jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “In the City”

30 Aug 2014
7 Comments

closer to home


when the terrorists moved in down the
street the other week
I worried nonstop for the safety of my children
and my two thousand twelve chevrolet

since moving in they’d been stockpiling
weapons in the two-car garage

when I called the police
they said there was nothing they could do

they’re living here legally
they said
and they’ve purchased the necessary
ammunition stamps

pausing with phone in hand
I stood looking out the bay window
watched the registered sex offender
(across the street and two doors down)
jump in his sports car and race away

my hands by my side I could barely hear the
officer on the other end repeatedly asking
hello hello hello





august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , ,
20 Aug 2014
8 Comments

all alleys lead to sand & saltwater


walking away from the sunset
shopping for the next place to sleep
eyes remain optimistic of a tomorrow
promising pay

all alleys in this pacific coast city
lead to sand & saltwater
along the way housing is made from
cardboard & wire & unfinished dreams

familiar hopeful faces
unite and welcome the wonders of the day
their hands busily preparing
to feed five thousand





august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
02 Aug 2014
5 Comments

letter in waiting


this woman I once knew always
spoke the truth
steered clear of all the haters
and did what she wanted to do

she enjoyed back rubs
and always said thank you

she once told me over chardonnay
how she was sick and tired of
nobody taking responsibility

once upon a time she acted
all whole and goody two-shoes
but that made her feel nervous
and less than virtuous

one rainy morning she told me
she had found that perfect place
kissed me goodbye
and fled on foot into the city

head stuck out
second story window
I waved and yelled for her to write

once she had gotten there


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
27 Apr 2014
11 Comments

girl with poker face smile


girl in polka dot dress sits and
sips cappuccino at the internet cafe
nose to chin masked behind
fingers concealing pocket aces

conspiring to expose her hand
I move all in escorted by kings
proclaiming to win her heart

girl with poker face smile
sips cappuccino at the internet cafe
her eyes looking down and
alluringly taking this town





april two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
21 Apr 2014
9 Comments

it won’t be long


we sat on the front porch
and watched the grass grow green
over a kahlua and cream
and slice of moon

between sips I told her I wasn’t
going back to compete with the rats
and cockroaches in the city

they can all go to hell I said

she nodded her head
body slightly swaying while both hands
held onto her cup protectively

I don’t trust those sons-a-bitches she said

the wind shifted and blew
the coolness of otter creek into the
open air and through our bones

opening my pocket watch
I told her it won’t be long before
they tire of the city
and resume their journey
back to god’s country


april two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
14 Apr 2014
6 Comments

groundhog day


no matter where I go there are holes
holes in the city streets
a hole in my metal bucket
holes through hula hoops and hangman nooses
small holes on wooden boards boys and girls
try to hit with miniature bean bag squares

at the deli I order a ham and cheese on rye
I hope swiss is okay says the hair-netted lady
not really I say got anything without holes
afraid not she says
perplexed and nearly disgusted
I walk out with a bag of chips
but no sandwich
and proceed to step in a hole
full of sand and rocks
displaced from last night’s rain

an old man sitting on a bench with a hole
in his head chuckles at my misfortune
keep laughing old man I say
don’t worry says the old man
there’ll be plenty more days like these


april two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
27 Mar 2014
5 Comments

red light


camera at top of the world
forces my foot down
left facing the red light
idling first in line
outside the city’s edge

I wait with my own thoughts
neither angry nor sad
indifferent to my circumstance
my petty arguments
list of things unsaid

vague images fly by like
recollections on wheels
transporting me near and far
as if past and present
resided inside the red light

one blink of the eye
I’m rushing forward
to the next intangible destination
chased from behind by
lights of another color



march two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
16 Feb 2014
4 Comments

trapped inside this city of mine


I am a stranger in my own land
cast aside like stale eye candy
wrapped in my own shame

