poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Animals”

cunning like a songbird

in the kitchen uncaged canaries
chat amongst themselves
swapping oft-told tales and
keeping secrets from
black & white cat crouched
against shadowy wall

outside red-breasted nuthatches
mimic dog barking at jet airliner
piercing cumulus clouds
waiting for aforementioned feline
to give them another chance
at target practice

december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

cool like pink lemonade

sun falling fast behind frost-covered hills
shades of pink glorifying the horizon
variable winds swirling and sweeping
speaking in languages I’m sure I once knew
images of elephants coming to mind
marching high in midday sky
sporting hides bordering on pink
drifting in and out of cumulus clouds
turning hot and sticky summer days
into something inexplicably cool

november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

transposing public transportation

I am reminded of nothing
save shrewd tactics of those I know not
tearing and snarling and shredding
turning fabric into mayhem
like a mongrel in distress

leashless on the streets
roaming like a werewolf in london
big dawg strides unencumbered
attempting new tricks inside
buses and trains and taxicabs

october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

another saturday night

don’t make me get up I yelled at the dog
(in my sleep) but it was too late

the sun had been down for god knows how long
and though I was close to REM sleep
the almighty stench abruptly woke me up

by the time I reached the kitchen
and turned on the light
the cat was meowing like a maniac
but I wasn’t sure if he was in or out

I walked to the back door
and he leapt at me from out of nowhere
shredding the back of my tee
making me nearly piss my pants

needless to say I (figuratively) kicked him
out into the night

I returned to the kitchen to clean things up
thereafter proceeding to cut up
the watermelon sitting on the counter
along with a few lemons and a dozen
or so freshly picked strawberries

it was still saturday night and since I was
wide awake with no place to go
I poured myself a beer and
retired to the next room
began trying my hand at poetry

september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

finding your comfort zone

midnight arrives and a sudden
something wakes me from my slumber
a strike of lightning perhaps
a thunderclap inside my head

I can’t breathe here lying on this bed
lazily and precariously I remove
myself off the comforter
nearly in a trance I pretend I’m
sleepwalking down the steps

I’m far from alone on the main floor
sounds of human breathing
omnipresent and unmistakably eerie
incoherent words babbling barely

I distance myself from dark thoughts
and curl up against sunroom door
cool to the touch my warm body relaxes
moonlight waxing and shimmering
exposing my off-white stripes

august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

postcards from afar

we thought he had moved out
for good this time
leaving behind a few possessions
nobody dared to care about

some throw pillows
a trinket or two misplaced here or there
some perishables left in the pantry
and a few dirty dishes
on or around the dining room table

though he never did pay rent
we didn’t mind him hanging out
especially on quiet saturday mornings

what gets under my skin
how he never did leave a note
or better yet sent a postcard from
some faraway place
leaving me second guessing
what could I have done
to make him feel more welcome

may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

counting sheep

the rain is too much
preventing the last two doves from
locating the wayward ark
turkey vultures soaring undetected
circling high above singletary shepherds
determined and confident in their ability
to overcome the landscape
and account for every single lamb
entrusted to them by the good lord

march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I’ve never been to Pennsylvania

Groundhog lives in public library
or so I’ve been told from some
somewhat reliable source

He’s got a girlfriend or wife or whatever
a furry green-eyed special kind of lady
who loves to keep him company

It’s a most transparent kind of life
but at least it’s quiet in library
and I suppose there is much snoozing

How he lives a fairy tale kind of life
one where townsfolk and wayward travelers
pay heed to his annual prognostications

And everyone knows his name
so there’s no point in repeating it now
this sunny second day of February

february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

something is missing

the headlines are loud and clear
wars at home and abroad
national championship game
bull market stock run
millionaire lotto winners
cars swept away in mudslides
russian babies born in miami

they mean nothing when
stitched together haphazardly
presented in pretty picture frames
designed to throw us off course
like some juvenile giraffe
on a mission to make new friends
unable to see the wood for the trees

january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

On the Fourth of July

Hop skip and jump
all the way to bank & back
nickels in pockets
pennies in shoes

The ice is thin
but surprisingly strong
watching in amazement
elephants marching on

Many moons smile
only a few may frown
there is orange in the sky
nobody seems to forget

Listen here and listen now
silence and fireworks
commingling on purpose
resting up
for the unrest

january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

from the book of numerology

there is truth in numbers
and there is money too
the two go hand in hand
like youtube and click ads

so these cats we knew
decided to get off the grid
cash in their chips
bought one-way ticket to cape town
determined to find truth from
some mojo guru goddess

of course once there
they were told to draw a number
forced to blend in line with
other carbon dated records
all competing to uncover exact
combination to make it out alive

january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

honey hunting and trips to moon and back

they went honey hunting they did
christopher robin and pooh and piglet
and of course tigger too

they flew to the moon and back
their spacecraft refueling on the far side
rocking them back and forth in time
hurtling them toward the old blue jewel
more specifically the hundred acre wood

looking down from the heavens
you can see where they landed
a burst of light microwaving
and expanding through the trees
awakening all creatures
big and small and minuscule
awaiting for what must happen next

december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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