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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “madmen”

28 Feb 2023
2 Comments

same as the old boss


the weather outside is frightful
like political destruction
taking out pristinely bountiful fields
& architecturally stunning cities

unheard of humans stirring up
a boiling pot of take this
machine gun tornadoes
nuclear-powered hurricanes
trigger finger earthquakes

destroy & rebuild
displace & replace
mass murders
mass graves
what kind of economy is this
what kind of human history is this
to keep handing down





february two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , ,
18 Aug 2019
5 Comments

many a madman


the war rages on but there’s no telling
which side is winning
no telling precisely who’s the enemy

I’m too old to fight I tell the tin soldier
glued atop my dashboard
attempting to persuade me
to uncover my weapons
buried beneath the floorboards

I tell him I’ve long abandoned my post
and refuse to fight for anyone but me
ditching the ideals of many a madman
instead giving chase to a setting sun
slowly fading into pacified waves




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , ,
23 Sep 2017
4 Comments

madmen and gravediggers


while giant sleeps talking heads
project his awakening
questioning las vegas odds telling the world
it’s not going to be anytime soon

meanwhile there are no magic fixes
for natural and manmade injustices
dished out wickedly and
allegedly randomly
broadcasted real-time ad nauseum

and so it seems the world is ruled
by madmen and gravediggers
feeding off their own gruesome stories
daring the world to take them out
one sleeping giant at a time





september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
17 Mar 2013
6 Comments

only madmen shoot at the moon


in the middle of the afternoon
the lights went out in the city
and all the people
filed out into the street from the skyscrapers
and candy stores
and barber shops
and taverns
quiet as kindergarteners on a fire drill

it was like the calm before the storm
as the full moon
performed its magic
only this time
as it slowly penetrated into the light
it was shot down
by a thousand arrows
launched from within the earth



march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , , , ,

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