mother will never die
and i will always remain the child
falling fast asleep to a sound
repetitiously opposing the light
it’s not like
she didn’t know what was best for me
but purposely stopped feeding me
and released me to the sky
lifting her arms up high
cupped hands slowly open
little wings quick at the chance to fly
absorbing all the outside repetition
memorized from within
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I count the repetitions inside my head
but along the way I always lose track
and I’m forced to start all over again
how these malicious ideas get started
is more or less confounding
but somehow they reach the masses
based on misinformation supplied by
bad actors in faraway places
sometimes I wonder what’s inside
this manipulated head of mine
whether or not it patently belongs to me
or is simply home to countless stars
eternally churning dark matter into light
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
this place is broken
tragically in disrepair
like a neglected heart with
various hairline fractures
it’s easy to smile
if only superficially
telling yourself and others
the sickness will somehow end
local physicians
become increasingly absent
sent off on unknown spacecraft
resurrecting those dying
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you talked about getting out of here
taking everything with you
all the albums you ever heard
stashed inside your mummified body
I was just getting to know you
your voice becoming as familiar as songs
that awaken me on midwinter mornings
I should have been upset
but I also should have seen it coming
should have mentioned (in retrospect)
you just can’t take everything
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
where are you going and how deep
have you delved into this world within a world
it’s like discovering a brand new planet
and the race to get there is extreme
actor after actor catching the next wave
your eyes are not your own but then again
what you see is superficial
appearing courtesy of part fact and part fiction
I keep asking you what is the rush
but you’re unable to hear mere mortal words
faint voices sounding vaguely familiar
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they come out of nowhere
and take your life away
sometimes in a split second
but often involving traumatic
long drawn-out struggles
surprise attacks are an
everyday occurrence here
and in case you haven’t heard
nobody pays too much attention
breaking news spreads afire
circling the globe in nanoseconds
leaving the citizenry cold and numb
unable to speak their piece
lest they be hunted down like a dog
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I’m not going to space without my cat
I told them
and all of sudden they start this foolish
talk about bumping me
It’s a little too late for that don’t you think
I tell them
and a day later
they agreed the cat can go
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
if you are looking for the truth
you will not find it here
here where men in high places
place blame on the innocent
of course such power seldom
lasts past a lifetime (this day and age)
where kings are mere symbols
and queens call on mercenaries
to maintain the working class order
this inner struggle is as old as
hills like white elephants
where deep below the surface
purple hearts struggle to be noticed
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I saw you coming out of church
on a sunday no less
which kind of blew my mind
but who am I to say
what is jaw-dropping
and what is not
your son knew mine
once upon a peaceful time
but now neither know one another
at least not on a plane
that either of us are aware
we were never really friends
but now we are complete strangers
living in a city I always said
was nothing but a small town
dying to be be something it is not
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
self-proclaimed prophet travels
by foot from town to town
preferring the company of commoners
freely imbibing at their
favorite places of nightly worship
passages freely flow by heart
finding favor with patrons
cheering and praising his warnings
vehemently believing
until the hour that the morning comes
signs of the times remain unchanged
he would oft repeat himself
drifting to the next town by moonlight
abstinent and confident
acceptance is but a stone’s throw away
may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s the first of may and all I have left
is this desire to sleep and
witness ruby-throated hummingbirds
feasting upon the flowers
may day two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is a shadow in my periphery
merely a glimmer of my future self
the moment I sense its presence
it reshapes itself and disappears
leaving behind a lingering desire
that which cannot be defined
interrupts my ordinary days with
perfectly placed subliminal messages
I’ve learned to decode and encrypt
slowly making sense of my former life
diligently uncovering its suppressed dreams
little did I know the shadow in my periphery
was nothing but an outcast heart seeking light
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they put me up in the las vegas hilton
I remember it well
it was a monday
I wasn’t going anywhere soon
so I had plenty of time to count all the chips
stacked on the round table in the corner
I tried calling out but all I could hear were
ocean waves coming through the receiver
I took a shower and drank a beer
and ate a small bag of honey roasted peanuts
I opened the door and looked down the hallway
both ways
and though it seemed the coast was clear
I knew I wouldn’t be able to get far
by the time the sun went down I wasn’t sure
exactly where I was
so I called the front desk and they assured me
that yes
I was indeed at the las vegas hilton
I picked up the telephone
and tried calling out again just to let you know
I was extending my stay
but all I could hear were ocean waves
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she stitched and sewed all winter long
meticulously
almost feverishly
covering cork and rubber and yarn with
whatever kind of hide she could find
having promised her boys of summer
the only way they would not play ball
would be due to the most severe
inclement weather
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
It was carnival season and the town
gradually transformed itself
becoming grotesque and queer
and emotionally exhausting
Determined to move forward
Billy and me walk hand in hand
he nursing along a quart of malt liquor
and me drawing on Virginia Slims
By the time we reached the bridge
they had just finished
reenacting a past less distant than
most locals care to admit
Uncertain how I could possibly hold
back the tears
I tell Billy what they did to my people
is unforgettable
unforgivable
Without saying a word
he squeezes my hand tighter
draws me nearer as the
Chickasawhay River shamelessly
snakes by directly below our feet
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
it’s impossible to hear the spoken word
when the rains fall so hard
killing the song
making good intentions just plain wrong
these eyes find light in the strangest places
sitting alone in the dark room
conversing within
making up stories without lies or deceit
walking in broken shoes on crushed stone
I listen for the least sound
signals from the sun
still images of havens inside the wasteland
april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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