jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

first date


it’s surreal she said
and she wouldn’t move on
she just stayed there
mesmerized at the black
& red oval (maybe triangular) thing
that may or may not have been
a ladybug

it’s a ladybug I say
let’s move on

the hell she says
a ladybug
are you fucking serious
—okay I’ll catch up with you later





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

miracle of a blue moon


a sad moon waits
in the wings
the sinking sun
dissolving into
the black sea
— a passing of the torch
or the transitioning of power
from the mighty
to the mysterious
the latter making
men weep
women amassing
on the eastern horizon
bearing absolution





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

at the end of the drought


the act of attrition
not quite the same thing
a personal sort of process
when left talking
to yourself

it’s been as many years
as there are
days in the week
since my last obituary
ghostwritten of course
and predated
elsewhere in the clouds

I like to hang out there
when I’m at my lowest
knowing it’s a mere matter of time
before I fall down like rain
hours upon end





may two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

missing the ocean & the moon


out of nowhere a cat cries
and a squall comes to light
sudden hail & rainfall
winds sweeping away
the sweet sunshine

the whole town
drowned in alcohol
the news reporters unable
to get the story right
misunderstanding
the underlying premise
how the good graces would
have them flower again





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

from the book of an arsonist


shadows in the open field
keep running toward the sun
the hair of the ghosts
blowing in the opposite direction
courtesy of westerly gusts

these hills haven’t burned
for more than four centuries
old world ideas rekindling
the adjacent forest
ancient & anxious to impress

a collision is inevitable
the outcome undeterminable
ashes redefining themselves
by way of a circular wind
the scent of the air palpable





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

entering the dark moon phase


sometimes it’s about
not even trying
losing yourself like a leaf
loses its birthplace
only to discover
that the letting go
couldn’t have been
any easier

how easy is it for you
to fall to the ground
defenseless
at the mercy of the winds
of fire & rain
the everlasting moon
your only friend
giving & taking light

lightning crashes
dramatic randomness
will you be there
right on the spot
a specific place in time
is it a coincidence
or queer luck of the draw
determined at birth





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

the dream of the wildflower


the fire burns
but does not warm
& I find myself
digressing past oblivion
that place where dreams
replace realistic scenes
ones you’ve not seen
since the start of the
previous season

it was a temporary life
these wildflowers
wrapping them in damp
breathable cloth &
transported with haste
a few precious petals
secured inside
heart-shaped boxes
all others transplanted





february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

suffocation


crocodile clouds give way
to elephants marching
slowly into the horizon

at times they’re suffocating
pulled down by gravity
& one hundred one kite flyers

catch & release is the game
unable to tame the wild
send them back with fire & fury

what comes around stays
for maybe an eternity
or until the next near extinction





february two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

heaven on earth


don’t let current events get you down
the world has always been this violent

most of the time we pretend to be safe
in our homes behind locked doors

in the summer windows wide open
curtains waltzing freely
          and in the winter
we keep them shut
feline asleep on the narrow sill
basking in the sun

out of control wildfires
fueled by straight line winds
and hundreds of dream homes
alter the landscape and complicate
the notion of heaven on earth





january two thousand twenty-two
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

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

sheltering in the wood


the wind brought the robin’s
farewell song
briskly whistling through
the crabapple tree

high up in the sky
recycled machine parts
fall in a straight line fashion
picking up speed
but not disintegrating

the crabapple attracts
scores of robins
copping a buzz & chattering
like blue-haired biddies
at a mahjong tournament

no matter how fast
the wind blows westerly
it can’t forever prevent the sky
from crashing the party





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

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

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