the heart & mind
working together bending time
—something artificial intelligence
can’t possibly articulate
on how love never dies
but simply segues
into an alternative reality
april two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is much to fear
the master said to the student
sitting cross legged on the mat
arms at his side
palms opened over his lap
the student sat facing the master
his eyes blinking once
as if to say he understood
but the fact remained
his greatest fear was to be loved
september two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there’s no time
to dwell on the past
oh how the future
arrives too fast
present day lives
project everyday familiarities
such as falling asleep
in your arms
come morning I awaken
to a beautiful smile
whispering above the drizzle
what shall we do today
you laugh
& softly close your eyes
march two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
he’s a photographer & AI artist
roaming the city streets
w/his girl by his side
she likes to walk along the pier
each visit like witnessing the ocean
for the very first time
she’s an artist herself
and a doctor & a dreamer
a purple flower & self-made author
concocting stories she’s swears
are as real as the waves
splashing before her eyes
he takes her by the hand
strolling back toward the plaza
asking her what will it be today
anything she responds
as long as he’s present
the only constant in her mind
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
mahogany skull made for two
handbuilt over a lunar cycle
docked at the river’s edge
crescent moon rises mid-morning
the boat made for two
crossing still waters to intersect
with the satellite
reeling her into the boat
—bringing my love back home
november two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
and she said
we’d never drift apart
not in a million years
and she said
love never leaves the heart
even after death
but if the flowers should fade & wilt
and the angels should fly away
just know I won’t be afraid
as long as you’re near
and she said
there is a place beyond the sun
that never grows old
and she said
it never grows old
october two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
holding hands on a park bench
each looking out toward the river
neither saying a word
as if their thoughts alone
commingled on another plane
birds unseen but plenty verbal
hardly imitating but
participating in the vibration
witnessing & believing in
the power of love
september two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
of course there’s a hidden planet
inside our solar system
most likely the opposite of earth
—red & purple & black & orange
populated by peaceful loving creatures
who go about their business
without polluting the air or water or land
without needing to document
a list of things one shouldn’t do
especially unto others
september two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
sirens going off
like background music
fire or police or ambulance
who the hell knows
we’re upstairs making love
in the middle of the afternoon
afterwards she says
maybe somebody was dying
and I say shit baby
everybody is dying
to me it it sounded like
a wounded dragon
crying in agony until finally
fading into nothingness
you’re crazy she says
as the sunshine leaked through
the slatted blinds
it didn’t sound nothing
like that at all
august two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
how long have you suffered
how long have you lived the dream
the two going hand in hand
how can they ever be separated
you walk a mile in your own shoes
you walk a mile in someone else’s
distinguishing between the two
an impossible proposition
when the heart becomes swollen
when the heart becomes weak
what do you do with your love
before it all goes away
august two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
and so I found a way
to call her
I sixteen
& she a year younger
we made a date
—I swear I was in love
she had sparkles
around her eyes
but when I asked
she said
she didn’t know what I meant
& over time neither did I
july two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m lost inside a rose garden
the one I never promised you
my only preoccupation
now that I’ve become a wanderer
come fall maybe I’ll cut them back
or maybe I’ll turn into a snowbird
giving them the freedom
to fend for themselves
looking at my hands
wrinkled & sore & ever useful
I’m reminded of the reds & yellows
living & dying like clockwork
on occasion one or two held captive
inside my failing heart
june two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream
—Hayley Williams
what is love
but a mesmerizing image
shining from the waters
reaching out
in sound & taste
pulling you deep underneath
where it’s quiet & safe
what is love
but a shadow of a doubt
veiled in the scenery
patiently waiting
a surprise embrace
sweeping you off your feet
& into the unknown
what is love
but a deep-rooted memory
residing in your heart
overly protective
when you are down
rising above the surface
at a moment’s notice
february two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
where do you get your ideas
she once asked me
I didn’t know what to say
so I said nothing
once again she asked
where do you get your ideas
finally I answered
from you my dear
and everything that encircles you
november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
love can blindside you
forcing you to lose control
sometimes hitting hard
like a car accident
often flickering like a light
gaining strength
minute by minute
slowly burning into a torch
at last settling into a
constant glow
yesterday the fire
suddenly ceased to be
the rampant love fully evolved
into something
incomprehensible
sinking below & hovering above
neither physically present
nor otherworldly
perhaps temporarily
someplace in between
may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
isn’t it always a matter of time
before the next big thing
whether cutting edge or horrific
the wait is far from long
isn’t it wild how a glorious idea
can be conjured in solitude
and distributed worldwide
by way of an invisible wire
isn’t it a crazy kind of love
that hits you smack in the face
when looking the other way
leaving you breathless
april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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