jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

crouching in the outer limits


the first snow has come and gone
and I’ve nothing to show for it
except for a newly purchased spark plug
I’ve yet to replace in my snow blower

the first snow came and went
and I’ve yet to complete my autumn chores
simply because (once again) climate
change has caught me off guard

the first snow is certain to come
unpredictable like a lion
crouching in the outer limits
patiently waiting for a little something




november two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

beautiful are the fields


we’ve been here before
admiring this land of possibilities
minefields once again restored back to
their original condition
long before anyone ever set eye or foot
colorful fields described by word of mouth
to those who had no idea such beauty
existed in this contradictory world
descriptions eventually voice recorded
illustrated onto rock and paper and cloud
made especially for generations yet to come




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a brief visitor from the unknown


I want to be that comet [or whatever
you want to call it]
that the average person off the street
can’t even begin to pronounce

you may or may not know
what I’m talking about
but it doesn’t matter to any
rogue interstellar traveler
entering the milky way
hell bent on targeting the sun

imagine if you will
lost souls attached to its tail
long ago cast away to find inner peace
hanging on fearlessly
throughout countless galaxies
occasionally returning home
leaving those bound to the surface
mesmerized by its fleeting beauty




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

morning view


the clock has struck midnight
and here I remain
similar to yesterday’s self
but somehow slightly different
I can’t quite put my finger on

changing seasons once again
a battle between wind
and cricket and creation
a jealous crescent moon
simply an innocent bystander

I sit and wonder by the window
does anyone ever win
morning sun coming into view
colored pencils on cottony paper
attempting to capture it all




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

October Rising


Bring on the tenth month I say
images of monarch
and ruby-throated migrations
flashing before my eyes
nighttime baseball games
a staple in my foreseeable future
culminating with an enormous
harvest moon slowly rising

It’s the last hurrah you say
sitting cozily by the artificial fire
sipping hot tea from a tumbler
pointing at the Samsung
and dialing up a movie

I nod unconvincingly
retiring to the sunroom
pouring myself a pint of Guinness
reassured knowing
October is just the beginning




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

when dreaming of colors


the autumn equinox falls flat on my face
deep in dream state I am suddenly
wide awake
I sit up and attempt to determine
exactly what it is that woke me
and exactly where I might be

am I dead or am I alive
I wonder with uncertainty
bold numbers glowing in my peripheral
I turn and squint and see
it’s nearly three in the morning

I was dreaming of colors I say aloud
of the sunset and the moon’s shine
of the oak tree shedding its coat
atop the green green grass

yes I was dreaming beautifully
and you rudely awoke me
[mother nature or god or my own intuition]
less than sublimely reminding me
one day I will be the one who is falling




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

my iphone photo from 2011
my iphone photo from 2011

listening to the earth


it’s five a.m
my mind tells me so
having just replayed the reality
of melting glaciers
and rainforests set ablaze

a voice inside says
you can listen to the earth
and suddenly I am wide awake

I can hear the cold rain
pelting against the window pane
and for some reason
I’m afraid to open my eyes




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the garden reprised


we’ve done this before
making something out of thin air
whether simple words or complex webs
designed to bring us closer

the power of sleep brings forth
limitless possibilities
exposing past and future lives
such as the spider or the fly

at some point it stands to reason
why the trees have knowledge
and birds perpetuate folklore
why the snake in the green green grass
will one day be your best friend




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

ethereal like the fog


and so we stretch our limbs
turn our thoughts from solids to liquids
as if we are something more
than mere human

if you run fast enough
there’s a good chance taking flight
without wings or cape
nothing more than inner strength

oh how far we’ve come
from ocean to moor to rooftop
synthesizing plant with mineral
further projecting time




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

stirring the seed in the soil


it seems the trick is to feed your body
with specific types and amounts of oil
or so I’m learning there is more to nature
than leaf and flower and feather and bone

to the perfect alien we are one in the same
especially when viewed a million miles away
subtleties at best captured in a mirror
attached to a wall countless centuries ago

in the urban garden there is more to life
than surveillance and common temptations
abundance showing itself in spades
evident on low hanging vines and branches

folklore and concoctions openly compete
promoting cures and extending lives
nearly all sharing a simple solution
showing respect to the goodness of earth




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

make amends with you


an endless sky and sun so close
melting muscle into bone
stripping clothes from your back
surrendering to your natural self

you’ve taken to this task before
making amends with yourself
peeling one layer after another
sweeping dead skin into tin can

do not confuse the sun with fire
the latter of which burns man-made
objects to the ground
the other capable of recreating
your own ashes into something new




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

what have I become


how am I to follow suit
on such a sorrowful day
sun beating down so hard
keeping even ants
from working on the hill

he had died in my dream
countless times
but now that I’m older
than the dream itself
others may visualize
my youthful presence
as a mere memory

I never should have followed
irrational commands
disturbing the soil
where the earth god
works her timeless magic

what have I become
if not a shadow
of my former self
having shed thoughts
of those who made me
instead focused
on rebuilding hills I once
foolishly destroyed




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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