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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

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

after the last day of april


it’s the first of may and all I have left
is this desire to sleep and
witness ruby-throated hummingbirds
feasting upon the flowers



may day two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

working through the off-season


she stitched and sewed all winter long
meticulously
almost feverishly
covering cork and rubber and yarn with
whatever kind of hide she could find
having promised her boys of summer
the only way they would not play ball
would be due to the most severe
inclement weather



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the beautiful and the silent


she arrived unannounced
redirected from an unknown god
breaching the exosphere without a sound

though coming to life by starlight
she disguised herself as human
finding solace within her own garden

as time passed the ground flourished
showcasing colors never before seen
reshaping the landscape of a parallel world



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

by the time spring arrived reality set in


the king’s inner circle sent away men on horseback
to sow the seeds of forgiveness

it was the first of its kind and unbiased officials say
they are planting courageous ideas

before winter set in the horsemen sought comfort
slightly below the earth’s surface
solving religious conflict through peaceful uprisings



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

i am the truth and you are the light


the forwardness of the day
and the unpredictability of the night
carries on in perpetual motion
like a universe continually unfolding
sparking the purest electricity
out of the tiniest of matter



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

out here in the fields


we can pretty much do anything
out here in the fields
except piss on concrete buildings
or turn boxcars into artwork

the bus driver went one way
while the rest of us went another
confident the slender moon would
never lead us astray



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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