She can do anything at all
Have anything she pleases
—Chris Cornell
there’s all this talk
about simplicity & minimalism
reducing if not eliminating
mishaps & miscues
shedding thoughts of excess
and gaining intellectual insights
for no other reason
than to let the world know
that she can’t be changed
may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I am not in a position
to perjure myself
I quietly retreat into
the comfort of shadows
after having been pointed at
I’ve begun to tackle
minimalism
learning how not to think
and care less
I’ve been pointed at
and accused
of doing nothing
guilty as charged they say
my sentence haphazard
and very much unfitting
february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m sure I must declutter my space
before unburdening my mind
there are four walls closing in
I quickly turn my arms and legs
into a human X
soon enough finding myself
stopping them in their tracks
tenements are collapsing
thanks to mother earth
[and other powers that be]
displacing and relocating
those without resources
the redistribution of wealth
virtually unchanged
and what was once my property
no longer belongs to me
call it imminent domain
or call it voluntary
the revolution continues
july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this space is too much
it’s outgrown me
and unless I start leasing some of it out
to collegians or critters or such
I’m afraid it may do me in
sometimes the spaciousness
overwhelms me
and I find myself needing to get away
so I slip on my walking boots
hightail it to the nearest nature trail
while I’m away I sort things through
reconciling every single detail
needing to be minimized
my mind slowly becoming sharper
the longer I stay away
april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’ve been keeping my thoughts
to the slightest of late
hoping to quiet my outer space
while improving the blood flow
giving my inner self a break
from all the distractions
coming at me from all directions
I keep waiting on the chance
for the sun to sing me a new song
one allowing my mind
to retreat into relative ease
keeping my intentions at bay
and my heart center
beating at a bare minimum
march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
everywhere in the house
there are bits and pieces
left here and there by nearly anyone
needle and thread and triple a battery
nickel and dime and gnarly tennis ball
none of which belong to me
trophies and knickknacks and
vinyl records in various sizes
displayed on shelves
have no meaning in my life
people come picking up things
dropping things off as they go
buying and lifting and regifting
never saying one word
though my calculations are unscientific
I’ve reason to believe my possessions
(which aren’t my possessions)
will be next to nothing
anytime soon
june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
one by one they left this place
a metaphorical mess
and I was left all alone
to my many devices
certain I could figure out a way
to clean things up
the morning light arrives
hours after I first stirred
shuffling my feet
to the rhythm of a fancy beat
repeating a little ditty
I recall singing in my dream
windows are everywhere
and in the dark I find each one
lifting the storms
and bringing in fresh air
whether it be cool or warm
or whispering silence
sitting at the kitchen counter
I am taken to places
I’ve not yet seen
a ripened orange in my hand
magically unpeeling itself
before my very own eyes
may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 