jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

clouds as white as elmer’s glue


it’s october again
we start talking about pumpkins
and apple orchards

two miles from the highway
gravel road
sure to make an impact

on this life & the next
a sort of roadmap
linking the planet earth

to some place
we’ve not yet visited
a remote fortress if you will

far from all the madness
happening inside a spinning top
colored ocean-blue & elmer’s glue





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

the reprise of autumn


at some point I will return
& nothing will be as it seemed

highway 52 has since turned green
all the way from cinnamon roll hill
past the flourishing hamlet of saint donut

the river still runs through everything
creating new veins along the way
mainly thanks to the passage of time
existing in the imagination

the rust on the rocks
have long dusted themselves off
& artificial creations
once made to be transparent
have returned to their original
peacock-like colors





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

The Accident


There are no conclusions
only a somewhat consistent restarting
of forward motion


When you die you may hop aboard
The Accident
commuter train filled beyond capacity
traveling ten times the speed
of her nearest competitor

Anyone lucky enough to step inside
will never want to leave
and those who accidentally get thrown
will mysteriously become a failed
star or a forever satellite





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

Catching Poetry by Sunlight


No matter how many times
the story changes
we can never quite make it
out of the woods


Subtle messages
slip through the treeline
by way of sunlight

If we’re lucky we’ll catch
a few more lines
from Snyder or Whitman
or Mary Oliver

And so we listen
with our hearts
& our minds
attempting to capture
that which is given





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

Looking for Christopher Robin


for Aubrey Jean Mayer

We start naming things
out of the clear blue sky
that oak tree is a monkey spider
the park bench
a Tyrannosaurus Rex

I tell you I’m older than those
hills like white elephants
but you shake your head
and say no way
and I say yes way
and you say no way Jose

She says she loves
puzzles & trains whistles
and I say yes I know
walking hand in hand
further inside the
Hundred Acre Wood





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

the quiet earth


the ocean pulls back
& the moon
wanes
unattended smoldering
slowly advancing


call it a slow burn
if you will
call it a cleansing
a purging
fire on the water
strangely inviting

the earth has never
been this quiet
the airwaves nearly vacant
except for what
the stars
& the quasars giveth




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

lost in late june


it’s late but not that late
the sun nowhere in sight
little ones out back yelling
where did it go
where did it go


nobody knows where the
butterflies went
chased away by roman candles
someone did say
someone did say

lost in deep thought
trapping stars in glass jars
smaller than fireflies
falling from the sky
falling from the sky




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

outside of the foothold


mushroom hunting & collecting
stones on a sunny
sunday morning

the river runs through this place
you can hear it from
a mile or so away
you can feel it in your veins
your eyes gradually
become clearer

the stones go in the satchel
the mushrooms
in a bucket
luckily either are easier to find
this time around

some of the trails have
started to fill in from lack of
human footsteps
this place slowly becoming
scarier than it seems




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

tripping on a wire


we’re going back to nature
cooking up our own microdoses
bringing our senses back to life

the city is finally far away
having left by way of high wire
after arriving looking up
to my old-time friends
teaching me to breathe (again)

there is much to be found
at eye level & on hands & knees
recipe in tow
& delicate ingredients
at my fingertips




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

one thing leads to another


let me see
let me gather my thoughts
like I gather flowers in the garden
one precise cut at a time


there is something on my mind
it lingers like a ghost
on the shady side of the garden
I sit & wait for it to edge closer

some days are easier
than others
that is widely known
and those that are not
drop hints & clues along the way
a subtle progression
that keeps me wanting more




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

something borrowed & blue


the bluebells were transplanted
long ago & they’ve been through
their ups & downs

you could say they were borrowed
and never returned
living & dying lo these many years
sometimes posing
other times shying away
as if not caring to be seen




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

here I come again


march unleashed the lion
and suddenly everyone
started breathing again

it won’t be long though
before she’s dead & gone
naturally replaced by
wildflowers & pollinators




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

white lantern


how do I go from here
now that the waxing gibbous
is nearly full
stealing my thoughts
and making me motionless

she is a glorious pale melon
rising above the whiteness
that is winter
saying look at me look at me
I am as cold as cold can be

bright like a lantern
on a visibly cloudless night
she exposes my
somber & aimless thoughts
my body warm & spellbound




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

perennial favorites


how many have you killed
through no fault of your own
or brought back to life
with your own hands


each & every one adorable
in their own peculiar way
like a rescue dog
or adopted child
blindly trusting
in your god-like eyes

no thanks to you
they grow stronger year
after year
especially once
seeing them through
the worst of times




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

to the flowers of the forest


I’ve confronted death before
or was it vice versa
I do not recall

I remember being unafraid
and to the trees surrounding me
I said you will be my witness

then the north wind did blow
aiding me to my feet
and it was at that moment
I began to understand
the silence of the woods

the heart never truly heals
it simply seeks to regenerate
like the flora of the forest




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the standing dead


they may be dead by definition
but on all other terms
provide growth opportunities
for termites & beatles & ants
molds & mildews & mushrooms

the attraction is powerful
creatures with or without wings
drilling & boring & hammering
building new homes from scratch
or renovating abandoned ones

grey ghosts now centuries old
skyscrapers taller than ever
actively contributing
to the smorgasbord of life
perhaps more vital than before




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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