jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “In the City”

16 Jul 2016
10 Comments

the street artist and the young woman


it was the wrong shade of blue
he kept telling himself
but he kept on with the brush
and the red wine and cigarillo

passersby strolled by like museum goers
some pausing on occasion
to remark about the unfinished piece

you’re a natural beauty he told the young
woman in the yellow summer dress
sitting on a short stool and barely smiling

but there is a problem he went on to say
I am not happy with your eyes

why is that she asked worriedly
quickly rising to her feet

they’re the wrong shade of blue
he began to explain
but as he spoke her shoulders eased
and she smiled and soaked in the
painting for the very first time

oh no she said
you did a wonderful job
they’re beautiful

they’re the wrong shade of blue
he repeated
telling her to take it away
without charge
telling her to get it out of his sight
before doing something regrettable


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged ,
10 Jul 2016
4 Comments

in the land of free-for-alls and firearms


summer’s promise has been smashed into
irreparable pieces
swept into the gutter along with man’s mortal sins
unable to be washed away
even by torrential rains

the pursuit of happiness is just a dying thought
riddled with contradictions

kings clench their fists and promise
real change will come
but the people in the streets shake their heads
weeping for the dead with brooms in hand

that all men are created equal they know
to be untrue
as are the history books justifying
the massacre of native peoples
and the legality of human slavery

oh America why have thou failed so many
foolishly feeding
the machine of mass destruction
your people afraid to leave their homes
a people starving for peace and love
and understanding
unconcerned with hollow words
on an idle document


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
06 Jul 2016
5 Comments

violent was the well lit night


shots were fired overnight
like thunder and lightning
and then the rains fell
two point seven inches in all

young man staggers in
and out of shadows
low-beam street lamp
revealing bullet proof vest

sirens and flashing lights
blend in with nature
weaving through alleys
baby glocks and berettas
systematically revolving around
unrecycled neighborhoods

lights flicker off and on
frightened eyes peeking
through shadeless windows
chalk outlines on sidewalks
washed away before
cleaning crews ever arrive


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
16 Jun 2016
2 Comments

deep six rising


I drifted along ancient streets
where good men once
negotiated fairly
where scholars texted
freely on sacred scrolls buried
deep beneath the rubble

inside the botanical gardens
the master rarely sleeps
preaching peace and
nurturing the disadvantaged
by means seen and unseen

it’s as if the city never vanished
neither conquered nor
destroyed by unnatural forces
as if the voices weeping
beneath the surface
would never rise again



june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
21 Apr 2016

twin city blues


rain pounded relentlessly
throughout the cities
canceling out the most
extraordinary rhythm and blues
racing past sullen streets
and endless alleyways


april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
13 Apr 2016
4 Comments

first signs of spring


everything came out of hiding
except of course
that which devoured
the other thing
like the worm to the robin
or the flower to the deer

trees blossom above the concrete
dwarfed by sun-hungry high rises
giving temporary shelter
to angels warming their wings

rising above the surface
transitory spirits take to the streets
assessing what the winter had done
by taking a simple counting of heads


april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
08 Apr 2016
10 Comments

a conversation that wasn’t


sitting in the natural light in
an outside cafe
one warm spring day
I cross my legs
exposing their whiteness

an elderly woman asks
if this seat is taken
and I shake my head and stretch
out my darkened arm
palm open toward the metal chair
across from me

I remove my satchel from my shoulder
and place it under the table
sliding it further with my foot

we hold a pleasant and somewhat
intelligent conversation
she drinking sweet hibiscus tea
and me a double espresso

I told her I was from the third world
and she nodded and laughed
saying she was from the old one

I went on to confess I shave my legs
but seldom my face
and she smiled and said
she did just the opposite

she listened to every single word I said
even the ones spoken in another language
attempting to give clarity to my predicament

I went on to say I don’t believe
I belong here
that I was thinking of checking out for good

