poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “story”

the story continues

the story continues
like a child who’s questioning
the reality of death
the story continues
like a child biding time
like the changing wind
moving from one thing to the next
the story continues
like a child looking in the mirror
like a child escaping at will
the story continues
like a child defying
the powers that be

october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pausing to work on a different title

there are plenty of stories yet to tell
won’t you sit down & humor me
won’t you believe in yourself

the storm has come & gone
the rain gauge reset
there are words yet to be recorded
and gates to be repaired

but as you well know
those who rest too much die too soon
just as those speeding recklessly
encounter the same fate

when & where to call a timeout
that appears to be make a difference
for example like that instance
nobody cared for a whole year

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

taking it to the streets

they say a story has a beginning
and an end

[did you hear that I mean how
ridiculous is that]

we are the story
can you hear me as I tell it to you
my words vaguely familiar
picked up from where someone else
left off

we are nothing but ordinary people
[the far majority of us that is]
meticulously reworking the history books
taking it to the streets
and putting our lives at stake

bring your ear next to my heart
can you still hear me
telling my story
the one that had no beginning
and is dying to end
my heart rapidly beating
my lungs barely breathing
my inaudible words
becoming broken promises
in need of repairing

june two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the story always ends

I was reading short stories and listening
to soulful blues on a lazy
hazy afternoon
lost in two worlds
subconsciously conjoining them
believing (deep down inside)
my own reality never did exist

I inch toward the edge of the chair
placing book to the side
reaching for the telecaster
unplugged I experiment
with chord progressions
sort of singing beneath my breath
my own improvised dialogue

september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

inside the rest of the story

he opened the oversized book halfway
and started to read midsentence
enunciating every single word perfectly

though the story had been told before
those wandering or lollygagging
suddenly stopped their senselessness
focused upon their sense of sound

it may not always be obvious but it is there
lingering in the background
muted or amplified or completely cut off
but whatever the circumstance
it will never leave your world

(but what of the rest of the story
all the little ones reiterated to the reader
their curious minds wanting to know
their voices quivering)

july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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