jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Nature”

26 Oct 2016

dancing on white sand


there was a number
maybe there were two or three
that when put together
added up to something
like an old fashioned love song

half notes and quarter notes
bounce off amphitheater rooftops
drifting into the cloudless sky
slowly dissolving like helium
balloons and unbridled kites

spiders and bears and
little tea kettles crawl through
open backlit space
giving chase to new ideas
dying to be composed

they say the song lives on
riding falling stars
content with returning to earth
surfing atop ocean waves
seeking a brand new dance floor



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
18 Oct 2016
8 Comments

what happens here may not stay here


inside your walk-in closet you keep
a wooden bowl atop your dresser
filled past the brim with little things
little tidbit kinds of things that have little
to no value like bottlecaps and matchbooks
rubber bracelets and key chains
a deck of the tiniest of cards you’re
quite sure has played solitaire

sometimes you imagine a little spider
lives inside the tidbit of things
milling about mostly in the dark
but occasionally coming out on afternoons
to unwind atop the deck of cards
basking in the filtered light
leaking through diamond-shaped openings
that really aren’t here nor there



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
17 Oct 2016
3 Comments

it’s a long way to where I’m going


there is nothing ever new
it has always been there before
whether it be spaceships or dinosaurs

to be or not to be
give me liberty or give me death
what are they but bold proclamations
made by multitudes (of men)
long before recorded history

there is this cumulation of sorts
that continually runs on autopilot
where storms and wars become
even more powerful
nature against man
man against nature (and man)
relentlessly pounding
worldwide peace movements
that somehow flourish surrealistically
century after century

it’s a long way to where I’m going
but chances are once I get there
nobody will ever know



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , , ,
07 Oct 2016
8 Comments

like no tomorrow


my inner clock
wakes me when
I am tired
reminds me to take
pictures of my past
whether or not I’ll ever
revisit them

napping on couch
sunrays creep inside
my cobweb dreams
shaking them
making my eyelids flutter

photographs flash
frame after frame
like an accelerating
motion picture
the sun hardly
visible on bright canvass
falling rapidly like a
comet with no tomorrow



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
01 Oct 2016
8 Comments

breathing back to life


it was a shapely leaf
seemingly frozen on the asphalt
burnt orange and brown
with spots of faded yellow
and streaks of barn red

I happened upon it strictly
by accident as I crawled
on my hands and knees
searching for a place to sleep
through the dead of winter

picking it up carefully
I cupped it gently in my hands
cold to the touch like the
thinnest of glass
fragile like fairy wings

as it warmed in my palms
I blew on its outer edges
its unforgiving blades shuddering
like a little baby bird
or a big colorful butterfly



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , ,
29 Sep 2016
4 Comments

white flags and civil wars


it’s only a matter of time
before the next city gets sacked

it could be yours whether or not
you like being alive or dead

you could be sitting in a mosque
or a church or a temple
or in a gazebo in a meadow
or on a deck overlooking a lake
or out on the river fishing for trout
or out on the sea fishing for men
or inside a corner tavern
open for business on any given sunday

everywhere there are people
inhabiting this place
putting two and two together
questioning the laws of nature
ninety-nine plus percent certain
killing has nothing to do with survival



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Fishing, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , ,
18 Sep 2016
12 Comments

the dragonfly’s calling


stitch and sew
your restless eyes
dragonfly hovers
keeping its cool

no bark no bite
mandibles chew air
swallowing suggestions
blown by the wind

water nymph no more
final metamorphosis
captures soul mate
perpetuating the cycle



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
11 Sep 2016
4 Comments

hell freezes over


we can’t seem to get past
talking about the weather
how it lifts us up only
to tear us down
one day sipping apple-spiced tea
at café eden
the next trapped inside a
bomb shelter in aleppo

