jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

just treats


strawberry sunrise
on a banana split sunday
titanium knives and red plastic spoons
furiously flashing atop cutting board counter
magically dishing out culinary happiness
one cool concoction at a time




november two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

beautiful are the fields


we’ve been here before
admiring this land of possibilities
minefields once again restored back to
their original condition
long before anyone ever set eye or foot
colorful fields described by word of mouth
to those who had no idea such beauty
existed in this contradictory world
descriptions eventually voice recorded
illustrated onto rock and paper and cloud
made especially for generations yet to come




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

transplanting poppy fields


I listened to the sad sad story
how the war had taken its toll
it left me wondering of the fields
and when they would ever bloom

the story never seems to end
borders constantly changing
women and children marching on
poppies pinned to their hearts




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

all of these horses


the explosion in the wildflower field
sent all the horses racing far beyond
the imaginary fence line
violently shaking the earth
these parts had not witnessed in
anyone’s lifetime
leaving the elderly trembling
and the little ones crying
making all the machinery within a
thousand mile radius inoperable
the only other mode of transportation
quickly dissolving into the dying sun




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on choosing friends and lesser gods


surrender not
neither to friend nor foe
rather carry on with purpose
for there is work yet to be done

listen not to nike nor nemesis
for neither are on your side
instead look inwardly
and find yourself




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lines of vision


for some reason
stitch and sew
repeats in my mind
like a child’s doll
eyes wide open
looking past
the lonely horizon

those loose ends
eventually tear open
momentarily
put back together
surgically restoring
lines of vision
and seamless smiles




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lesson number one


are you talking to me
in syllables never making sense
blowing raspberries
and shaking about
like a fart in a frying pan

you came into this world
rather unexpectedly
cries and stretches and smiles
demanding everything
and nothing at the same time




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reflections and back


from the potters ground angels surface
stretching their newfound wings
and joining the early morning choir

fear not the voices inside your head
they’ve been put there for a reason

moon and stars will eventually fall
from an endless watercolor sky
once filling your expanding mind




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

fruit of the vine


your imagination started
long before creation
inspired by compositions
streaming through space

emerging from the dark
you selectively choose
what comes naturally
like the ripest apples
hanging on the vine





june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

theory of a black hole


birth is like a microscopic bang
transmitting near-silent primal waves
quickly creating its very own tiny galaxy

struggles elapse in the background
ongoing and inaudible to the human mind
unmistakable to the almighty creator

to what degree the energy advances
is an invaluable period of time
[no matter the linear length]
from the very start to infinitesimal finish





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

keep america beautiful


I’ve not kept pace with current
events or the latest trends
their importance taking a back seat
to larger issues begging explanation
such as the meteoric rise of trigger happy maniacs
unleashing a wave of unforgiving tipping points
turning my little corner of the world
into something other than beautiful





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

once there was a way


do not confuse my words with reality
they are conjured at night while my eyes
are rapidly interpreting current events
sometimes seizing the moment
like a champion in the ring
other times adrift at sea
neither lost nor found
but diligently tracking familiar stars
eventually finding my way back home





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

unsolved and theoretical


there’s nothing mysterious about your
inner instincts
how they sometimes take complete
control of your thought pattern
and subsequent actions
leaving you wondering in the end
exactly how you got from
point A to point B
in a matter of mere milliseconds





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

haiku rocketman


glass door opening
calming voice beckoning me
time to move forward

map on other side
unfolded and revealing
cosmic traveling

escort in red cap
accepting one-way ticket
handing back the stub

rocketship rumbling
buckling in for final ride
counting down from ten




february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pausing on such thoughts


give me time to dwell and I will bring you
flowers from the farthest reaches
to lands our dreams most surely take us

there are places beyond the imagination
and if you give me time to dwell
I will describe them in fantastic detail

never forego the passion of rediscovery
and life will reward you one hundred fold
this I am sure after taking the time to dwell




february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

when it rains


there is precipitation in the sky
improvising as falling ice
pinging partially-filled glasses
and producing magical notes
music piped into the city square
unexpected dancers sporting umbrellas
smiling under artificial light
twisting and twirling and portraying
life as a grand affair




february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

little lambs on the run


we pushed through the crowds
on a sunday morning
parting the layers of worshipers
basking in the sunlight
hoping for a final glimpse
what may lay on the other side

a scattering of us lived on
forever hand in hand
snaking through the spirited mob
as if we always existed
intention in our eyes
and redemption in our hearts




