jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “hatred”

involuntary reactions


the birds and the tigers
the polar bears
and the butterflies
they do not hate
no they do not hate

they may need to defend themselves
through violence or fleeing
but it is out of necessity that they
protect themselves selfishly

they may not understand
the world around them
like you or me
(or perhaps they understand it perfectly)
and while they may not think
before they act (like we are able to do)
they certainly never hate
no they never do

interestingly enough
they may react to the bulbous moon
just like me and you
only they do not make it an excuse
to hate for hatred’s sake
like too many of us often do



november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

fighting over rings and things


we can’t ever forget hate
it’s tattooed on our biceps
trademarked on baseball bats
and army issued khaki pants

we walk around with grudges
taped on our faces like some
splintered biblical family that never
went to church on sundays
nor practiced what they preached

real estate is abundantly spacious
once you are dead and gone
catapulted into the farthest
reaches of the unknown
but in the meantime
we treat it like some precious ring
nobody in this world
deserves to possess


february two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I know it when I see it


your desire for beauty
is lost
in your bouts of hatred for anything
you can’t comprehend
or attempt to understand
forcing yourself
to react uncontrollably instead of
pausing for reflective thought

I wished I had never taken you
that day they forced you
out of the museum
your legs kicking
and arms flailing
repeatedly shouting that picasso
was nothing but a chauvinistic pig


february two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

where white flags sail high


we tested the water
by shooting bullets at it
then crossed to the
other side without missing
a beat

bullets never scare me
it’s the people who own them
that do
the ones who spend their
weekends at the shooting range
or the gamers club
or any dungeon of a basement
where m is for murder and
nothing else matters
where killing sprees can last
for hours on end

now that we made it
to the other side
to a place without war games
real or imagined
there was no reason
to remain on high alert
and with gratitude
we surrendered our arms



september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the system is broken


it’s always been that way
nothing about the past
is fair
and the future
will always be flawed

when you sit down
and wonder if things are moving
in the right direction
something hits you in the face
reminding you
the system always operates
with vital parts missing



october two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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