poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “loss”

undeliverable packages

we’re not expecting any fireworks
this year are we
she yells from the other room

(I think she’s talking to someone
on the goddamn phone again)

why in the hell are you asking about
fireworks I yell back
it’s only january for fuck’s sake

but it’s too late
the package has been delivered
and the driver has gotten away

it’s strange how silence
can be so deafening

it’s difficult to fall into a deep sleep
eyes routinely blinking
like an old film projector
telling silent stories

eventually the movie ends
usually in a whimper
and I slowly reach consciousness
only to discover the time of day

it’s four a.m. and
somewhere I hear a mother crying

january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

like those who matter most

water washes away the past
cleanses if you will
like the dirt you once kicked
down dusty fields

sometimes you mixed the dirt
with water
and turned them into clay animals
set them strategically in the open
only to hunt them down in the dead of night
switchblade at your side
the full moon your flashlight

so many years later the rains fell so hard
gushing down the hill
penetrating your fortress walls
filling the boxes
where you stored many other
surreal adventures
untouched for decades

you cried for days
having thought you lost
the imagination of your past
only to remember
what was lost can one day be restored
like the lives of those who matter most

may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the remorseful escort

you did not hear her last cries
trapped inside the carrier case
the confusion in her eyes
penetrating my mind
and weakening my spirit
as I attempted to justify
why the end must be near

as we drove away I wondered
if she really had reached
her ninth and final life
or would the ultimate solution
transport her someplace special
where there is no pain
and love is everlasting

missy kitty
Missy Kitty – Born 1999

twenty-four may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

saint somewhere

the trains have all left
this dusty little town
and I’m left on the trackside
without even a dime
to buy a little more time
as my woman sits in coach
destination saint somewhere

may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how to put into words

blank card unfolds
with pencil in hand
as I sit in silence
waiting for the words

instead I draw
a little lost boy
in pursuit of his soul
in the cherished woods

a network of leaves forbids
the sun from shining
upon the moss-covered floor
as the sounds of the silent march
carry on

the young man calls
into the branches
certain someone above
understands his prayer

april two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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