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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the month “March, 2012”

31 Mar 2012
2 Comments

time capsule


thirty years to the day
the old man buried a box
wrapped in plastic
on the border of his property

he recalled the idea
of hiding treasures
complemented his playfulness
agreed with his sensibilities

even though he knew
exactly where to go
he sat at the table
and unfolded the map
he had crafted at age fifty

life had been a blur until then
he remembered
and for the first time he swore
he had changed somehow

when he traced his finger
to the spot past the juniper trees
the items he would soon recover
flashed before him
as distant memories
slowly coming into focus


march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
29 Mar 2012
5 Comments

Bird, Oh Baby Bird


Sitting alone in the sunroom
I closed my eyes
and felt my body warming
one bright midmorning.

Getting lost in thought
an interruption soon sounded
with a thud against glass.
I blinked open my eyes,
glanced to the left,
found myself peering
out the glass door.

Knocked out or dead
I could not tell,
but a Black-capped Chickadee
lay on his back on the deck.
Move, I thought to myself, move!
Turn your white belly over
and raise your black chin.

As I reached for the handle
the little bird shook his little body
and shook it once again.
Within half a second
he sprang to his feet,
gave me a wink,
and off he went.


march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, Poetry and tagged ,
26 Mar 2012

In My Perennial Garden


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

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
25 Mar 2012
5 Comments

Trick of the Mind


I trained myself to awake
around six in the morning,
no matter how many hours
I slept the night before,
even the times
when it wasn’t much
due to bouts of pleasant reveries
that didn’t want to end.
On those mornings
it seemed so easy
to trick the mind into believing
arriving to work early
was more important
than anything else,
including the imaginary parties
that continued on
from the night before.


march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
24 Mar 2012
4 Comments

Nights Like These


It starts with a clap
a flash
a distant sound of despair

one mississippi
two mississippi
three mississippi

Fireflies marvel
at the electricity
searching for shelter
in the open air

one mississippi
two mississippi

A child scrambles
in three directions at once
finds protection
in her mother’s arms

one mississippi

This fiery night
is wickedly bright
but through my eyes
is beauty in disguise

one


nineteen ninety-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
18 Mar 2012
6 Comments

Under the Influence of God


Armed with knowledge and truth
angels wander along a rocky coast
occasionally glancing
at the multi-colored sky
breathing in virgin air
and tasting salt-water
from a never-ending sea
that crashes and rolls onto itself
and toward those who wait
with extraordinary patience
for their time to be called



march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dogma, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , ,
14 Mar 2012
4 Comments

Highway Sign


“The wages of sin is death”
flashed before my eyes
while driving 80 miles per hour
on Highway 13.

A pain shot up
my arm and for a moment
I had no hands on the steering wheel.

In what context, I wondered
did the homemade sign suggest?
And why did it happen
to find me there?


march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
10 Mar 2012
6 Comments

Inside a Circle


I took the 7:10 into the city: an hour
ride taken so many times.
Most of the faces inside the car
I had seen before, others I had not.
I sat motionless, pretending
to be patient, wishful today
I would find the woman
whose ring I recovered eight day ago.
Reaching into my pocket
I pulled out the gold band
and held it between my thumb
and forefinger, her reflection
developing inside a circle
I would forever adore.


march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
03 Mar 2012
4 Comments

The Last Bullet


The last bullet
was intended for me
came out of nowhere
like a flash of light
its irresistible spin traveling
some two thousand miles per second
much faster than my mind
could comprehend

The last bullet
remained lodged
in my brain until the day came
when I could no longer believe
I had beat it
could no longer replay in slow motion
how it had arrived there
night after night

march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , ,

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