I sit half-naked on the curb
a stick in my hand
drawing circles in the dirt
and wondering
who will save me this time

if only I had taken the ho chi minh trail
with those crazy americans
back in sixty-seven
my misery would have exploded into
millions of pieces
and I would now be looking down
on the wonders of the world



february two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , ,
08 Feb 2014
7 Comments

shelter in the city


an old top hat tumbles
down an urban alleyway
one gray wintry night
a single boot and smile
stopping it in its tracks

held beneath a streetlamp
scratches appear in the
faded charcoal felt
each crooked line a story
in and of itself

silvery lining holds imaginary
tales of happenstance
and midnight waltzes
murmuring like a seashell
untouched for centuries

gloveless fingers slide across
bent brim collecting
snowflakes and glances from
all the homeless eyes
seeking cover for the night



february two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
24 Nov 2013
4 Comments

inside the safe house


the neighboring kids
amassed their bikes
and wagons and scooters
and any other kind of steel
structure with or without wheels
piling them up across
a southside driveway

they stood behind their
improvised barricade
lifting toy weapons and fists
high into the air
screeching indecipherable
insults at an enemy
hiding behind mere curtains



november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
19 Nov 2013
2 Comments

turn off the lights


off in the distance
fiery bodies pierce an
otherwise cold and dark night
sparking unnatural cries
inside the city

dormant firehouses
suddenly become mobile
spewing lights and noise
through once sleepy
narrow avenues

earthen black holes
welcome life and death
mixing fear with hope
and giving mystery
a brand new meaning


november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , ,
24 Aug 2013
13 Comments

those shoes


she wore them only
on special occasions
and every time I saw them
I just wanted to slip them off her feet
and take her upstairs

but alas that was just a wish
and we paraded into town
high heels and all
the center of attention
every place we ventured

wickedly well rested
we danced into the night
tearing down disco walls
and cutting beale street rugs
deep inside memphis





august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
28 Jul 2013
4 Comments

come here boy


the bichon is on to something
he knows better
about going outside
where the dangers have crept
from the country to the city
over a period of
less than a dog’s life

chester didn’t used to be this way
but the latest barrage
of borrowed artillery
has taken its toll on his fragility
has left him second guessing
every single move he’s made
since he was a baby


july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
07 Jul 2013
11 Comments

if you can’t say anything nice


we went downtown
to have dinner at that fancy place
where you can eat outside
on the sidewalk
and observe the street traffic
and all the pretty people
and the pigeons
and bums
who live somewhere nearby

there were six of us
and I was probably the only one
who really didn’t want to eat outside
where the city’s best and worst would walk by
with their noses turned up
where street traffic with it’s unforgiving noise
emitted carbon vapors that drifted
past the sidewalk spotted with birdshit

I just sat there with a half smile on my face
drinking my drink through a straw
and twirling the umbrella stuck inside it
thinking it was best I not say anything
lest I’d spoil everybody’s fun


july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,
03 Jun 2013
7 Comments

saturday in the park


sitting on a bench in green square park
one saturday morning
I detected so many ghosts
walking about

the first day of summer
was just a stone’s throw away
and the nine o’clock sun
tried to burn the foggy images
out of my mind’s eye

some wandered alone aimlessly
some marching in groups of two
or three or more
some pretending they really had no business
being here
while yet others carried bags
or pushed empty strollers
hoping to find ways to fill them

at the nearby city gardens
I spotted little ones sniffing
red roses
that always came back to life this time of year

I leaned back and marveled
at how all of the ghosts
managed to travel through time and space
just to revisit opening day
at this year’s farmers’ market




june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , ,
23 May 2013
5 Comments

you can run but you cannot hide


the local news pushes its way
into the palm of my hand
a constant reminder
the information age
continues to shrink the planet

I’d been considering lately
of moving back to Iowa
but reports of violence
creeping in and out of her cities
leads me to conclude
there’s no place left to hide


may two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

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