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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

02 Feb 2017
7 Comments

forgotten fragments inside virtual minefields


do you even know anymore
exactly who you are
or do parts of you disappear
or change into something else
entirely
day after day after day

there was a time
when life wasn’t too complicated
but those days are long gone
and you are left wondering
who is pushing what buttons
and when for god’s sake is it going
to be your turn

people arrive and move on in your life
like clockwork
sometimes they reappear years later
and you are left wondering
what that is all about
and just like clockwork
those in power change hands
and the wars already in motion
suddenly change course
while others begin out of nothing

and if you stick around long enough
you will see friends become enemies
only to become friends again

but wars don’t seem to bother you
but obviously they bother those
thrown in the crossfire
destined to feel the pain you can
no longer feel
sitting somewhere in the dark
motionless
pondering mundane questions
about your mundane life
about those little pieces
that used to belong to you
but have disappeared
or changed into something else
entirely



february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
31 Jan 2017
2 Comments

(forty-five seconds ‘til sunset)


there were birthday bashes
and wedding plans
happy anniversaries
and simple cocktail parties

(released from the atmosphere
sounds of near sonic speeds
accelerate)

there were candles burning
and balloons suspended on the ceiling
teenagers smoking secretly
and babies stirring in bassinets

(precise targets become isolated and
confirmed via encrypted
airwaves)

children in paper hats chase tails
and girls in summer dresses walk on by
there were flowers abloom in the garden
and water fountains making rainbows

(suddenly a fiery crash
turned into an expanding billowy shroud
erasing all of reality in specific vicinities
instantly)



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
29 Jan 2017
2 Comments

letting sleeping dogs lie


sleeping dogs twitch and simmer
growling in their dreams
guarding gates leading to salvation

this promised land no longer
glows with hope
its torch once a welcoming beacon
burns violently
out of control winds
swirling in a harbor of hate

sleeping dogs shake violently
unleashing chokeholds
exposing incisors and canines
keeping freedoms at bay
promising to tear into the fabric
of a once selfless nation

sleeping dogs twitch and simmer
growling in their dreams
guarding gates leading to salvation



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
28 Jan 2017
10 Comments

reminiscing


it’s not too late
this night of the living
awaken and sing
your lonely songs

trees like old men
bent over and supported
by crooked canes
look they say
they are just like me
we are one in the same

there is comfort knowing
we may have been down
this road before
hand in hand like
old lovers reunited
recaptured by the light

day turns into night
the songs begin again
sung by nightingales
aspiring to be angels



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, Poetry and tagged , , ,
24 Jan 2017
2 Comments

feeding time in the stable


the horses are mind readers and can sense
your footfalls hitting concrete steps
from over fifty yards away

though they’ve been fed they’ll need
another meal somewhere down the line
in between new hired hand
hauling empty pails
up thirty-three steps seven times a day

the trails are sloppy from the january thaw
but the horses are quite content
staying put for the foreseeable future
and reminiscing about longer days
about a scoop of grain and two flakes of hay



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
22 Jan 2017
22 Comments

uncle sam is no benevolent king


there is no royalty in america
perhaps that is what we are missing
a figurehead family that occasionally
admonishes its government
whenever it goes astray

with royalty in america
ordinary children would have
royal offspring to relate to and admire
watching them grow up and
learning from their mistakes
instead of following the likes of
movie stars and overpaid athletes
and career politicians whose
best interests rarely align
with their own constituents

but alas here in america
all we have are american baseball
american football
american cinema
american pie (and chevrolet)
oh yes
all we have are presidents
who come and go
while the machinery behind the scenes
continues to grease that which none of us
can truly ever change



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
20 Jan 2017
2 Comments

the number inside the number


I chased this little ball around
for a few hours
maybe days
and it never really dawned on me
that I should be doing anything else

I daydreamed in this place
with no time on the walls
with no time outside the many windows
where hills turned into a thin line
blending greens into blues into reds

