jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

missing in action


looking down from the ninth floor
there was nowhere to go but up

michael may have been missing
but I knew he was within earshot

though I was tiring of the routine
I had no intention of checking out
instead reestablished my footing
attempting to regain communication
with anyone who may or
may not have wings




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

santa ana winds


there is desperation in the wind
causing fires to spread
and lonely thoughts to cave in
good lord handing out hail marys
like there is no tomorrow

it’s 4:30 in the morning
and you tell yourself the sun
may never rise again
and somehow you forgive yourself
finally resigned to fall asleep




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

early afternoon memoirs


I made pekoe for two
in my red porcelain teapot
but it was just me and my thoughts
retiring to the sunroom
bird songs in the background
streams of consciousness meandering
inside sublime daydreams
mixing fantasy with memories
and all that was meant to be





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

instead of rescuing children starving


quintillion of stars shine
down upon all corners of planet earth
perhaps an inspiration to us all
but alas we are far away from reversing
billions upons trillions of dollars spent
equipping programmatic minds
beautiful machinery capable of killing
singularly or massively like clockwork





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

meanwhile shadows linger downtown


they put in sidewalks where there used to be grass
on the old side of town thanks to that penny tax
three whole blocks for three whole weeks
disrupting traffic and making everything ugly
heavy machinery and piles of dirt
candy corn pylons and cement trucks
men and women dressed fluorescently
an occasional open hand in my face
or arm motioning me to get on with my life





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

left behind in rearview mirror


shortness of breath
I decide to hold it
pretending to be a child
cheeks expanding and reddening
eyes bulging like goldfish
it’s all you can do not to laugh

nonetheless there is much laughter
crescendoing and sad
easier than simply crying
surrendering to the crash
like a desperate goldfish
dying to breathe



november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

macy’s thanksgiving day parade


an ordinary autumn day
colorful trees swelling like a piñata
stretching to reach a bright
and amazingly beautiful blue sky
pretty pink pigs with angel wings
noisily floating overhead



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

california breaking away


and finally the fires extinguished
themselves
giving way to rains and
eventually floods
chasing ants and jesus freaks
to higher ground

and from the heavens angels
watch amusingly
as noah takes up residence
outside beverly hills
repairing his ark
gradually garnering attention





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

winter on our continent


heavy is the rain falling on disquieted river
awakened from a disturbing dream
troubling and bone-chilling
springing forth afterburning energy
recycled into virgin snow
gently blanketing mountaintops



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

there is compassion in this world


exposed to your predicament
I refuse to feed my face
instead spend my free time
determining how to calm your fears

you say there is no place to go
and I say you’ve got to be kidding
if only you would accept the hand
reaching out to help you



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

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