jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

of the almighty sun


who is he hiding in the shadows
among the naked trees
changing size and color and shape
coming and going as he pleases
depending upon
the angle of the sun

I’ve come to accept his presence
yet still I wonder who is he
hiding in the shadows
ever changing
approaching and receding
with a blink or two of an eye

neither friend nor foe
inevitably he will show his face
as prophesied in my dream
flexing his crimson or ivory wings
depending upon the angle
of the almighty sun




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

transplanting poppy fields


I listened to the sad sad story
how the war had taken its toll
it left me wondering of the fields
and when they would ever bloom

the story never seems to end
borders constantly changing
women and children marching on
poppies pinned to their hearts




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

seeing through things


it’s sunday evening and I’m starting
to see through things
much like I did when I was child

it’s cool and clear and the open air
is filled with electricity
rifling through my quiet complexity

I’ve kept to myself throughout this day
yet I’ve been everywhere
picking and choosing points in between

though there’s nobody remotely near
I can feel your company
your eyes penetrating right through me




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

standing the test of time


with age comes discovery
rising above the ordinary
whether major or minor
each a treasure in their own right
realized or still transforming

that old familiar friend
advancing its slow approach
as clear as crows flying
along darkened shoreline
cawing in and out of reality

nobody lives to tell the tale
or at least that’s what they say
but truth be told we’re all
remapping chartered territories
and rewriting age-old stories




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

One beautiful dream


I dreamed of African violets
uprooted and transplanted and repackaged
transported from their ancestral lands
introduced to newly formed territories

I found myself walking unfamiliar streets
passing one storefront window after the next
each one blossoming with the latest
sensation of the season

How am I to distinguish the real
from the imaginary from the ever falling rain
replenishing the good earth with new life
one beautiful dream at a time




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a brief visitor from the unknown


I want to be that comet [or whatever
you want to call it]
that the average person off the street
can’t even begin to pronounce

you may or may not know
what I’m talking about
but it doesn’t matter to any
rogue interstellar traveler
entering the milky way
hell bent on targeting the sun

imagine if you will
lost souls attached to its tail
long ago cast away to find inner peace
hanging on fearlessly
throughout countless galaxies
occasionally returning home
leaving those bound to the surface
mesmerized by its fleeting beauty




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

fish and toast on sunday morning


and then there were just
the two of us
yielding to the god of wine
on the back deck
minutes before sunrise

the rest said
they were going down to the river
to see if the catfish were biting

that was at least a couple of hours ago

they took with them the last of the red
but I said do not worry darling
we’ve yet to open the last of the white




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

prodigal son


it was time I went back home
perhaps for the last time
to pay my respects
just as the commandments
had once taught me

I arrived clean shaven
and with half an appetite
sitting at the table
there was nothing but chit chat
and I dare not admit
the last time I’d made it
to confession

the house was too big
much bigger than
even I had remembered
somehow they’d managed
to keep it well kept
and up-to-date all these years

in the kitchen a little placard read
‘heaven hath no dust’

after lunch we settled into
the screened in porch
a baseball game streaming on the
muted television set
each of us with a beer in hand
silently asking for forgiveness
and giving thanks to god




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

paying attention to the cosmos


it knows everything about you
and over the course of a lifetime
gradually lets you in on your
own little secrets

birth charts and palm lines
reciting and memorizing
practicing as if for the first time
words and phrases capturing
past and future events

resurrecting houseplants
from the brink of death
dealing cards by candlelight
gradually realizing
accumulating knowledge
can be a dangerous thing

there comes a point in time
everything circling around you
explodes into complete focus
leaving you empowered
at least momentarily
transported at your command
at one with the cosmos




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lesson for the day


when applied earnestly there is something
special about solitude

the sun is always your friend but the moon
now she’s another story

for most of us today should be sufficient
and tomorrow can easily wait

for everyone else simply enjoy the ride




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

places I’ve yet to be


I thought I was in some place that I was not
how the mind bends reality leaving you
rethinking everything you’ve learned thus far

how many lies must I tell before becoming truth
mind beginning to believe anything I say or do

I’ve been told there is an ocean on the other
side of this magnificent purple mountain
the very one I will have surfed endless times




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

morning view


the clock has struck midnight
and I here I remain
similar to yesterday’s self
but somehow slightly different
I can’t quite put my finger on

changing seasons once again
a battle between wind
and cricket and creation
a jealous crescent moon
simply an innocent bystander

I sit and wonder by the window
does anyone ever win
morning sun coming into view
colored pencils on cottony paper
attempting to capture it all




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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