jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

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

accepting the air we breathe


the remedy is closer
than you think
though it seems to pass you by
undetected like an unseen
seductive glance

your god is a jealous one
though you’ve learned to accept that
needlessly questioning
her inconsistent suggestions

it would do you well to consider
the road less traveled
next time you set off on foot
clearing the mind
and patiently engaged
for the answer lies
somewhere in the wind



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

look out for that root


it’s awful lonely in this box
but the beauty of it is
you can hear everything

the first thing I’m gonna do
when I break out
is move that hazelnut bush
away from the fence

roots seem to all ball up
and intermingle endlessly
when they got no place to go
but thanks to the spade
nothing ever stays
quite the same
from this season to the next



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

at one with the earth


they huddle around the fire
the little ones in front
wrapped in animal hides
and mesmerized by the flames

black and bedazzled
is the sky
spotlighting
exhalations of storytellers
reading from unwritten books

soundless nights accentuate
the reality of dreams
projecting and protecting
the history of a people
at one with the earth



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

creation by association


candles burn where I am not
reminding me what may have been

in my little world it is quite dark
at times taking on many shapes
other times simply murmuring

I reach out and bring in pieces
from out of nowhere
meld them together in my palms
first into a ball and
then into whatever fascinations
may gradually evolve

inside each molded piece
an ember burns
invisible to the naked eye

I’ve no idea how many weeks
may pass before revealing themselves
perhaps like a seedling
breaking the surface
or a renegade meteor
breaching an otherwise impregnable sky



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a streetcar with no name


the sun won’t rise for a couple
hours more
but already the roads
are snow-covered above
and icy below

in most neighborhoods
the morning paper never arrives
and to anyone
daring to venture outside
experiences soft wood burning
and blackbirds squawking

up and down the streets
automobiles idle in driveways
or along curbsides
warming up to new ideas

(earlier a deadly accident
occurs on a lonely street corner)

you cannot hear it
nor can you sense it
you cannot even fathom it
until it slowly disseminates into the air
over a relatively short period of time



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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