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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “Poetry”

Alive and Well in Las Vegas


The King and I sat in a barber shop
on the Las Vegas strip
swapping oft-told stories
and questioning the reasonings
behind failed empires

He explained how his realm reaches
far outside the lines of Clark County
where one-armed bandits
pay homage to sinners
and tax collectors

He spoke with quiet authority
on the decline of principles
and goodwill toward men
using literary devices
to illustrate his finer points

With the sun soon to vanish
in the cool desert air
He tucked his hair up under his hat
and led his sandaled entourage
down the boulevard



december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Winter Blues


butterflies are nothing but
welcomed distractions in a
hurry-up-world
long after the youth of careless
rebellion becomes
netted in routine



december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

building blocks and dreams


we worked the wet sand
into old world castles
restarting aqueducts and
protecting the bridge with
toy soldiers

overnight tides washed
away recent memory
giving way to daybreak
and the innocence of
virgin beaches

starting from scratch
we sawed and
sanded and hammered away
convincing ourselves
things will be different



december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Unrealistic Haiku Expectations


You kept me boxed in you did
With your rules
About long hair and piercings
Telling me what can be visible
And what can’t
With tats and other stuff

I can’t imagine you expect
Such conformity
This day and age
At a time when I should print
Anything I like on Twitter
And not be badly judged

I know you expect endless creativity
In a five seven five set
But you’ll have to forgive me
For stepping out of bounds
Every now and then
With three irregular verses



october two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a poem of possibilities


buried far beneath the earth
in the garden of good and evil
lies dormant the key
to man’s heart

the seedling had failed
to germinate
while the tree of knowledge flourished
thereby leaving man
selfishly singular

it’s been said treasure can be found
somewhere in the cradle of civilization
its hidden secrets
more powerful than the words
of all the enlightened masters
who left this world
dreaming of lasting peace



december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

number nine doesn’t live here


you rarely recall that night
you should have died
yet every time it surfaces
you completely understand
how kissing the world goodbye
is as simple as
landing on your feet

you imagine you were born
a feline with siamese blood
running through your veins
a cool cat who’s been
around the block six or seven
or eight times
but certainly not nine

crouched behind a waning moon
you patiently wait for hope to rise
above the horizon
feeding your mind with
enlightenment
giving you courage to carry on
yet another day



december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

charting the free verse sky


those stars we used to wish upon
the ones first appearing in the twilight
or the ones falling from the
sky while sitting on the front porch step
where have they gone
now when you need them the most

sometimes I think of a certain star
that shined so bright it had no choice
but to crash and burn in some
remote forest you’ve never heard

those are the kinds of stars I miss the most

this universe is nothing but a free verse
poem with a little sizzle and endless syllables
spherically rotating around your ever
expanding mind
your inner child
charting the course of events
of every single moving object



december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sometime before the sun


I awoke violently
as if someone had grabbed my
shoulders and shook me
with all their might

Gasping for breath
as if dying or coming to life
I recall striving to push my imagination
from beneath the surface
out-chasing the nightmare
that is the unborn

Within the darkness
I hushed myself back to sleep
pretending nothing
ever happened to the sun


december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

moving up through the ranks


wounded ant repairs himself
sends himself back into the fray
where he nary has time for loose chit-chat
nor counterproductive influences

there is no home sweet home
just a constant moving forward
last twenty-four hours exposing a dying light
in an ever-changing horizon

punching holes through earth
and wood often lead to nowhere
but when consumed by a billion megabytes
may uncover lasting paradise


december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in search of la niña


we took the long road
to the top of the island
believing by the time we got back
to the ocean
your father would be gone

pausing along the way
we listened to the distant waves
while lying on our backs
nibbling on treats and
pretending the clouds
flew like pink elephants

the rhythm of the water
slowly put us to sleep
our dreams commingling
as your father’s footfalls
echoed ever closer


december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Untitled Document


They told me to sign here
but I refused

I refused to give them my blood
or my urine or my
social security number

Instead I stood in line
this imaginary line
drawn somewhere on the Internet
nobody could reach without possessing
proper credentials

When given a free pass
I knew there was no going back
and my virtual signature was certain
to never have existed


december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lonesome is the night


out of the blue melancholy
wrapped her arms around me
and held me close
whispering sad songs
and wiping away the tears
that formed from the
corners of my mind

she slowly swayed me
encouraging me to hush
painted pictures of the
moon and stars with her
deceiving voice
expressing how precious
and lonesome is the night


december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in and out of reality


I crawled out of my skin
and curled into a ball
allowed the wind to kick me
down an endless winding road

along the way I witnessed
invisible claws dig
deep inside an open field
uncovering ancient treasures

as diamonds gradually
overwhelmed the sky
I unfurled my mind and
surrendered my spirit
to the next reality





november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

inside the safe house


the neighboring kids
amassed their bikes
and wagons and scooters
and any other kind of steel
structure with or without wheels
piling them up across
a southside driveway

they stood behind their
improvised barricade
lifting toy weapons and fists
high into the air
screeching indecipherable
insults at an enemy
hiding behind mere curtains



november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

1984


nobody cares about nineteen
eighty-four anymore

nobody seems to remember
how lovely the wine tasted
nor how the hash under glass
made the world such a
beautiful place

there is no rewinding
there is only nineteen eighty-four
when the world mushroomed
and there were no more
children to be born

some say the final war
brought lasting peace
to this world

but nobody can be sure


november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

keeping it copacetic


you just don’t get it
do you
she says
unwrapping a stick of
frozen butter on the counter

no I don’t
I think to myself
but all I can say out loud is
‘what?’

and don’t give me that
what the fuck are you talking about
face
I don’t wanna see that

I don’t wanna see that either I say

see what she says

that
what the fuck are you talking about
face

very funny
she says
sterling silver knife in hand



november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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