jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

archaeological dig


somewhere along the beaten path
rare earth elements are spotted
here and there
haphazardly discarded by
downright dirty rotten scoundrels

little aliens scurry in the shadows
having adopted stretches
along the way
stuffing recyclables into sacks
refurbishing trash into shiny trinkets

all skyscraper trees eventually fall
their treasure imperially at risk
that is to say
having crashed and imploded
only to be mined many lifetimes later





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

waiting for you there


you dig stones out of the earth
as if they are potatoes
stuffing them into a sack

once filled you sling them
over your shoulder
make the short trek
down to nearby stream

children of all ages follow you
along the way
one by one
and two by two they get in line
some holding hands
some chatting and some not
all fully aware what’s
inside the burlap

once at the water’s edge
all becomes quiet except
for the stream itself
speaking a language you
have learned to accept over time

the children watch in silence
as you fall to your knees
dipping and cleaning
and handing out
one stone after another





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

interpretive footpath


bluegrass nature trail
brings back ancient memories
sometimes green and
sometimes slightly snow-covered
always surrounded by
black-capped chickadees
zip-lining happily between oak trees
chatting noisily and
encouraging all to follow
skyscraper shadows
stretching all the way back
to prehistoric wetlands





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

healing power of venom


she called me baby
like spider said to butterfly
giving pause for thought
and endless possibilities

youthful wings grow tired
folding in and suspended
giving into paralyzing sting
and singing in my sleep





january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

down below peace ebbs and flows


winter stars have long moved on
replaced by tin soldiers
recaptured and rehabilitated
forced to wear bold
and vibrant colors
and pledge allegiance to the queen

eastern front is nowhere to be found
come february
not without a rifle and bayonet
nor any working instrument
allowing you to chart
new stars unveiling new gateways

boundary waters gradually thaw
making moon appear
much more liquid and palatable
racing across land by day
seven seas by night
everchanging like an adversary





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

stars of bethlehem


all the universe is about to change
turning nothing into something
you’ve never seen before

make a wish upon a star
this one and the next
rising over your shoulder
giving you a kiss

it’s like a candle
dancing in the wind
flickering high and
simmering low
bending below the horizon
only to reverse direction
soaring timelessly
beyond its own apex





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

earth wind and fire


men at work with picks & shovels
unseen in the cemetery
some working ditches
others tape-measuring rectangular
holes in the ground

the youngest and strongest
roll boulders from river’s bank
straight up to monks and artisans
stationed atop copperhill

chisels and files and sandpaper
further refine godly physiques
resurrecting new life from the fire
that never stops burning





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

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