fool me twice shame on me
too black or too white
it’s [sadly] what this world
has been about for far too long
what have we become
incapable of coming close
to honoring the easiest of pledges
forgive me lord for I have sinned
for having believed
I possessed another [human being]
as a simple piece of property
october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
we can’t ever forget hate
it’s tattooed on our biceps
trademarked on baseball bats
and army issued khaki pants
we walk around with grudges
taped on our faces like some
splintered biblical family that never
went to church on sundays
nor practiced what they preached
real estate is abundantly spacious
once you are dead and gone
catapulted into the farthest
reaches of the unknown
but in the meantime
we treat it like some precious ring
nobody in this world
deserves to possess
february two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
There is an area in my backyard
Where grass used to grow,
Where farmers and native Americans
Both understood and disagreed
The meaning of owning property.
A grove of ageless, desperate trees
Grow wild beyond my backyard.
At the edge terraced walls and stone steps
complement the rolling hill.
Nobody would guess how a struggle
Once ensued there, one lasting three days.
Sometimes it rains so hard it blocks
The sunroom windows.
It is then you should venture out
And climb the steps to where the perennials
Grow so well, and see how the soil turns red.
march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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