jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

inner sanctuary


it’s impossible to hear the spoken word
when the rains fall so hard
killing the song
making good intentions just plain wrong

these eyes find light in the strangest places
sitting alone in the dark room
conversing within
making up stories without lies or deceit

walking in broken shoes on crushed stone
I listen for the least sound
signals from the sun
still images of havens inside the wasteland



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

How they arrived with clarity and force


Lightning strikes on Miller’s farm
and days later
everything is gone

Are you sure it was natural
everyone seemed to ask
or could it have been an arrow
directed by an angry god

Local preachers try to explain
to congregations of none
exactly what didn’t happen

Meanwhile earth moving machines
continually roll in from far away places



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

when north became south


you lost me when I wasn’t looking
like a silver dollar vanishing
via sleight of hand

when the poles switched
nearly everyone became displaced
like foreigners held
hostage inside their own homes

those less fortunate were
forced to learn a new language
whether it be spoken or not

in the city center they hung
disobedient juveniles
upside down by the ankles
shaking the contents from their britches
making all the little ones appear out of nowhere
like cockroaches scrambling on all six



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

skipping stones across the surface


there is more to this than scrambling
from one life to the next
deciding who wins and what memories
are worth replaying time and again

the rocks by the water are flatter
than the ones on the hill
but both have surrendered to their fate
indestructible forces that they are

when your calls for help go unanswered
you may need to look elsewhere
though perhaps it’s wiser to lay low
and let patience be your friend

one day the tulips will rise oh so belatedly
delayed by a recent avalanche
covering the ground like an afghan blanket
neither suffocating nor impenetrable



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

while trees are falling down


I saw some poetry while walking in the woods
but it quickly scurried away like a frightened ghost

did you see that I asked myself but I did not respond
determined to take a course unbeknownst to anyone

blood flows through my veins on borrowed time
at one within a place where hollow trees rise and fall

convinced there is no way out other than from within
I slow down my pace and surrender to the sound



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how blue is your heart


stained glass hearts
tarnished over time
void of even the faintest
hint of crimson on the
brightest of summer days

on occasion lonely hearts
glisten back to life
slowly reaching out on the
clearest of nights at a
bulging moon turning blue



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Note: this poem is linked to Crow’s Open Mic Invitation

the philosopher’s playground


the ground trembled beneath bare feet
like an audible sigh from a troubled mind

even the birds paused their morning song
shifting to interpret the mother’s warning

exhausted yet incapable of finding comfort
relaxation eludes the weariest travelers

though peace on earth may one day prevail
the natural order of things indicate otherwise



february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

shadows like black masses


canopy of trees protective yet penetrable
all night rains enriching the underworld


three or four children noisily passed by
and I turned from one side to the other
as they placed stone markers near my feet

I heard one say this place should be
buried in snow
which of course made me laugh
(if only that were possible)

they continued to arrange the markers
until they were satisfied with the pattern

little did they know that their ritual
awakened an age-old spirit
and as I rose from the earth into the misty air
all they could do was run and scream



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pacifying ancient waves


it’s getting late
midwinter
the cold more than snow
wearing on me
like the moon
weighs on the ocean

the gods tell me
life is long
but there’ll be no spring
so I accept
the premise
and shift my focus

southern sun sings
lullabies
shushing darkened clouds
transforming
extreme thoughts
into peaceful waves



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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