poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “home”

rapid eye movement

I don’t want to call home anymore
afraid nobody will answer

it just rings and rings and rings
reminding me of the days I lived there
a signal it was safe to sneak in
through the back porch door
quietly tip-toe up the stairs
and into the solitude of my bedroom

from there I can hear the telephone ring
and ring and ring in the other room
I yawn and turn over onto my other side
ignoring everything in the outside world
blue eyes blinking feverishly
reliving days and months and years
in a matter of mere minutes

hours later the southern sun shines
through a second story window
one I’ve known all too well

october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in the first degree

long-term memories persist though
not always as expected
often playing tricks unsuspectingly
occasionally mixing in short-term dreams
always welcoming me back home

what if I got it all wrong and survived
my beating heart
alive and well in the surgeon’s hand
resewn and replanted and restarted
somehow heading back home

images above my head come and go
ordinary or symbolic
making new things out of the past
found guilty of life in the first degree
forever free to go back home

september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

hitching a ride back home

there is magic in the fields
you can feel it
a sort of cosmic energy
forced upon the earth from
unknown galaxies

far away from city lights
alien forces
settle in peaceful places
careful not to disturb
the natural order of things

I didn’t choose to be cast
away from perfection
but I’m thankful to be back
after traveling ninety trillion
and one hundred miles

june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved


she turned the handle and
let herself in
supplanting footsteps
left ages ago
when she could barely breathe

standing tall in the landing
she listened for her
heartbeat barely audible
down the hallway
eyes looking waywardly
as shoulders effortlessly
let go the knapsack

she stepped forward
and further into the past
kicking every single ghost
trying to settle back in

january two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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