poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “darkness”

uncommon denominator

not everyone can be right so by default
all of us must be wrong

and so by nature we are born imperfect
bound by laws of the land
whether raised by good samaritans
or pack of wolves

leaders come and leaders go
and while few have managed
to make some sort of difference
it is wise to duck and run from the rest
from their abusiveness of the very institutions
having sworn to love and serve

yet there is much light to be found
outside the very door
attempting to keep you in the darkness
indeed it would be a waste
should you chose not open it

october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

down with the darkness

she boarded a passenger
train in philadelphia
red paisley scarf
complementing her emerald eyes
and covering her auburn hair
matching bag in left hand
one-way ticket in right

strolling from car to car
she drifted as if on air
pausing occasionally at an
unoccupied window seat
darting her eyes upward
at the silvery new moon
chasing the midday sun

some ninety minutes later
she found herself transported
outside ocean city
lost in a sea of spectators
cheering nearly hysterically
as they slowly become
engulfed in total darkness

july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Total eclipse of the sun

I awoke in the darkness
and stood motionless
unable to feel my own legs

In the darkness I stood
as if floating on air
my mind fixed on a pain
I could not feel

I imagined there was light
somewhere near
beyond the closed door
or on the other side of a shaded
window slightly cracked

I welcomed the silence
both from without and within
like a tortured creature
wishes death

It was like an explosion had
left my world perfectly still
neither spinning
nor traveling around a light
that for centuries had promised
prosperity to a diverse population

november two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pushing and pulling

it’s so dark I can’t even see my fingers
so cold cannot feel my heart

machines hum along in the white room
giving me fresh air and influencing my dreams

what nobody knows
       is when I’ll be home
or when I’ll be able to say
       I remember everything

(due to atmospheric disturbances
summer never arrived)

crawling through the rubble
my fingertips make rocks sound like glass
rubbing against themselves like butterfly wings

scratching below the surface
I give inspiration to newly awakened lives

june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sometime before the sun

I awoke violently
as if someone had grabbed my
shoulders and shook me
with all their might

Gasping for breath
as if dying or coming to life
I recall striving to push my imagination
from beneath the surface
out-chasing the nightmare
that is the unborn

Within the darkness
I hushed myself back to sleep
pretending nothing
ever happened to the sun

december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sing of sunshine where there is sorrow

there is no sense
in revisiting all the bad things
that may or may not have happened
think of the things yet to come
like the seeds of dahlia
planted in your mind

create and smile and live
the way only you know how
and call forth into your mind
where there is none
and beat back the darkness
with luminescent petals

may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: