jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

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

the gathering


the spirits in the apple orchard
gathered after dusk
one by one placing fallen apples
into their wicker baskets


it was a moonless night
and the children in the farmhouse
were looking out their bedroom window
mesmerized at the faintest of light
flickering amongst the trees





december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

vagrancy


a foreigner with wings
surveying the land
the upper air icy cold
crystalized by the sun


they say the invader
is merely a wanderer
having arrived in peace
& perhaps to die here





december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

toying with infinity


a change of scenery
isn’t that what it’s all about
four or five seasons
rotating in & out of your life
commingling &
at times digressing
fast-forwarding supersonically
daydreaming & transcribing
without actually going
anywhere in particular





december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

something like poetry


idling on tokyo avenue
waiting for the light to turn green
boston blaring from coaxial speakers
back in the summer of seventy-nine

it’s easy to misremember
exactly how everything
went down in the day
but the music
that’s another story entirely
always open to interpretation





december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

desert sky


we sang with the coyote
their desert song
in the darkness of a
moonless night

do not be sad my love
although the song may fade
the stars are certain
to align again





december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

micrometeorite


I understand there’s a second moon
orbiting crazily the planet earth
nothing like the luna we’ve come to love & idolize
but more like a rock
one that you hold in your hand
making it either warmer or cooler
throwing away as high & as far as you like
wondering if it will ever come back





november two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

with winter in mind


a full frost moon
rises & grows & shines
through the leafless elms
yawning & stretching
toward the opposite horizon
a dark red sky
overtaking cirrus clouds
gradually fading
into a deep purple
succumbing to the night





november two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

seven colours


dressing in moods requires
an extensive wardrobe

consider the rainbow
(for example) she says
on the surface only seven colours
but if you possess enough ambition
can easily be turned into countless
ambiguous amalgamations





november two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: