jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

summer of sixty-nine


so we were roaming out back at twilight
swigging orangeade and
swatting fireflies into oblivion with the
palms of our hands

someone from the inside yells
‘you leave them insects alone’
and we said
‘damn your eyes’
they got no place else to go

out in the open field
children run half naked
fearing for their lives
pretending to be fireflies
steering clear of predators
holding mason jars high




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sunflower


there’s this story I’ve told
ever since running away from home
and for whatever reason
it’s never grown old

oral traditions are alive and
well in so many cultures
but in my small space few listen
leading me to believe
my story will gradually fade

unexpressed emotions remain
buried underground but very much alive
skipping this season and
perhaps the next
one day breaching the surface
when least expected




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

back pocket


we keep planting seeds not knowing
what if anything will come out of the ground

sometimes we are pleasantly surprised
yet other times we chalk the results
up to luck of the draw

there is nothing charming about bad seeds
but somehow we learn to live with them

every so often I go back to the clinic
to have them tested
and each time they’re slightly different
the good doctor telling me
there is nothing wrong with change

given a clean bill of health
I bring home a new garden spade
hang it unceremoniously on the wall
a packet of wildflower seeds
shoved inside my back pocket




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the rise and fall of immigrant ants


after days of all night rains
black ants finally infiltrated the kitchen
weeks of planning coming to fruition
once the perfect storms rolled in
their triumphant march
short-lived in and around canisters
filled with flour and sugar
and assortment of teas
their massacre eventually swift
long to be remembered by those
repulsed of their presence
having neither program nor policy
on how to deal with their sudden arrival
and disturbing disappearance




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pulling me in


I don’t feel tired at all
(oh no not at all)
I’m feeling like a breaking wave
rushing toward ocean’s shoreline
angels singing by my side
clouds full of rain following above
waiting patiently for me to make landfall
destined to become nothing but a puddle
dying to be loved by the sun itself




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

summer rains and falling stars


stardust in the exosphere
older than the moon
purveyor of time
mysteriously coexisting
and quietly contributing
to the evolution of life

wayward meteors
breach the surface
children of the earth
pointing and marveling
saying look there goes
another shooting star

oh there she goes again
bringing with her
more ancient stardust
making it fall like rain
nourishing the very ground
we so heavily trod upon




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

soaring high by her side


he instinctively wants to feed her
but has no idea where to begin
unable to comprehend
if he should start with the seed
or pick the fruit from the vine

she understands him much better
than he knows himself
but does not say a word
instead focuses on cleansing
his shoreline by bringing
wave upon wave upon wave

she nourishes him subconsciously
sublimely feeding him music
soothingly repeating his name
weaving wildflowers in his mane

he dreams of cherry tomatoes
and purple grapes
widening his mouth like a starved fledgling
having no idea one day
he will be soaring high by her side




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

at the speed of light


skipping rocks in space
the flatter the better so they say
skimming along invisible waves
making wishes as they fade
light years away

where they finally wind up
nobody really knows
(except the creator)
perhaps as a collective of
gold-colored coins
deposited into a simple pot
strategically placed
at the end of an endless rainbow




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

surviving the winter without her


there were so many things to be said
but instead I lay silent
knowing that spring was here
that it could be the last

she loved wearing summer dresses
falling just below the knee
floral in pattern and ever so light
and when the sun hit just right
cast me back into one of her spells

by the time autumn arrives
her god-given powers faded southward
rendering me to my own devices
leaving me to decide for myself
how to survive another winter




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

emotional like the sea


sunrises come and go
climbing and dropping like clockwork
turning pale skin to red
and correcting failing vision

inside you is this acumen
as powerful as midday sun
dying to expose itself
for all the world to see

heartbeats ebb and flow
like half moon across midnight green
at mercy with the tides
and hoping not to die




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in search of flowers


out of thin air shallow breaths are born
giving life where there was once none
providing comfort to those who grieve
to those whose lives are in desperate
need of meaningful nurturing

burial grounds of once mighty empires
have long expired and recycled into
fields of grasses and wildflowers
articulated masterpieces of complexion
breathing quietly and free from harm




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

secrets between the moon and me


I wanted to share the early morning moon
but she was downright dead set against it
peeking and booing behind fog-like clouds
coming and going as swiftly as my footsteps

these early morning walks remind me
of my paperboy days some forty-five years ago
days seemingly much clearer in my mind
than those last week or month or half a score

back then I had no idea of things like hibiscus tea
or heart-shaped flowers colored in pink or white
but I was certain one day I would discover
there must be more to life than elegant frivolity




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

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