oh glorious night settle into darkness
and let me tell thee whom I give my life
I belong neither to sky above nor sea below
and from all accounts was burst forth from
scorpius some thirty-three light years ago
though my days on earth have been counted
on one thousand and one hands
it is a far cry to say this was ever my home
for the glory of goodness lives not here
but rather in a place and time that knows no end
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she bent over and whispered into my ear
and I heard every single word she said
but I did not move and barely breathed
it was as if I was trapped in a daydream
and every single person I ever knew
walked past me as I lay dying
there was so much work left to be done
unfinished landscapes and hidden rainbows
manicures and photographs
dusty bookshelves and unlit candles
holograms and talismans dangled before me
like a mobile swaying above a bassinet
and then I realized this was not a dream
but rather I was being drawn
back inside of her
june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
so I hear everything happens for a reason
which certainly includes my birth
a byproduct of an irish girl
and a self-determined misunderstood man
sure I got kicked around
but that was for my own good
degraded and humiliated and put in place
for no other reason than to be reminded
exactly who was in charge
but as the bible says a man must leave his mother
and cling to his dreams
but my dreams were awkwardly inconsistent
and so I ran away on god’s command
and became a soldier child
joining the ranks of the finest of misfits
who learn to forget they ever had a past
and learn to kill without thinking or feeling
out on the fringes there is no need
for marlboros or whiskey or california weed
there is only the desire to survive
by sipping on desert spring water
and feasting on exotic butterflies
and if you are fortunate enough
to die a violent death
there is an even better chance
you will find yourself adorned within
a field of the brightest wildflowers
december two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the first freeze came overnight
like a woman’s hard slap
on an unwashed face
but when the sun came up
unopposed
I knew it was going to be
a good day
I imagined little ones running ‘round
chattering like robins competing
to be heard
gathering resiny pine cones into
yellow buckets
stored in the garage as
dead-of-winter kindling
meanwhile atop the hill
I move about on hands and knees
digging up and dividing bulbs
replanting the baby ones
giving myself plenty of reasons
to make it through
another Iowa winter
october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
these fears inside I lay to rest
as setting sun bows and
curtsies one final time
I’m off to chase grander stars
hosting brighter moons
orbiting other oceans
sent on my merry way
accidentally
a victim so it seems
partially of my own accord
there are no sad marches
no guns to be fired
no motorcycle escorts
no victory day parades
there are no flowers or polaroids
or guestbooks or folded flags
no children sniffling
or women weeping
from now on the future
is my present
and whatever good I left behind
would one day become
a necessary ingredient
to grow the shadiest of trees
january two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she survived the dark forest
with unimaginable courage
her recovery spectacular
though the past is incomplete
its mysteries will slowly dissolve
replaced by translucency
according to testimony of others
she is here for good reasons and
destined to do something special
september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
amid dark winter nights
I lay out glorious plans
to conquer the seed
the wind and the rain
the whiteness of the world
inspires me to envision
perfect days where irises
bloom under moonlight
sacred revolutions seem
as remote as paradise
testing my patience
from far away places
january two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she spoke with forked tongue
but I understood
every word she said
she said I had been dead
for three days
before resurrecting
my consciousness
back wandering the earth
I was sent searching
for a flower yet to be born
strolling beside a copse
instinctively I stopped
and squatted and became
mesmerizingly lost
as the glass petals
slowly unfolded into
another world
october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I hunker down in a hawkish grotto
where nobody can find my prize
where the light of day
seems a light year away
and hound dogs
are just a figment of my imagination
there is plenty of food for thought
and sweet nectar can be tapped
from these ancient walls
measuring ten stories tall
adorned with objects
painted on throughout the centuries
exiled into this self-imposed solitude
I am at peace with my new mission
guarding the evils
locked inside this silo
hoping and praying
the world lives beyond its darkest days
april two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the leaf once dreamed
of becoming a feather
and wished one day
to fall with grace
she imagined a child
uncovered her brilliance
and saved her forever
between two pages
displaced in darkness
for decades on end
she prayed for light
and rediscovery
april two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
adrift on a raft
with no land in sight
you lie back
and make friends
with a setting sun
lost in dreams
the bulging moon
wrecks havoc
on brainwaves
regenerating
distant stars
seek rolling waves
tossing you
into a whirlpool
of endless light
march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the flight across endless waves
remains forever lost
the passengers abandoning time
in a downward spiral
their minds suspended
in horrifically incoherent thoughts
as an oceanic escape hatch welcomes
their translucent deliverance
into an alien world
march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
