Alone in the dark
the American orphan
escapes with eyes wide
into never ending amusement.
Traveling without moving
the orphan sails into hyperspace
and past make-believe stars
in search of a twisted Disney World.
With no place to call home
the American orphan
reaches beyond
present day reality
bypassing suffering at home
and half a world away.
february, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Plants thrive incredibly
inside their shack.
Without money
education
opportunity
they defy logic.
Is it magic
or are the cultivators
blessed?
How does such a model
of poverty
get by with just botany?
They say it’s a matter
of relativity.
The neighbors
ashamed
of the eyesore
still marvel at their craft.
nineteen eighty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we had met it seems ages ago
at a time when no one knew
how to plant corn or make bread
back then days were upside down
and the moon was locked
in its place: a perfect excuse
to exaggerate without consequence
and pretend logic never existed
as time passed many faces rotated
around the clock
some memorable
some forgotten
some forever fixed in consciousness
without any particular reason
the alternative path rarely presented itself
until one night in the future
the moon beamed a smile
and there we stood face to face
august two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
This blank white page
is about to be changed
is about to be creased
and bent in ways
never before imagined.
At the mercy
of folds and reversals
this piece of paper
takes on various shapes
such as triangles and trapezoids
and quadrilaterals
in the end resembling
some sort of
prehistoric creature
with bad intentions.
february two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
He entered the house where decades ago he slept in a crib
in one of four bedrooms. Once inside a curious sense of loss
breathed throughout the rooms void of knickknacks and heirlooms.
A flurry of past and present images projected onto the walls
as memories both vague and succinct darted here and there.
In the kitchen the refrigerator exhaled and ice hit the empty tray.
Bending on one knee he reached his arm and unplugged the unit,
a slight emission emanating a smell much like Marlboro Light.
january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
The cat roams the house
like it owns the place
talking to humans only
when hungry or wanting
a door open
She can be found
where the sun shines
like on a window sill
or in complete darkness
like a closet
depending upon her mood
She makes few friends
and is absolutely in love
with the woman of the house
which is sometimes her
Even now I’m not sure
why I ever give her
the time of day
or her very own poem
january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Man.
We contempt and condemn
compromise and concede
ridicule and joke with
and otherwise
turn a blind eye
to the fact
we have no proof
the roller coaster ride
outside the Earth’s orbit
is meant for our kind.
january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
This trail used to go deep
into the woods
where trees grew twenty stories tall
and wept at night
when the wind blew just right.
Exactly half-way in
a circular fire pit made of round stones
and built by natives
brought order and clarity
inside this forgotten place.
Whenever I lose sight
or long to reminisce
I close my eyes and dream
of the Indian Trail
I miss so much.
december two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Forgotten allusions
conjured at night
reappear when least expected
and make our lives
a little more interesting
like who we really are
or how we could be
Remembered dreams
either delight or haunt us
it is their inconsistency
or congruency
which lead us to accept
or pretend
not to live with them
nineteen ninety-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Whispers could be heard
Beneath the leaves
The ones fallen seasons ago
When there was no reason
To believe time would ever end
Softly worded thoughts
Seemed to travel close to home
Yet when trying to pinpoint
The source it became clear
It was something universal
Out of disharmony beautiful
Music seemingly appeared
Played by angels pretending
To be popular nestled
Comfortably in the backyard
On a cool autumn evening
march, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
cows in line
chewing the fat
talk about their day
without a care
in the world
kids in bus
ride out of town
bonafide field trip
learn a bunch
at the farm
lunch at noon
golden arches
where kids and cows
eat and teach
respectively
december, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
walking in i felt a presence
had just left
leaving behind a draft
coming from the return vent
a lone light shone
above the kitchen sink
highlighting the drip
that hadn’t been fixed for days
i thought i might find
a note on the counter
next to sunday’s newspaper
instead found a grocery list
along with a few coupons
the cat sauntered on the tile
and rubbed up against my ankle
sounding off in a bluesy way
somehow knowing
change was here to stay
december, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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