If you don’t mind she responded
please give me a head start
and I’ll be on my way
before you take me with you


april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
22 Mar 2016
3 Comments

deathly viral


a sickness hangs around
undisturbed
sublime like the slender moon
infrequently bright
but destined to burst

silent cells work below
the surface
tunneling effectively
like eager termites
building a kingdom

monitors intersect
the chatter
faint but riding the airwaves
like a vampire bat
preparing to strike

emerging past the shadows
bulging lights
expose the contagion
airborne and fatal
blighting whole cities


march two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
14 Feb 2016
9 Comments

there is triviality in everything


somewhere in michigan the tap water
is very hard to drink
and somewhere in minnesota
somebody is cracking jokes

the old couple down the street
did themselves in
like in a bukowski poem
but this time the neighbors
didn’t have a clue
because the old man nuked
the TV dinners

these politics in these
united states
need somehow to reinvent
themselves
their labels clearly out of date
unable to stop the wave
that is about to take them over

some of us work on mainstreet
some of us forty stories high
some of us strive
to be alive
in the wires or better yet
on wifi
sometimes barely seen
except when needing to strike

in the meantime economic
inequalities stretch elastically
chartlines hitting new lows
and testing resistance points
while more and more children
act as runners in the alleys
just another piece of the puzzle
royal princes might say
that keeps the status quo
from taking life too seriously


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
11 Feb 2016
6 Comments

toward the next tipping point


boots in the distance pounding the street
sounding off in perfect rhythm
like a faraway train

legs run in many directions
escaping lawless neighborhoods
arms signaling to the sky
screaming at nobody in particular
just calling out to be heard

airwaves are crowded with inaudible
communications
delivered in technological languages
subjected to interception and
precision translation

there is nothing secret going on
throughout the greatest cities
where multitudes
of the most ordinary
amass in breathless harmony


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
04 Feb 2016
4 Comments

undeterred


we germinated seeds wrapped in
moist paper towels
trapped inside teacup saucers
left behind beneath the kitchen sink

evicted for reasons unbeknownst
to the uncaring eye
we migrated into the metropolis
finding security amongst the living

barely surviving into the spring
we packed our things
heads held high and singing
like the birds following in our wake

crossing into newfound fertile lands
we planted something new
prayed to the gods that be
our resurrected hopes would grow


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
01 Feb 2016
2 Comments

midnight abduction


voluntarily confined in second story room
four walls with one door
one window
locked inside for hours
watching outside world
smartphone connected to headphones

down below frenzied family interacts
fingers pushing buttons designed
to simplify lives
modern distractions creating confusion
dinner overcooked in oven
baskets of clothes stacked high
little ones devouring soggy frosted flakes

curfew sets in
lights faintly glow
cold air and distant sirens
stream in through wide open window
convoluted dreams turning sideways
by a single scream
fists pounding a simple door
barricading teenage aspirations


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged ,
31 Jan 2016
17 Comments

lost and unfound


the cat chased the crescent moon
deep into the night
encountering near death experiences
along the way
living and dying by the hour
until inevitably unseen

with the scent of the cat
fresh in the dog’s
sensory perceptions
he searched for days on end
until finally losing track of
his long-lost friend

promising to return another day
the dog headed back home
guided by a bright satellite
looming over the city
stray cats springing from the shadows
and jumping over the moon




Oscar & Chester


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , ,
24 Jan 2016
3 Comments

snow covered driveways


in the winter I move my
badass twenty-speed road bike
out of the garage and
down to the basement where
it hangs out of sight and mind

when the next morning arrives
I take to the streets on foot
dressed in layers so not
one part of my old body gets cold
except for maybe my cheeks

some days the streets are better
options than sidewalks
because so many lazy neighbors
can’t seem to properly clear them off

you can tell a lot about a neighbor
by looking at their sidewalks and driveways

when driveways remain snow-covered
for days on end
it tells you they’re either down in florida
yukking it up with the joneses
drinking arnold palmers and
never giving it a thought if the neighbor kid
was actually earning his keep
or they’re hopelessly homebound
deathly ill or worse yet
dead and gone
without a soul in the world
wondering where they are


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
17 Jan 2016
3 Comments

Ciudad de México


To this day pieces of my past
remain scattered
in the Valley of Mexico
consumed into the warm soft clay

When you said you didn’t love me
lightning struck
three times in the distance
portending tears of a sad affair

In Mexico City I remained
for years on end
taking to the streets
smiling and laughing and enjoying
the companionship
of a compassionate people
accepting the art and music
and language and history as my own
living a lie that my heart
had never been broken




View the Spanish translation version by Lina Ru by clicking here


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
12 Dec 2015
4 Comments

behind the darkest of days


dense fog rolled in
long before the awakening
muting streetlamps
seen as glowing orbs
dotted along lifeless streetscapes

behind the shroud
crows gather atop barren
unseen trees
calling upon a breakthrough light
delivering beacons of hope


december two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,

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