land is ours


we climbed the hill in laughter
losing our lunch boxes along the way
certain we’d be able to
find them on the way down

once on top we jumped at
pretend stars shining so bright
shouting into funneled hands
for the gods to strike us down

imagining owning all the hills
as far as the eye could see
the bad guys appeared out of thin air
and sent us tumbling
all the way back down


october two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

games children play


I listened for the past
but found only this noisy place
littered with half-drunken moments
and thunderstorms
so boisterous
we were forced to hide
under the bed with earbuds
and electronic coloring books

I listened for the past
turned knobs on an etch-a-sketch
producing a frequency
revisiting
black light images
dissolving into channels
of jagged lines weaving baskets
and a cat’s cradle

I listened for the past
by focusing on a spirit
reassuredly haunting and
beautifully
invisible
hiding behind the maple
waiting for the oxen to be called
to free her people



july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

don’t let the clowns scare you


in the clouds the clowns
perform with their balloons
and wacky flowers
and superlative feet
making the children laugh and cry
leaving them wondering
why this world
is such a mysterious place

in the cloud memories
are stored so the children
can recall those days
of carelessness and glee
before forced into figuring out
how the clowns managed to
make this world
seemingly unforgettable



july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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