poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “marionette”

the wandering marionette

expectations continue to dwindle exponentially
and then the sun rises again

what are we doing except exhuming bodies
as if they were black birds
murdered en masse only 10 days ago

people are coming & going
on conveyor belts
some of them alive & some still dying
the workers & the robots
having no idea
where they’re coming from

the shifts are ‘round the clock
nobody is disgruntled because they’re taught
[in their developmental stage]
there is nothing to be disgruntled about
and so while they go about their routines
occasionally someone will ask
why hasn’t time converted to the metric system

everything is constructed & destroyed here
except for the living & the dying
          the baby girl in the trash bin
                    the nomad in the desert
a businessman on a twenty-story ledge
overcome by the promise of eternity
—everything just as it should be
like the wandering marionette
disoriented & obsolete
with nary a stage to perform upon

september two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

building an army of marionettes

and so they bought it all
hook sinker & line
by a man who wanted to be a god
somehow convincing the majority
there are greater days in store
as long as you are strong enough
able to instantly get over your
dead mother & dead grandmother
for the sake of the motherland
and yes but of course as long as
there is history yet to be made

march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the afflicted marionette

I am broken in many places
boxed up & sent back for repairs

what is this place
& why is it so regimented
it’s like I’m proceeding down
an assembling line
flat on my back
eyes darting feverishly
north & south and east & west

put me back in the box I say
if this is all there is I want no part of it
I would rather forever fall asleep
sailing across turquoise seas
& eating amongst the dead

this is a far cry from my former self
turned into an immovable target
once at the mercy of wires & crosses
(propping me up or setting me free)
now hanging in the balance
waiting to draw a card I’ll never see

may two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the wounded marionette

it was hard to see the strings
stuffed inside his rucksack
as he rode the train from one town
to the next
all slumped over and needing
a miracle or two
to bring him back to his former self

they stopped the bleeding
back on the battlefield
stitched him up as best they could
sending him on his merry way
cross bar and all

staring out at the countryside
he went in and
out of consciousness
the landscape as desolate as his thoughts
leading him to wonder if the good doctor
would be able to save
his most precious possessions

june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: