jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

paper snowballs


I’ve nothing to rip out of the roller
no paper to scrunch into a ball
and toss across the room

it’s snowing outside and paper
angels hang out on treetops
watching boys and girls throwing
snowballs at any moving target

gas fireplace glows unnoticed
its blower distributing warmth
as far as it possibly can
touching blanket
a quiet breath
late evening long exhausted

meanwhile I sit in same place
far away from the light
banging upon keyboard
desperating attempting to transmit
wondrous words into
thunderous snow clouds





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

before fading back into darkness


squarish hole in middle of garden
is walled with various sizes of
rectangular-shaped stones
stones once used as steps leading
to abandoned gazebo atop the hill
but now separating earth from fire

sparrows and wrens tend to garden
while cardinals and jays perch in pines
all unafraid of smoldering hole
as long as night is far

patio blocks geometrically encase
black hole in summer garden
introducing spiral pathways
transgressing divergently in circular fashion
exposing and unfolding new life
suspended in color and contrasting light





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

forever in a day


know this day will come and you will
live in peace

be mindful of everything around you
and you will find peace within yourself

there is comfort within the forest of your soul
where trees grow tall and all the animals
on this earth live in harmony

you are the root and the tree and the leaf
the fruit that grows bright and fades
only to return season after season

you are mindful of all things around you
and you protect them when they need protecting
and comfort them when they are lonely

be in love with the morning sun
the noonday sun
and the setting sun

come to know the moon and you will know
yourself better than anyone
and by doing so
will come to understand there is a need
for all things living

there is peace in this day
just as there is peace in all the days that follow





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

when all we have is candlelight


these usual twists and turns
are nothing but sunshine
coming and going as she pleases
celebrating your finest achievements
exposing your greatest fears

exactly how she arrived here
is nobody’s business
but she’s not about to go anywhere
which is more than most of us can say
on any sunny morning

it’s hard to tell what time it is
on a cloudy afternoon
sunshine merely a recent memory
dancing inside elusive daydreams
luring you way past midnight





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

jailbreak


covertly they were collecting doves
over a thirty day period
rounding them up like common criminals
caged in underground cells

there were marches in streets
and scuffles in alleyways
pigeons and geese and sparrows
fleeing the city
lest they too be taken into custody

on the outskirts of town
swallow-tailed kites and red-shouldered
hawks circle high overhead
co-conspiring to take out the sheriff
now that all hell has broken loose





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

looking in through revolving door


back of my hands are cold
I shiver at the thought of death
creeping on me invisibly
he dares not show his face
knowing I won’t go easily

temptation placed on hold
insulated from princely wrath
replaced by deceit and trickery
dancing in sweet embrace
revolving throughout eternity



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

to return as rose of any color


this place runs like a machine
or so weary migrants are told
especially when those in charge
are nowhere to be found

during downtimes god relaxes
inside art studio painting blue skies
high above snowy mountaintops
or conjuring up deadly vortices
tormenting defenseless islands
and populated coastlines

there are plenty of places to hide
but nowhere to run
unless of course getting
caught in the action
is all you have in mind

who will pick me up when I fall
or better yet
toss me back into the machinery
so that I may try one more time





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

digging up dirt on a sunday afternoon


I wasn’t looking for anything
which was the whole point

out of the blue I discovered the knowledge
I thought I had acquired over the years
has been with me all along

year by year and one by one
I give up that which was given to me
whether I had wanted it or not
whether I had loved it
or hated it
or felt entirely indifferent toward it

there is truth and there is trust
neither quite like the other
but both touchable and tastable
as fleeting as death itself

and so when I am busily digging
not looking for anything in particular
I find myself uncovering
that which is worth dying for





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

alive and well at twenty-one


she came to visit for a few hours
on a sunday afternoon

it was a blustery but sunny day
wind chimes sounding off loud and clear
inside toasty sunroom

she got up from the sofa
holding teacup below her chin
gazing out south facing windows

“it’s a shame your garden’s dying
it was so beautiful last time I was here”

(to her everything is dying so I just let it go)

I didn’t have the heart to tell her
the garden turned twenty-one this year
and is very much alive and well





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

turning clouds into monsters


november monsters hide behind october bushes
their passive aggressive breathing giving rise
to a once low lying morning fog

there is passion beyond the hills
if you can ever get past progressive barriers
whether physically constructed or simply imagined

shallow heartbeats gradually acquire momentum
approaching like a lackadaisical thunderstorm
clapping along a spacious prairie

of course you’ve been here before
countless times either in this world or the next
perhaps ages ago when monsters could be trusted



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

telephone lines


they spoke to one another by way of make-believe telephone lines
not at all like two tin cans connected by a piece of string
stretching from easter island to omnipresent moon

blessed is she who shakes off advances and terms of endearment
instead recognizing all the misfits on the receiving end
reinventing children’s games with wild abandon

and of course with wild abandon comes boisterous laughter
speeding faster than sound through those make-believe lines
the ones stretched from sea to belly of waning gibbous



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

agrarian muses and snow-covered ponds


how your angels sing the blues
atop tarnished ivory arches
interrupting your dreams by
bringing back consciousness

it’s just one more morning waking
up to sunshine and isolation
a single spot on google earth
a farmhouse
a mile in from gravel road aptly
named rabbit run

though unsure how you arrived
you’ve no intention of straying far
and on days to come find yourself
roaming fields in dead of winter
not a soul around for miles
and miles and miles



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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