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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

walking between rain and sunshine


glass floor to be danced upon
shiny and bright by full moon
anxious to be noticed
spotlighting raindrops
falling from tallest ceilings

I’ve been inside this maze before
and always come out
smelling like roses
blowing my kisses into a mirror
constantly reinventing itself



august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

innocence takes many forms


out of sight out of mind
black and white images
unconcerned by various mainstreams
a dark contrast to the very places
they can’t possibly comprehend



august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

under a microscope


wandering eyes drift toward faraway places
beyond the most restrictive boundaries
where all the gods’ offspring continuously
compete for your complete attention



august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

freezing of the sea


I knew once my skin had broken
things would be changing quickly

I quietly ducked down below
to retrieve a sweater

arriving back on deck I felt quite
comfortable beneath endless starlight

in my mind I was witnessing a new
moon rising half-way across the world



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

shades of silver and gold


I’m going to take them with me
each and every one of them
I’m going to box them up neatly
like the prettiest set of flowers
ever assembled
and present them with humility
to the spirit of the skies



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

just like a satellite


out back the boys chewed
on tobacco they called butterflyweed
and not a one of them had a single
thought in their head

inside the girls worked batch
after batch of monster cookies
television set playing in the background
radio blasting pop rock
not a one of them ever not talking

somewhere along the line
these monarch butterflies fly overhead
like an orange sundog drifting along
arcing like a rainbow through the midday sky



june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

rumors of an evacuation


for some reason only the crickets
came out that night
and before the break of dawn
all of the birds will have left the city

at the inception it was a nonevent
but in retrospect
it shouldn’t have taken so long
before the people started leaving



june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

only dreaming


I showed up with plenty of time to spare
so I ordered myself a beer

nothing was really happening and I began
to wonder what brought me here

perhaps we had met in a previous lifetime
and me being here
was nothing more than a memory

or perhaps I’m still alive and only daydreaming



june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

like a crow on a sign post


there is an intangible stirring somewhere
perhaps in the clouds or in the water
in the ground or in the fire
it doesn’t matter ‘where’ really
it could be in the economy or in the wars
lying dormant in a billion dreams
it could be current events or
your everyday laissez-faire
but it is most definitely there
designed to reassure
true change is inevitable



june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the fall of the reinforcements


they kept bringing in more men
untrained and unarmed
marching single file in and out of the fire
reborn into rising stars
cast away to recreate
new worlds on their own terms



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

stuck on track eleven


half dozen white-eyed blackbirds
pace and fidget on a shelf
grooving to the white album
and lip-syncing at will

unsure what brought them there
not one of them cares
not as long as there are nuts to crack
and old-time rock to hear



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

The cosmonaut and the cat


I’m not going to space without my cat
I told them
and all of sudden they start this foolish
talk about bumping me

It’s a little too late for that don’t you think
I tell them
and a day later
they agreed the cat can go



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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