poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “free verse”

crossing nontransferable territory

you could hear bad moon rising
coming from the other room
the music somewhat muffled
fogerty’s voice unmistakable

stepping outside
it was pretty much the same
excluding the music and that
unmistakable voice
transitioning into inner nonsense

at the next stop
glass tri-fold doors open
exposing old men sitting on
metal benches
stitching together wounds
inflicted half a world away

speakers on light poles
suddenly become charged
casting shadows and
sounding alarms disguised
as folk rock from the sixties

trading wheels for wings
up up and away you go
defeating gravity and
orbiting unfamiliar rhythms
bursting above the clouds

february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

charting the free verse sky

those stars we used to wish upon
the ones first appearing in the twilight
or the ones falling from the
sky while sitting on the front porch step
where have they gone
now when you need them the most

sometimes I think of a certain star
that shined so bright it had no choice
but to crash and burn in some
remote forest you’ve never heard

those are the kinds of stars I miss the most

this universe is nothing but a free verse
poem with a little sizzle and endless syllables
spherically rotating around your ever
expanding mind
your inner child
charting the course of events
of every single moving object

december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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