I say the weather is earth’s
spirit restless in its own creativity
slowly evolving and forever changing

you nod and look skyward
pointing at the clouds
roiling and attracting countless starlings

seeds affected by cosmic precipitation
you never know what may come next
perhaps a prophet or a prince
or a torrid dictator

ruthless storms continuously stir
inside boiling pots
reappearing as easy as they please
perpetuating change by destroying
everything in its path


september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , ,
28 Aug 2016
4 Comments

flying beyond the coastal meadow


he licked his thumb and stuck it
directly overhead
his eyes rolled back and calculating

and just then a wheatear
sitting atop a stone wall
takes to flight
leading the way

tiny feet trampled upon the greenest
of the greenest grass
at least three feet tall
tiny legs scissoring through the field
giving chase to the wheatear

cameras clicked and videos rolled
as the children from the bus
raced past the field
and onto the beach
and splashing into the ocean
the lone wheatear
flying past the lighthouse
gone but not forgotten


august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
10 Aug 2016
8 Comments

it’s sometime in August and it’s rained for days


alone I sit in the sunroom
wondering when in the world
I’ll see the light of day
or mow the yard
or ride my bike
or snap photograph
after photograph
in the once colorful garden

in the meantime
ruby-throated hummingbirds
feast on homemade nectar
the feeder hanging beneath the eave
the rain not stopping them
from coming and going
as they damn well please


august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
04 Aug 2016
11 Comments

miss muffet’s hairy nemesis


the fly keeps hitting the screen
bouncing off of it
and plowing into it again
as if jumping on a vertical trampoline

I wonder why he just doesn’t
relax on the screen and take in
the warm august breeze
I think to myself
watching the game on TV
and enjoying a cold one

it’s much worse outside I yell at him
believe me
you don’t know want to go out there
they’ll eat you alive

channel surfing between innings
I see he’s finally resting
near the top of the screen
well within striking distance
of little miss muffet’s hairy nemesis


august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
31 Jul 2016
9 Comments

watercoloring


it takes much longer than seven days
to create something as beautiful as you
but here I sit on the veranda
trying to figure it all out

there is no rushing perfection
there is only absorbing
taking in what light there is
and channeling into something else

mixing yellows and greens
and all sorts of shades of blue
the white of the moon
the white of a rabbit’s foot
of an eggshell
or a lost soul

certain brushes make better oceans
certain vessels travel magically through time
transmitting snapshots of sunrises
never before seen

and here on the veranda
light slowly crawls to the surface
waves softly slapping my face


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
22 Jul 2016

the rise of the monarch butterfly


far from the embattled cities
beyond the waves of love and fury
milkweed grows wild along
county roads and graveled byways
(introducing rows of half-grown corn)
bending with the wind
and corrected occasionally
by a fleeting motorist


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
11 Jul 2016
2 Comments

the first order of the second kind


abstract thoughts often lead
to concrete ideas
like barefoot ghost monks
chanting along crushed limestone

hundreds march in the woods
single file along
skyscraper-like trees
bending and moaning and hurt

pink skies become cloudy
marshmallow bruises
falling to the ground
covering all things living

ghost monks become crickets
beating back the dead
chanting toward a light
giving breath a second chance


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
03 Jul 2016
17 Comments

down with the darkness


she boarded a passenger
train in philadelphia
red paisley scarf
complementing her emerald eyes
and covering her auburn hair
matching bag in left hand
one-way ticket in right

strolling from car to car
she drifted as if on air
pausing occasionally at an
unoccupied window seat
darting her eyes upward
at the silvery new moon
chasing the midday sun

some ninety minutes later
she found herself transported
outside ocean city
lost in a sea of spectators
cheering nearly hysterically
as they slowly become
engulfed in total darkness


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
26 Jun 2016
7 Comments

the stillness of the heat


motionless wind chimes hang from
shepherd’s hook
a goldfinch silently perched
drenched in the spell of the summer sun

it matters not the time of day
minutes lasting hours
perhaps drifting backwards
fading shadows exposing wilted petals

the stillness of the heat lingers
unnecessarily
perfectly fixed like a photograph
beads of sweat forming on every pore


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,

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