poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “homelessness”

the house of displaced poetry

it’s not easy finding inspiration
on low visibility nights
so you just move on from
one thought to the next
hoping to find a place to call home

without a charge nights are lonelier
inner city sky void of lights
artificial ones hard to see
thanks to cold wintry mix
forcing shelters to exceed capacity

I’ve lived through this odyssey before
pocket book of poetry
pressed against my heart
three or four layers deep
every single word still very much alive

january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

precious declarations

I don’t belong here in this place where ordinary men
walk beside bearded men on a mission
to save the world from unrighteousness

I emptied my pockets
to show them I had nothing to offer
and then I pointed to a vaulted door
where I said the world’s fortune can be found
as long as they can handwrite a note
and strap themselves with explosives

down the street they imploded a highrise
and now once extraordinary humans crawl on
hands and knees searching through the rubble
for something that isn’t there

most days I just sit on a park bench
and marvel at the keys I’ve collected
showing my shadowless friends
how this one used to start my car
how this one once lowered the drawbridge
and how this one (in conjunction with the guard key)
unlocks a strongbox safekeeping the world’s
most precious declarations

november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

invisible in the city

getting lost is good for the ego
especially when deep in meditation
where there is no place to hide

stumbling down the sidewalk
the shopping cart I push
keeps me from falling over

alleyways are always darkest
during the brightest of days
when eyes are shut tight
and I can barely see my breath

I feed birds living on high wires
and encourage city weeds
growing between the cracks

having answered to many names
I am content with the unknown
that is certain to befall us all

september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

shelter in the city

an old top hat tumbles
down an urban alleyway
one gray wintry night
a single boot and smile
stopping it in its tracks

held beneath a streetlamp
scratches appear in the
faded charcoal felt
each crooked line a story
in and of itself

silvery lining holds imaginary
tales of happenstance
and midnight waltzes
murmuring like a seashell
untouched for centuries

gloveless fingers slide across
bent brim collecting
snowflakes and glances from
all the homeless eyes
seeking cover for the night

february two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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