jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Birds”

with no place to go


I’m sitting in a rocking chair
next to the bay window
paralyzed
a ray of light shining through
warming my hands

inside a clock is ticking
a fire burning
eyes shut tight I listen
to the house settling
as finches gather
in nearby spindle tree

I’ve watched the cycling
of the seasons
for so many years gone by
seemingly
from this very place
where the passage of time
simply stands still




february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

counting blue birds


certain things bring tears to my eyes
but I’m not about to let anyone
in on my little secrets

she asked me ‘penny for my thoughts’
and I replied how I really miss
counting blue birds from the deck

autumn was short and the winter cruel
and I was forced to retreat
back to the days of my youth

how I wanted her to accompany me
but I needed her to stay behind
in case they return while I’m away




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

simply by closing your eyes


listen and the words will follow
though they may not be the ones
you want to hear

if you practice patience you will
learn to rearrange them
turning lies into truths
and hatred into understanding

on the banks of fortuity
you may be able to slow things down
simply by closing your eyes
and making good use of your breath

and if you’re willing to travel
further on down the stream
letting yourself go
allowing otherworldy sounds
to become your rhythm
the gods that be may take notice
making an exception to the rule
by granting you a bird’s eye view




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

january thaw


winter winds unusually warm
bringing back birds I’ve not seen
in what seems like ages
suddenly returning in waves

I’ve been flying and foraging
for nearly a fortnight now
blending in with a family of
black-capped chickadees

I almost forgot what is was like
to be amongst a family
of five or fifty or five hundred
coexisting effortlessly




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the last migration


nobody talks about birds
growing older
but here we are
sitting on park benches
bread crumbs in our hands

this sitting down is for birds
I say out loud
and you naturally agree
without speaking a word

it’s a warm winter’s day
and our shadows
are barely visible on the
black asphalt
like skinny icicles hanging
ever slowly changing




december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

looking beyond the darker side


wherein your frustrations lay
a memory resides worth unearthing
buried beneath fortunes good and bad
a reminder of better times ahead

emotions tied to the ebb and flow
whether near the sea or far from shore
and strung along by hypersensitive moon
swim in your tumultuous waters

waves of intensity arise unannounced
testing your capacity for compassion
a merry reminder there’s nowhere to hide
when violet-backed starlings come around




december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

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

weeks before winter solstice


north by northwest winds do blow
giving rise to wooden and metallic chimes
previously content and on the down-low

I thought I had put them away for the winter
but alas they are alive again
imitating hummingbirds feeding voraciously
somewhere below the tropic of cancer

although the fire may be burning bright
do not shutter your windows my dear
for tomorrow a shining light may arrive
bringing forth the freshest of air




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

out of my life


oh captive bird
is that the only song
you know
sing sing sing to me
a lullaby

oh captive bird
serenading me to sleep
door’s wide open
why oh why
won’t you leave

oh captive bird
finally scheming
in my dreams
can feel you flying
like never before




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a matter of black and white


it’s never too late to get started
seeing things for the first time
whether walking through walls
or flying high in the sky

black birds too numerous to count
become motivated by changing winds
amassing in tradition and spirit
swirling like fast moving cloud

oh yes there are darker days ahead
or so says the prognosticator
white dove perched on shoulder
whispering secrets in her ear

sometimes the truth is in flight
other times walking on thin air
appearing and disappearing
like the great houdini himself




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

clearing the way


new moon held in cupped hands
like a wounded fledgling
feeling powerless
yet slowly warming
to this idea of finally flying free

trusting the process is not easy
for anything grounded
nevertheless you uncup
your trembling hands
observing the sky in a new light




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

practicing


there was a time
I’d pound those keys
morning noon and night
making music in my sleep
hoping one day they’d be
translated into poetry

they kept telling me
people love you
and of course
I believed them
like morning dew
believes in rising sun

piano in bay window
hasn’t been played
since god knows when
sparrows still perching
on old crabapple
remembering




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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