Poetry Random Thoughts and Stuff Like That

The trees remember

What it means

To try again

Bare hands

Reaching back

I do not love you softly

I love you like hunger

Like something that waits in the dark

You built your walls like I was war

Closed every window locked every door

I knocked with truth I called your name

But you stayed silent played silly games

I brought no lies no hidden keys

Just open hands and honesty

But you looked through me like I was doubt

Left me standing here just locked out

Your past still lingers so you've professed

You guard your pain close to your chest

But love don't live where fear resides

It fades away where truth collides

I would've fought I would've stayed

But love can't bloom where trust decayed

So keep your fortress keep your doubt

She don’t come in pieces

No screws no spare

No scattered parts tossed everywhere

No folded edges no missing frame

She built herself and guards her name

No instruction sheet to read her right

No guessing games she stands in light

She comes assembled

Walls and doors

No hidden entry no secret floors

She holds her worth in quiet grace

Not every man deserves that space

She got no random coochie to spare

No body bartered anywhere

No extra pieces to give away

Not giving self for full display

So if you knock then come correct

With truth with honor with deep respect

She stands complete no parts misplaced

No vacant space for your embrace

A whole damn world behind her eyes

No assembly nessassary

We strolled through nights of jasmine bloom

Where silver stars made extra room

Your touch was fire sweet and slow

My pulse the drummer in the show

We whispered vows in borrowed light

Two fugitives arrested in lonely nights

Our breath wove secrets in the air

In languages of skin and prayer

You swore the future loved our name

That fate would crown us without shame

And even time bowed down to see

How love rewrote our destiny

With every kiss the world turned kind

No heartbreak left for us to find

The gods grew jealous of our claim

Two souls that burned the very same

But morning broke a thief in white

And stole you from my waiting sight

No memory stayed no whispered plea

No trace of you remained with me

I reached for warmth that wasn’t there

My hands just held the empty air

The dream collapsed the curtain fell

The truth rang through like chapel bells

There was no you

No sacred vow

No cosmic thread to stitch us now

The love I swore was heaven sent

Was just my mind on sleeps consent

A fevered wish a staged romance

A ghost I kissed in midnights trance

Not heartbreak something worse

The story ended in reverse

For all that love and all that art

Existed only in my heart

And when I tried to make it real

The fabric tore the seams revealed

No lovers gaze

No promise true

Just fantasy

Imagining me loving you

The morning drifts in quietly

Like someone placing flowers

On the edge of my sleep

Nothing asks for hurry

Nothing needs to prove

Just breath just light

And the small reminder

That I am still here

And the world is still kind

The incense curled in violet threads

To crown the night in ancient red

The temple bells rang through the night

To call the shadows into sight

The moon unveiled her hidden crown

And pulled the restless rivers down

My heartbeat hummed a hollow tune

While wolves barked softly to the moon

The night unstitched its silver gown

And draped it on the barren town

Nothing whispered no one frowned

I am not broken

I am rearranged

Life reached inside me

And shifted what remained

I learned that surviving

Is not staying the same

It’s carrying the damage

Without carrying the shame

Some things had to shatter

So truth could be seen

What looks like destruction

Was space in between

I am not broken

I am rearranged

Still standing in pieces

That learned how to change

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Fun Fact ~Did you know the art of mending broken pottery with gold is called kintsugi, and it originated in 15th-century Japan? They use gold to honor the break. The repair becomes a declaration that what has been damaged still holds value, function, and dignity.

Mended bowls serves as a powerful metaphor for resilience. They are not fixed to be forgotten, nor discarded for being flawed. They are rearranged, reshaped, and allowed to continue, carrying their history openly rather than hiding it. I really love this tradition.

Grannies china I broke when I was seven during a tea party with my friends could have been repaired using kintsugi. Instead of hiding the damage, the cracks would have been highlighted, turning the break into something more beautiful.

Oil rises like a dark tongue

From the belly of the land

Thick with centuries it never consented to give

The ground remembers the first wound

Thick as history

Dark as names we’re told to forget

It seeps into water and lungs

Into treaties signed under threat

Something slick fills the air

Truth thinned to a rainbow skin

Grief where language failed

Blood oil

It doesn’t burn it suffocates

Coats the mouth of the wound

How it teaches fire to hesitate

How it makes clean water forget itself

We tried to pray it away

Hands blackened palms open

Asking mercy from a sky that smelled like metal

Even the birds learned new shapes of falling

This oil remembers lies

Bodies turned to use

Silence sold as peace

Touch it and you shine

Mistaken for healed

Until it pulls you under

Beneath it all

Truth still holds its breath

Waiting to be stolen

Waiting to be named poison

Waiting to be named profit

In my mind I draw a square

in the very center of the garden

From there I dig into the earth

using the seasoned spade

usually reserved for plantings

The hole slowly turns into a cube

as three mounds resemble

Egyptian resting places

Further down the soil

becomes hard and cold

the clay malleable enough

to mold eternal companions

Satisfied the opening

is mathematically sound

I hold the spade at my side

sweat falling off my forehead

silently instructing the child

to bring forth her loved one

to the newly built altar

november two thousand eleven

copyright j matthew waters

We used to be green

Full of light

Turning every soft word

Into sugar for the soul

I photosynthesized your promises

Leaned toward your warmth

Stretched fragile leaves into the sun of you

Believing light was endless

But seasons shift without warning

The sky grew pale

The light grew thin

And slowly quietly

The green drained from within

Now I feel myself fading

Not dead

Just dim

Still breathing

But no longer blooming

I stand here stem trembling in a colder world

Trying to make life

From shadows

Trying to grow on what’s no longer there

What hurts most

Is not the dying

It’s remembering

How alive we were

Thanksgiving brings a gentle peace

A moment where our thanks increase

For family close and friends we hold

For memories new and stories told

For food that warms for hearts that care

For love that waits us everywhere

Today we pause our spirits light

And feel our blessings shining bright

Thanksgiving comes with warmth and cheer

But not for every heart this year

Some chairs sit empty some rooms feel cold

Some stories hurt too much to be told

So if this season feels heavy and blue

Grief doesn't mean somethings wrong with you

Not every holiday brings relief

Some shine with thanks

Love comes softly

Like a London rain

Not a storm

But a steady whisper

Falling over cobblestones

And windowpanes

Soaking through

The head might not understand

But would your heart

It is to the heart which I now appeal

That part which

Dare I say it

Has been neglected

Can you allow me this

Shall we ground ourselves to each other

So that I may go into the darkness Knowing the day

I once tasted heaven

~~~

How did we become this Two shadows walking circles around half truths we’re scared to touch Hearts still beating but out of rhythm Like we forgot the song we used to purr in the dark How did we become this A pair of tired voices whispering through closed doors As if silence could hold us together As if distance was safer than the weight of what we feel How did we become this Hands that used to fit like promises Now trembling at the memory of warmth Afraid to reach afraid to let go How did we become this Love turned into reflections Dreams turned into dust And all the little pieces we dropped along the way Still calling our names How did we become this Maybe we weren’t paying attention Maybe we were too busy surviving Maybe we forgot that love needs tending Even when life is burning at the edges How did we become this Standing in the ruins of what once felt holy Trying to figure out If we can build again Or if this is where we finally learn To walk away