poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “storm”

inside the eye of the storm

make-believe people ask me
what was I thinking
when everything went down

I just smile like an idiot
having never been blown away
by such a bout of reality

if I was thinking I’d probably
have done things differently
maybe pretend I was a reporter
jotting down some notes
or voice recording objectively
what it was I was witnessing

instead I found myself swirling
inside the eye of the storm
past & present souls gathering
aiding & abetting my inner strength

august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

wishing upon a star

we’d become separated by no fault of our own
unable to remember if it was due to gunfire
or mother nature herself

out back the horses are long gone
having escaped before the doors swung shut
galloping faster than the wind
their hooves barely touching the ground

from what I’ve learned things may never die down
& those stars shining ever brighter
will one night once again be wished upon

all rights reserved
august two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a chance of rain

waiting on a storm that never arrives
anticipating & wanting
a need so strong that when
nothing ever happens
the disappointment weighs heavily

when the storm collapses upon itself
the impending relief is thwarted
leaving you once again
back in the throes of misery
one of which may never go away

the morning sun is heavy
the dewpoint remarkably high
going out into the world is inadvisable
and so you sit quietly
waxing your wings like a damselfly
waiting for the next system to develop

july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

violent was the well lit night

shots were fired overnight
like thunder and lightning
and then the rains fell
two point seven inches in all

young man staggers in
and out of shadows
low-beam street lamp
revealing bullet proof vest

sirens and flashing lights
blend in with nature
weaving through alleys
baby glocks and berettas
systematically revolving around
unrecycled neighborhoods

lights flicker off and on
frightened eyes peeking
through shadeless windows
chalk outlines on sidewalks
washed away before
cleaning crews ever arrive

july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

who’ll stop the charade

there is a storm brewing
simmering in a big black pot
stirred by faceless warlords
pretending life
doesn’t matter much

high winds blow madness
into the next town
precisely honed strikes
wiping out historic deception
as new chief lays down
new laws

war drums beat relentlessly
inside children’s dreams
bringing showers
to the desert and
drought to the streams
turning camels into arks and
temples into zoos

from the beginning we are told
there is no time to write home
there is only more life
and more land
to claim for our own

october two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

never-ending is the night

visions arrive in feverish shapes
testing my sanity
in a darkness protected from a
cold november rain

flashes of restlessness appear
out of no where
reminding me of a dogged past
certain to hound me again

voiceless visitors with a certain
je ne sais quoi
talk me into believing
this night will never end

november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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