jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

an endless recollection


repetition of living has taken its toll
on my susceptible shell
altering its physicalities
while heightening my emotions

determined to keep my thoughts
in proper order
I focus on an energy
that is bound to send me skyward

nothing can take away the color
of those changing leaves
or the rippling of streaming water
polishing age-old rocks
nothing can erase the rising
of an off-white moon
or the setting of a kaleidoscope sun
nothing will remove the sounds of laughter
on a summer afternoon
or the sadness trapped inside
melancholy sighs

stepping forward and upward
effortlessly
I shed the weight of the world
and all that it entails
sailing away while looking back
at an endless recollection


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

finding her motivation


creative moon snaps
black and white photographs
from the far side
where nobody can witness
her weakness
for the human spirit

her desire to curtsy and
spin from heel to toe
diminished eons ago
today simply curious
sitting from afar
like a waning wallflower

stages of many desires
camouflage her emotions
leading on
then pushing back forces
desiring to uncomplicate
her true intentions


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

promises made in despair


she couldn’t find her stuffed bear
anywhere
except for the places
she was too afraid to look

beneath her bed
a trap door led to a stairwell
introducing a network of caverns
anywhere that poor bear
could be hiding

could be hiding anywhere

climbing up a tree barely
out of reach from
her bedroom window
someone picks crabapples
and gets ever so sleepy
dreaming of floating on air

down below a little girl
dressed in a onesie and
tears in her eyes
shouts through her funneled hands
wake up
wake up
wake up and jump
I promise I’ll never lose you again


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

riding new waves


you run like the wind
void of thought
breathless
chasing spirits into
the fading light

on the other side
there are souls
in limbo
hoping to follow your
every command

turning on the light
nerves scatter
in waves
circling past prior lives
sailing your way


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

assorted tulips and daffodils


first freeze came overnight
like a woman’s hard slap
on an unwashed face
but when the sun came up
unopposed
I knew it was going to be
a good day

I imagined little ones running ‘round
chattering like robins competing
to be heard
gathering resiny pine cones into
yellow buckets
stored in the garage as
dead-of-winter kindling

meanwhile atop the hill
I move about on hands and knees
digging up and dividing bulbs
replanting the baby ones
giving myself plenty of reasons
to make it through
another Iowa winter


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

border crossings


they come out of the woods
and nobody seems to notice
foreign forces desperately
crawling beneath the earth
constructing tunnels of desperation

a once finely tuned back yard
quickly becomes unmanageable
attracting disparate dichotomies
unwittingly tearing up the fabric
of well-manicured neighborhoods

bloodhounds and barb-wired fences
provide no security along
these once peaceful borders
where old school kings often called
fair maidens from the other side


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

that lonesome road


repressed memories lay in shadows
begging to be found
along the side of the road
leading to a place called redemption

I was supposed to pick up the pieces
but I was busy
losing track of precious time
barreling down this lonesome highway

forgive me for my forgetfulness
those wildflowers found
in the middle of somewhere
were meant to bloom in your memory

this love I possess is eternal
quietly moves on
past tomorrow’s horizon
and beyond the roadway to the stars


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

he embarrasses me


he asked me why I was always near
shouting as if he was deaf
pointing fingers about which way
the wind blows
as if I always knew
when to grab a jacket
or carry an umbrella

he stopping drinking gin
and switched to vodka
because that was my mother’s favorite

in the candlelit parlor
he would silently toast her beauty
until he could no longer see

when midnight arrived I would take off
his shoes and put up his feet
lay a blanket over his fragility
his hand grasping the cane

he never wanted me
to take him out to dinner
because as he put it
I know everything about nothing
and talk way too loud


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

time traveler’s daughter


thousands of years have passed
since they first arrived on our lands
mistaken as gods of ingenuity
in search of finding a new way

conceived by way of imagination
she was the first of a dying breed
had traveled throughout the galaxy
before ever witnessing the light of day

the road to immortality is a lonely one
but she had no choice but to proceed
aspiring to heal universal wounds
ruthlessly inflicted by trespassers


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

ghost of my former self


I always enjoy my time
walking amongst the living
dressed in off-white and
uninterested in success
briefcase in one hand
wall street journal in the other
umbrella purposefully left behind
in a vacated train seat

I once met an angel
while witnessing a stabbing
on sunset boulevard
quickly turned my back
because her light was too bright
her tucked wings a reminder
I can’t possibly find my way
without first learning to fly


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

illusionary safe havens


bulleted cars crawl on desert road
headlamps shining
motors purring silently
powered by a sun
hidden past the dunes

old soldiers march in the rear
in light camouflage
carrying rifles and canteens
their breath visible while
chanting in the cool air

twenty thousand miles overhead
satellites pick up chatter and
transmit to the other side
resting comfortably
somewhere near the water

like a wine connoisseur
star-studded aficionados
select bombs from a list
packaged and activated
and released from a carrier

morning sun cast shadows
stretched across the desert
etching out new roads
and offering new hopes of
finding refuge near the red sea


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

when september ends


she slipped by like a new moon
looking for a place to hide

on bright days she warmed my heart
but when clouds gathered ‘round
she chilled my bones
leaving me rummaging for solace

(come rain or shine the boys of summer
aspired to play deeper into cooler nights)

sunday morning frost
nipped at my budding thoughts
stripping me of guilt and innocence
and reminding me of all those things
left unsaid and undone

though the sun will rise again
this may be the last goodbye


september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Session 101


I told the doctor I hadn’t been feeling
quite like myself
told her I’ve lost some weight
and kept waking up at three am
on the button
for the past ten days

I’d get up and take a leak
in the dark
imagining the moon was staring
at me from behind the drawn shade
watching my every move

After a few moments of silence
she finally got the courage
to tell me to go on

There’s nothing more to say
I said as if nothing was wrong
and I got up and left
feeling perfectly fine


september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

invisible in the city


getting lost is good for the ego
especially when deep in meditation
where there is no place to hide

stumbling down the sidewalk
the shopping cart I push
keeps me from falling over

alleyways are always darkest
during the brightest of days
when eyes are shut tight
and I can barely see my breath

I feed birds living on high wires
and encourage city weeds
growing between the cracks

having answered to many names
I am content with the unknown
that is certain to befall us all


september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Sunday Sports Bar


It was Sunday and we slept in
and skipped Mass
instead settled for a cozy little
tavern offering a brunch buffet and
make-your-own Bloody Mary bar

Flat screen TVs lined the upper
walls between knick-knacks and
artwork and craft beer signs
airing multiple football contests
and golf and X games

In the far back corner a dozen
patrons encircled a table
the television above them
airing the Papal visit in Philadelphia
every once in a while whooping
it up and pumping their fists
signaling to all the faithful
the Pope had scored again


september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

hungry little flies


mosquitoes hang out by solar
powered lights
strung along the north end of the pond
unnoticed by skinny dippers
sipping blue margaritas and keeping
cool in the air-conditioned cabana

up the hill patio lights turn on
exposing new flesh
lounging on freshly painted deck chairs
tempting low-lying mosquitoes
to change their tactics by abandoning
their fruitless waiting game


september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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