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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

how blue is your heart


stained glass hearts
tarnished over time
void of even the faintest
hint of crimson on the
brightest of summer days

on occasion lonely hearts
glisten back to life
slowly reaching out on the
clearest of nights at a
bulging moon turning blue



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Note: this poem is linked to Crow’s Open Mic Invitation

where on Earth have I been


there you are waiting in anticipation
perhaps nervous
or simply complacent
but your mind does wander
like winds whistling through a
heavy metal forest

and you wonder
will the waiting ever end

and then nothing ever comes
and you are back at the beginning
like a child
interpreting the clouds



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

santa’s little blue bird


I witnessed first hand
how santa claus hijacked
a short bus half-filled with
excited yet misinformed misfits

you could see him barreling
down route 13
allegedly screaming out a list of names
bouncing on the driver’s seat
failing to get the little blue bird
off the ground



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

chapter three


solar power paper planes
survey and scan billion acre rainforest
detecting seeds of life
planted by prehistoric man
suddenly sprouting beneath the mist



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the dragonfly’s calling


stitch and sew
your restless eyes
dragonfly hovers
keeping its cool

no bark no bite
mandibles chew air
swallowing suggestions
blown by the wind

water nymph no more
final metamorphosis
captures soul mate
perpetuating the cycle



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

children without smartphones


homeless little ones
fill the city square
walking aimlessly and unsupervised
staring into the palms of their hands
slaying pokémon dragons with
whatever imagination
they can get their hands on


august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the rise of the monarch butterfly


far from the embattled cities
beyond the waves of love and fury
milkweed grows wild along
county roads and graveled byways
(introducing rows of half-grown corn)
bending with the wind
and corrected occasionally
by a fleeting motorist


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

misdiagnosis


the good doctor told me the pain
manifested from my mind
from repressed emotions
determined to breach the surface

of course I knew that was unlikely
since I had already committed
to hundreds of the tiniest of needles
designed to free my malevolent spirits


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the march for peace is a slow one


it seems like the month of may again
let’s have a parade

lay down your arms
and raise the white flag
for the prince is born this day

embrace these times of peace
and promise to never let go


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the beauty of being yourself


sometimes it seems everybody
wants to be somebody
they are not
continuously searching for something
that may or may not
turn them into someone more beautiful
than they already are


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

best of friends


she was six and he five
they walked a mile or so
hand in hand
nearly every single day
to missus munster’s
kindergarten class
reciting nursery rhymes
and interpreting clouds
and calling out flowers
by their given names


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

where o where can she be


I was born to live forever
cursed by the very gods
seeking to destroy eternity

why did I fall for such lies
constructed by warped minds
promising to ease my pain

it took a lifetime to find you
and now you are gone
like a ship passing through time


april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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