I used to think that rainbows
have no end
but it was obvious as I wandered
from room to room
my thinking had been backward

Every day I tore off a new number
from a pad glued to the wall
and each day the number was the same
or at least I used to always
think that was the case

you got it all wrong
someone said from afar
it’s not the number that counts
but the number inside the number
that is if you can figure it out

And so I pondered the idea
and eventually solved the number
inside the number
but once I did I was taken away
to a smaller place without time



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
18 Jan 2017
2 Comments

kansas city blues


sky big and cloudless
I count the days of sobriety

looking down the track
all I see are sixes
rolling on down the line

paper hat stuffed in back pocket
patterned like salt and pepper
sporting paper suit and
folding paper planes
riding atop the dream train

kansas city’s but a night
or two away
its lights and sounds
pulsating in my veins



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
16 Jan 2017
8 Comments

replacement parts


the plug on the shower drain
shuts just fine but
won’t stay open all the way

I bend over and push the
lever down but it eases back up
at best open a quarter of the way

I tell myself the mechanism
inside is old and simply
needs replacing

the puddle at my feet
grows larger by the minute
and while I stand there
scraping off an old layer of skin
I tell myself all it needs
is a little ball and chain



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
14 Jan 2017
7 Comments

shadows like black masses


canopy of trees protective yet penetrable
all night rains enriching the underworld

three or four children noisily passed by
and I turned from one side to the other
as they placed stone markers near my feet

I heard one say this place should be
buried in snow
which of course made me laugh
(if only that were possible)

they continued to arrange the markers
until they were satisfied with the pattern

little did they know that their ritual
awakened an age-old spirit
and as I rose from the earth into the misty air
all they could do was run and scream



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
11 Jan 2017
9 Comments

more of the same


she was frying bacon
like it was going out of style
and once the aroma woke me
I quickly found some shorts
and hurried down the stairs

winds blew wickedly outside
but you could hardly tell
kitchen radio blasting rock music
silencing all the backyard chimes
composing their own scores

what’s the matter she asked
did you think I was going
to burn down the place
or did I make you ravenously
hungry for more of the same



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
09 Jan 2017
6 Comments

pacifying ancient waves


it’s getting late
midwinter
the cold more than snow
wearing on me
like the moon
weighs on the ocean

the gods tell me
life is long
but there’ll be no spring
so I accept
the premise
and shift my focus

southern sun sings
lullabies
shushing darkened clouds
transforming
extreme thoughts
into peaceful waves



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
07 Jan 2017
4 Comments

accepting the air we breathe


the remedy is closer
than you think
though it seems to pass you by
undetected like an unseen
seductive glance

your god is a jealous one
though you’ve learned to accept that
needlessly questioning
her inconsistent suggestions

it would do you well to consider
the road less traveled
next time you set off on foot
clearing the mind
and patiently engaged
for the answer lies
somewhere in the wind



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
05 Jan 2017
4 Comments

look out for that root


it’s awful lonely in this box
but the beauty of it is
you can hear everything

the first thing I’m gonna do
when I break out
is move that hazelnut bush
away from the fence

roots seem to all ball up
and intermingle endlessly
when they got no place to go
but thanks to the spade
nothing ever stays
quite the same
from this season to the next



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
04 Jan 2017
6 Comments

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

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
02 Jan 2017
9 Comments

taken to a nearby hospital


the city was on fire
and I was like a lost lamb
roaming past identical houses
hoping the next turn opens up
to a countryside I once knew by heart

they say the nightlife is the best here
where the most beautiful people gathered
to forget the past

but then it was gone in a flash
like a trick of the mind
there you see it
there you don’t
limbs gyrating like an egyptian
eyes mesmerized
believing just about anything

there was a man with a staff
crying out in the city center
where the river divided the land
and though I was perfectly lost
I heard him clearly above the
sirens and screams and
deadly detonations



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

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