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poetry by j matthew waters

21 May 2018
8 Comments

cool and dark blue change


do not try to put into focus
that which remains blurred
let it fuse into nothingness
as it was meant to be

forget about putting into words
unspeakable thoughts
rather let such notions disperse
like dandelion spores

those premonitions interloping
between dreamlike states
learn to let them escape your grasp
relish in their freedom

once finding clarity in belief
you may then proceed
accepting the terms of darkness
and its mystic promise




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
20 May 2018
4 Comments

experimenting with burnt umber


she says she keeps putting out fires
but I have no idea what she means
afterall she spends her days in studio
throwing colors on canvases
only to whitewash them a few days later

I tell her I really like those inferno pieces
lava flowing into the sea
destroying everything in its path
upper story skyscrapers burning uncontrollably
tiny people waving white flags out windows

it’s all too depressing she tells me
too much like real life
I’d much rather come up with
something unrealistically fashionable
like butterflies or dragonflies
rescuing fallen angels from the gates of hell




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
19 May 2018
4 Comments

midmorning visions


settling into melancholic reflection
off and on rain and weakening sun
falling behind green glistening treeline
a reminder how tricks of the mind
turn fact into fiction

I’ve seen this scenery off and on
but each time the outcome varies
especially come midmorning
eyelids repeatedly blinking
dreams working overtime

though sunlight often penetrates
past horizontal slats
many times it’s nothing but madness
mysteriously flickering off and on
desperately trying to awaken me




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
18 May 2018
4 Comments

it’s her turn to cry


waiting for the rain to stop
for the pocket phone to ring
waiting for the midnight train
taking me to promised land

you’ve been gone so long
I’ve forgotten how to find you
sitting on a depot bench
I watch the trains crawl by

waiting becomes cumbersome
patience a thing of the past
I walk away from the waiting
waving goodbye one last time




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
17 May 2018
2 Comments

tomorrow is missing you


every sunday I arise after friday
amazed to find I am still in one piece
perfectly aware one day
it will not always be this way

there are mountains to the west
and ocean green to the south
I flip a coin to decide which way to go

where there was once war
now resides everlasting peace
(and vice versa)
just like great lakes are deserts

at times I find myself intrigued
and content and borderline desperate
chasing answers to age-old catechisms

in the end I find comfort in the legitimacy
of my inner voice whispering in my ear
whether I’m wide awake or deep in sleep
reminding me there will come a time
we shall reunite




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
16 May 2018
2 Comments

postcards from afar


we thought he had moved out
for good this time
leaving behind a few possessions
nobody dared to care about

some throw pillows
a trinket or two misplaced here or there
some perishables left in the pantry
and a few dirty dishes
on or around the dining room table

though he never did pay rent
we didn’t mind him hanging out
especially on quiet saturday mornings

what gets under my skin
how he never did leave a note
or better yet sent a postcard from
some faraway place
leaving me second guessing
what could I have done
to make him feel more welcome




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Animals, Poetry and tagged , ,
15 May 2018

Retiring somewhere near Mendocino Bay


We were dead set on going out west
to California no less
north of wine country where we could
easily assimilate without much effort

There were details to work out
such as putting the pets up for adoption
and finding new sitters
for the children’s children

With little left to do in a town where
everyone knows your name
we consider ourselves history
just as soon as we mastermind
our final final bank heist




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
14 May 2018
2 Comments

in search of flowers


out of thin air shallow breaths are born
giving life where there was once none
providing comfort to those who grieve
to those whose lives are in desperate
need of meaningful nurturing

burial grounds of once mighty empires
have long expired and recycled into
fields of grasses and wildflowers
articulated masterpieces of complexion
breathing quietly and free from harm




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in History, Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,
13 May 2018

twelve pound test line


sitting on narrow part of bridge
we fish from the bottom
at three-thirty in the morning
having closed the bars
we now chat side by side
unexpectedly witnessing
waxing moon blooming

while most people dream
we resume this conversation
started decades ago
at last coming to a head
suddenly realizing
past years made no sense
and most likely never will




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Fishing, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
12 May 2018
3 Comments

unearthing old stories


behind the hermit’s gate
stories are being told
transcribed and archived
like nobody’s business

free passes do not exist
but those who slip inside
are put to the test
and ever seldom leave

there are grottos and graffiti
in need of attention
improved upon by signs
of the cross and hail marys

although spoken words
were outlawed long ago
they remain alive and well
buried deep underground




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Dogma, Poetry and tagged , , ,
11 May 2018
9 Comments

when shadows surrender


schizophrenic city streets
lined with phantom street lamps
come alive come nightfall
thanks to a populace as diverse
as any melting pot can get

shadows gradually give way
to molasses moon rising
repetitiously expanding
melding in with various moods
painting the town in technicolor




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
10 May 2018
6 Comments

end of speed limit


roadside singer
quite colorful and
resting comfortably atop
curved guard rail
counting blue cars
and red motorcycles
racing by like clockwork
ruffling feathers
and drowning out
magical sounds
inspired by god herself




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Birds, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , ,
09 May 2018
9 Comments

When in Rome


So here I am
back in Rome again
going about doing things
as alleged Romans do
perhaps for the last time

It’s been a century or two
since I’ve been gone
but now that I’m back
I’m finding not much
has changed

Outside the city
is still the best place to be
if only a man can
break the chains of his
callous past

I must admit though
there is contentment
canvassing the busy streets
holding onto this belief
you still exist




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
08 May 2018
4 Comments

blame it on the moon


piano starts to play
something free and easy
your foot begins to tap
one two three
new moon
half moon
blue moon

how you reminisce
when you hear those sounds
barely noticeable
and rising above the trees
late late at night

waking you from sleep
you make your way
from room to room
finally stepping outside

and it is there finally
you capture the light
(or is it the other way around)
and you find comfort in a song
you once knew by heart




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
07 May 2018
4 Comments

bar hopping outside toontown


so here we are again friday at five
sitting amongst the best and worst
telling new tales and rehashing tall ones

this old boy from toontown drops by
and takes off in a whirlwind
buying a round for the gang before
hailing benny the cab

you know he sure looks familiar
someone says
almost everyone else agreeing
swearing they’ve seen his mug before
either on cartoon network or silver screen

jessica the beautiful barkeep
pretends not to be listening
but perks up and smiles wryly
shaking her head when asked
if she had any idea
who that long-eared bloke might be




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
06 May 2018
3 Comments

sweet imagination


on a sunny sunday afternoon
we entertained
possibilities of what could be

sitting on metal chairs
cushions still in garage
lemon beer tasting ever so sweet
we pointed at unshakable signs
better things sure to come

there were many yesterdays
full of fear and hurt and doubt
but today is what you would call
a new world order

you see the mystery cat
has returned in all his glory
sporting a wide brimmed hat
entertaining us with a song and dance
smiling for the cameras




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,

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