The Patsy
For whatever reason
they shot the messenger
[yet again]
this time his dying words
proclaiming
he wasn’t the real deal
but merely a patsy
march two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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poetry by j matthew waters
Archive for the tag “power”
old-school reality
the reckoning has returned
gnawing away noisily
at lies & truths
like crows on a carcass
coming & going & returning
for as long as it takes
before becoming nothing more
than a past idea
an overflow of dying thoughts
replaced by lessons
in obedience
—the beginnings of a
new kind of old-school reality
january two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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Leviathan
Once we put snow tires
on the old beat-up Cadillac
she suddenly turned into a Leviathan
tearing through the elevated city
january two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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megalomania
small hands & barely a heartbeat
in fact if you went searching with a knife
you’d be hard pressed at finding the source
your maker is the same as mine
though by your arrogance you’ve evolved
into something much less than jesus or elvis
to embrace your false bravados
keeps mankind striding one step forward
only to tumble backwards into your confusion
may two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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the misinformants
Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.
Albert Einstein
the information age
hasn’t enlightened the collective mind
having changed little what transpires
on a spinning silver-blue jewel
birds & bees carry on with their
multitude of purposes
actors performing on stage &
the silver screen
wild horses yet incapable
of dragging mick jagger away
rather it may be accelerating
the spread of hatred & contempt
fueled by talking fools
who feed the masses their very own
version of fire & brimstone
january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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the road to empire
lies & deceit
were coded into our DNA
regardless of race or religion
or location on this planet
armies are built
in such ways
the manipulation of ordinary men
for the good of the order
for the safety of a people
repetition is but an iteration
of the entire repertoire
a treasure chest of ammunition
a bag full of tricks
a secret weapon behind the curtain
the last mile
is the bloodiest
a necessary evil if you will
the final confrontation ushering in
an empire of the third kind
november two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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Multitasking Conqueror
I was sitting in this Internet Café
that place everyone said
you couldn’t get a seat
I had thought I had accomplished
some meaningful feat
but turns out was a nonevent in the
grand scheme of things
Internet exposes me first hand
horrors of natural disasters and war
of poverty and unspeakable atrocities
the great god himself looking overhead
neither condoning nor condemning
but positively commandeering the
power to my laptop
october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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the magic of the magic wand
I’ve always kept the magic wand
under my bed
the one I lifted from the magician
at the TV station when I was
five years old
it was my first trick
I snatched it when all the kids
shuffled their feet forward
in single-file fashion
awaiting like ants on fire
to shake hands with the
man of the hour
I slipped it inside my pant leg
and never looked back
never told one soul
selfishly I kept the magic
of the magic wand to myself
once upon a time on a cloudy day
I wandered into an open field
pointing the wand high into the air
soon I guided the birds of the sky
as best I could
orchestrating their climbs and falls
their motionless glides
over the years I came to understand
the potential of its powers
and it frightened me
for decades I kept her
in darkness
imagining how she must be thriving
storing up energy
put out by endless dark matter
amassing a lethal arsenal of old
but new tricks dying to be shown
march two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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