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

strength in numbers


to be misunderstood
that is a common occurrence
among the masses
treading through the streets of life
unnoticed and mostly lost
but there is strength
beneath the prevailing current
an uprising brewing [so to speak]
on these forsaken streets
bound and determined
to return life to the dying
and a fresh voice to all those
willing to move forward




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a song for the dead


I keep telling myself I’m not afraid
repeating the phrase as if it’s my mantra
each letter embossed on my skin
images of hearts etched in my mind

I tell myself I’m no longer afraid
to fall asleep in the dead of night
grateful to have found my voice
relieved knowing I finally have a song




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the law of attraction


I surrender to the wind
like a kite without a tether
sailing across a sea of change


I’ve been in love before
but this time it was too late
for you see I simply drifted past
the pulling of the tides
becoming closer to the moon
than anything else




december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

striking a balance


autumn nearing its end
solitary specter regressing
roaming empty streets and alleys
digressing on thoughts of love
bemoaning intellectual wisdom

safehouses have no vacancy
full moon gives little solace
though somewhere in the city
a fire burns with purpose
bringing the dead back to life




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

clearing the way


new moon held in cupped hands
like a wounded fledgling
feeling powerless
yet slowly warming
to this idea of finally flying free

trusting the process is not easy
for anything grounded
nevertheless you uncup
your trembling hands
observing the sky in a new light




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

house sparrow


they come and they go
these brown and grey passerines
small and plump and
multiplying throughout millennia
successfully occupying six continents
including continuously subletting
caramel corn tin house
inconspicuously hanging
outside my window




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

off the charts


it’s not like you haven’t dived deep before
searching for treasure or love or knowledge
your mind unfocused and wandering
occasionally skyrocketing

you’ve scouted for places to rest your head
you’ve loved and lost time and time again
unload any notion of second guessing
brace yourself and securely strap in




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Making Buttons


Tongue stuck out and twisting
Pepsi bottlecap between thumb and forefinger
pocket knife in other
spooning out the corking from the metal

The rounded cork disappears
inside the T-shirt
reunited with the bottlecap
between the fabric




nineteen ninety-seven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

inner city haiku baseball


full moon with stitches
off-white and slowly revolving
like a knuckleball

in the alleyways
pick-up games start at daybreak
broomsticks and duct tape

tying run at plate
runners at every corner
bus driver pitching

final shot arcing
sailing over skyscrapers
shooting for the moon




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

calm before the storm


every so often they visit
bursts of faint light
appearing and diffusing in a
matter of mere minutes
figments of my imagination
flirting with my night vision
reminding me my earthly days
continue to count down
right before my very eyes




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

life again


I left the city for fields of goldenrod
painted by many artists over the years
fresh in my mind for reasons I cannot explain

if I had stayed I’d surely be dead by now
having fallen to the atrocious ills of society
either by murder or apparent suicide

I am far from home but closer to reality
like the shepherd is to his flock
like a mother to her newborn




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lying low


I’ve been waiting for low tide since daybreak
barefoot and hardly any place to go
save further into the well

red sky is but a memory I’ve long locked in
ever since I’ve been able to cry

tears eventually turn to celebrations
thrown by mere mortals
choosing times and places
your spirit is certain to be lying low




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

beyond the veil of illusion


just sitting here drinking a beer
pocket knife and block of wood in hand
carving new notches in a made-up world
my worrisome thoughts going deep
unable to return to safety of shallow waters

from inside the house I barely hear
radio broadcasting inconsistent streams
coexisting with my troubled mind
carving deeper against the grain
steadily drifting along muted current




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

station to station


I found myself repeatedly moving the dial
clapping randomly at small somethings
flying in my face
sent in one by one by some
strange god testing my mid-summer mettle
uninterested in my inner well-being
let alone my outwardly comical countenance
instead secretly intercepting frequencies
concocting far worse consequences
involving matters of life and death




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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