I was dying
in a burning village
—all the while
the seas were raging
the sky was violent
flashing colors from the
crimson spectrum
as if the apocalypse
was at hand
in the dream
I tossed & turned
possibly tumbling inside
the belly of a whale
the morning light
whispered into my ear
saying when I open my eyes
I will have become
a child again
may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
as the world order changes
so does common sense
shifting like tectonic plates
after volcanic explosions
a collective dream of visible air
floats from the ground up
physical particles inevitably
breathed in by man & beast
advances occur on multiple fronts
math & science & nature
spinning inside tunneled conductors
controlled by a golden wand
april 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
sequestered from the noise
I’ve burrowed myself
deep underground
proceeded to build a home
among the rock & critters & roots
day by day the place
becomes more elaborate
having managed to harness
the break of dawn
& manipulate the waxing moon
on the walls I recorded
the art of isolation
a fairly accurate account
of my life & times
before & after the destruction
november two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s like stepping back in time
long before plymouth rock
or the white man’s first encounter
w/native americans
this 12th century castle
was the first of its kind
modeled after nothing but an idea
what it would take to stay alive
you see back then there was
plenty of human ingenuity
artistic accomplishments
& historic achievements
of course what remained
was the insatiable desire to kill
and that spread like wildfire
by way of land & sea & sky
june two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I keep going back in time
destroying what is already gone
fruitless endeavors
involving radioactive matter
nearly always
ending up in the same place
the mind & body
seek their own independence
one of them knowing
of the eventual fail
the other looking forward
to the next dimension
what’s next remains indefinable
but is as certain as the
capital’s destruction
leveled in the year of the rat
only to rise again after
one hundred million deaths
march two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
on the fringes
of poetry & geopolitical
ideologies
suddenly the voices
once repeating
serenity now
are one by one
shut down
do you remember
what january
everything changed
or is that a
made-up thing
created inside a
time capsule
orbiting the sister star
white-haired wizard
weaponizes weather
storms smolder
& smother
in a natural sort of way
bouts of ego
bent on destruction
angel eyes awaiting
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is much to fear
but the thought is fleeting
for there is much to do
such as renaming islands
or teaching children
a new language
forces around the world
gain momentum
destroying anything
in their path
—years later a second wave ensues
[the reconstruction phase]
villages slowly reappearing
vegetation taking root
from the ashes
august two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Once the weather radio started freaking out
all things went to hell in a handbasket
There’s one thing I know about the climate
it’s always in a constant state of flux
After the storms passed we counted
the damages on ledger paper
one for physical
two for mental
and three for extraterrestrial
The mess is becoming a bigger mess
mother nature at war with herself
randomly precise & indiscriminate
hitting targets from any & all directions
whether in the air
or on land
or at sea
may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
for centuries the survivors
of the forgotten world
journeyed to the ancient city
to marvel at the concrete
and glass that once gave rise
to an infallible dream
unable to imagine
such destructive forces
the children picked wildflowers
growing from the ash
waving them in the air
pretending to surrender
january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
after the lights went out
and the snow plows were grounded
the people took their arms
and left for the country
to find fuel for the fire
a decade later and a
generation forsaken
all the little girls turned into mothers
sooner than anyone
could ever have imagined
december two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
he consumed destruction
like it was sweet nectar
went on fifty year binges waging war
like there was no tomorrow
getting high on chaos
before receding into isolation
recuperating and retooling
just to do it all over again
if only his creator had programmed
his instincts differently
reigning in his selfish ways
of wasting resources
and repeatedly recessing
he could have produced
timeless masterpieces
that inspired a lasting peace
september two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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