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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

way too soon


anything is possible
how many times have you heard this
much like
the sky’s the limit
but that doesn’t make sense
this day & age
just go ask any child
who may effortlessly tell you
the sky’s only the beginning
especially if you’ve happened
to be gunned down way too young





june two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

On the home team’s starting pitcher


“You’ve got to have an attitude if you’re going to go far in this game.”
                                                                                         Bob Gibson

He’s gotta keep ‘em off balance
using his head as well as his arm
mixing it up north & east
and west & south
consistently changing speeds
—letting the ball fly from various
release points
and mostly importantly
never showing them
the whites of his eyes





june two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

song of the dead


the complete destruction
of the inner self
man-made annihilation of the
third kind
on the verge of reinvention
of inner thought
of stillness & water & ash
a private practice
a near death experience





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

miracle of a blue moon


a sad moon waits
in the wings
the sinking sun
dissolving into
the black sea
— a passing of the torch
or the transitioning of power
from the mighty
to the mysterious
the latter making
men weep
women amassing
on the eastern horizon
bearing absolution





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

telescoping an itinerary


I ain’t got much left
my body battery drained
& according to my wearable
I’ve only so many days
yet to live

it’s not exactly
information overload
I’m just searching the stars
trying to decode
my next resting place





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

In Oklahoma not Arizona


            — for David W Lodge

Dave’s hot dog stand
the only thing
standing
between progress
& a Five Star Hotel
selling only the finest grub
in downtown Tucson





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on a sunday late afternoon


late afternoon light
occasionally slipping in
between breezes
competing with floor lamps
an occasional flicker of artificiality
& other LED devices

to say it’s a gray day
isn’t really saying much
I mean isn’t it the light from within
that truly matters most





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

she’s going to change the world


            She can do anything at all
            Have anything she pleases

                                     —Chris Cornell

there’s all this talk
about simplicity & minimalism
reducing if not eliminating
mishaps & miscues
shedding thoughts of excess
and gaining intellectual insights
for no other reason
than to let the world know
that she can’t be changed





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

you’re my favorite song


I’ve been told it’s okay
to talk to yourself
as long as you’re not replying
reminding me of Springsteen
singing about
not looking into
the eyes of the sun
because oh Mamacita
that’s where the fun is





april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

post winter volunteer


an uninvited guest
how can there be such a thing
a girl of color no less
her face velvety & somewhere
between blue & violet
the color of radiance trapped
inside her eyes
as if she was born yesterday





april two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

it’s sunday night & I don’t know what to say


in the kitchen I keep a jar filled with words
but for the past few days it’s been empty
and I can’t seem to do the math
to have it refilled again

though he’s not been seen for days
I’ve been told curiosity (the cat) is alive & well
hanging out on the west side

maybe he’s the reason things are off-kilter
and if only he’d return
the world would simply right itself





february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

no man’s land


where has the queen gone
now that war has broken out
does she dare show her face
in person let alone the air waves
or will she remain in the shadows
laying low like a commoner

they say the opposing forces
are invisible like the wind
moving in & out of the kingdom
like a knight without a country
picking & choosing allegiances
one war-torn city at a time





february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Feeling uninspired


A one two three
getting going again
stomping our feet
fingers snapping
embedded within claps
Delores’ bluesy voice
bringing it back home





february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

digging


there is this hope
that exists all on it’s own
and sometimes
we understand it
like there’s no tomorrow
and other times
it’s the most elusive thing
in the world
like a pearl in a locket
buried in the past





february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in the dead of winter


I’m on the fence again
like a crow at the county’s edge
contemplating his next move

winter lasts forever here
sunlight bouncing off the white carpet
and back into space

I’m not much for small talk
and the pace can’t get much slower
thoughts frozen in time

inside beside the burning fire
a notebook & sharpened pencils
whispering my name





january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

tomorrow


it’s broken
you can’t fix it
my vision cannot
correct itself on a dime


I’ve been hitchhiking
for what seems
like a century
every morning
finding myself in line

they say there is a god
that can fix your
temporary ailments
even though I say
tomorrow is already here





january two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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