what will become of me
on those dark cold nights
not knowing if I’m
sound asleep
or walking on thin air
the air outside is oh so cold
and the wind
oh the wind she is wicked
knocking on my door
at all hours of the night
there is a fine line
between sublime identities
& newfound realities
the kind you are likely to find
crawling toward the light
november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
do you remember me
I was the one who died in his
sleep last night
as I recall you were with me
and I had pleaded
that you slow things down
but we went veering off the path anyway
projected into an orbit
defying quantum mechanics
it wasn’t the first time
I went sailing off into space
never to return
the world below me gradually
becoming smaller
the next one
suddenly
becoming familiar
may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
pretending new moon
shines upon streets of singapore
I am reminded
of candles in window
flashing lights scream across
inner city streets
red and blue and white hot
giving chase inside
some long forgotten dream
bursting open barriers
words make inner sounds
slowly raising my consciousness
at two twenty-two in the morning
unopposed to where I landed
I play out my part in the dark
arms raised
and mouth wide open
cornered in some well-lit alley
january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
paint a pretty picture and play me a ditty
project brand new images inside this
lethargic and melancholic reverie
there are prized creatures to be caught
larger than anything this lake has ever seen
monstrous with fiery eyes and razor-sharp teeth
meandering and beautifully frightful
I’ve harnessed the wind using magical spells
cast upon my newfound partner
a ferocious winged dragon needing direction
together we paint pretty pictures in the skies
and play the most joyful ditties
swooping o’er the lake and taming the serpent
projecting brand new images for all to see
august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I chased this little ball around
for a few hours
maybe days
and it never really dawned on me
that I should be doing anything else
I daydreamed in this place
with no time on the walls
with no time outside the many windows
where hills turned into a thin line
blending greens into blues into reds
I used to think that rainbows
have no end
but it was obvious as I wandered
from room to room
my thinking had been backward
Every day I tore off a new number
from a pad glued to the wall
and each day the number was the same
or at least I used to always
think that was the case
you got it all wrong
someone said from afar
it’s not the number that counts
but the number inside the number
that is if you can figure it out
And so I pondered the idea
and eventually solved the number
inside the number
but once I did I was taken away
to a smaller place without time
january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
a crack in the door
precious light leaks through
a parade marching
cockroaches scurrying
a mad dog sniffing profusely
the crack widens
and so does the mystery
known for its infinite lines
cast by fishermen
sitting on quarter moons
blown off its hinges
door flops like a magic carpet
sailing like a stringless kite
gradually disappearing
past the penultimate light
august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
You sneak in and out of my dreams
like the sleeper catcher that you are
disappearing through star-studded walls
where you count beads on chains
and crawl on hands and knees
Of course I have no choice but to proceed
gathering crumbs along the way
cursing underneath my breath
sniffing and tasting supersonic vapor trails
you left streaming across the universe
Out beyond the planets I skip and stride
drawing pictures by connecting dots
you threw onto a blank canvas
twinkling lights redefining
what was once simply dark matter
The band on my wrist flashes and vibrates
attempting to awaken me hours before
my scheduled flight back home
somewhat smart and mechanically sound
designed to erase a world I knew by heart
november two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
buried far beneath the earth
in the garden of good and evil
lies dormant the key
to man’s heart
the seedling had failed
to germinate
while the tree of knowledge flourished
thereby leaving man
selfishly singular
it’s been said treasure can be found
somewhere in the cradle of civilization
its hidden secrets
more powerful than the words
of all the enlightened masters
who left this world
dreaming of lasting peace
december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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
she spends her days praying
and by night holds your hand
when the stars are touchable
she brought you into her world
and had you entirely expose her
item by item and kiss by kiss
you didn’t know what to think
you just did as she said
and she never did let you rest
in the dark of the morning
you made it back home
safely in your bed
as if nothing ever happened
february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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