jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

who’s going to make the pizza crust when I’m gone


whenever you think or dream of me
remember my promise of being with you
whether obviously or in some mysterious way

I’m reminded of many a farewell song
forever streaming in endless space
omnipresent like the buttons on your blouse

I am sewn into your inner and outer fabric
like a reversible jacket draped over a chair
or hanging neatly in the hallway closet

whenever you take a step remember I am there
bending at the knee and looking upward
at all the stars in the midnight sky




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

maybe 55 minutes at 375°


everything is late this year
spring and summer and expectant fall
tomatoes in the garden expanding
like waxing gibbous moons
healthy and reluctantly green

oscillating fan is bound to work
overtime now that school is in session
wardrobe becoming wide and varied
like these unpredictable days

yes we’ve been here aplenty
but never are we prepared
for the inevitable unexpected
whether disguised
as business as usual
or surprise apple pie in the oven




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reasons to stay


how far back can you go
sparked by poetry or song
time seemingly at a standstill
current situation suddenly
becoming secondary in nature

the answer is limited only by
imaginary boundaries
preset and meant to be broken
continually experimenting
for the ultimate good

do not worry of past places
you’ve not yet visited
for they’re been inside you
since the beginning of time
predestined to be relived




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

conversations kill


with the opening and closing
of so many doors
you see him and you don’t
like a houdini or apparition
like a mouse that got away
or one out of a thousand
helium balloons

sometimes he hangs out
for hours on end
whether you like it or not
time passing by with nary a word

you say it’s getting late
or hey I’ve got to get to work
but feel free to stick around
and by all means help yourself
mi casa es tu casa

by the time I get back
he’s nowhere to be found
no note and nothing taken
just a strange feeling
that sooner or later I’ll want him back
maybe after a beer or two




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

and yet I find


the wind hides beneath a rock
waiting to show itself
at the least expected time
frightening the masses
and benefiting a precious few

some say it’s a random act
[of god] repeating itself
from one generation to the next
progressively more destructive
further tidaling the waves
exacerbating the fire
wickedly twisting a new kind of
madness out of thin air

rewind and fall further behind
delving deep inside the wood
collecting mushrooms
and turning over rocks
examining and wondering
how one in a million will unleash
the next counterrevolution




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

beautiful like you


it has nothing to do with reflections
in the mirror or the stillness
at the water’s edge
the day’s sunshine nearly even
with the horizon
casting her unpredictable light
every which way
as if trying to be recognized
for the very last time

as always you are attracted
to the light in your eyes
alive like the butterfly
recently released above a field
of burgeoning sunflowers




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I wouldn’t change a thing


I’ve no story to tell only a poem to share
borrowed from a friend of a friend
a past reminiscence
from a long ago saturday night

it was a moonless sky
no stars and no promises
only a bloodless pact
designed to make you immortal

I should have known or maybe I did
the light in your eyes
was different than all the rest
fragile like existence itself




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

two steps backwards


trials and tribulations
since the beginning
of time. what brought
me here and why
does everything
look so familiar?

you see that tree?
I’ve been told it’s much
older than me
but I swear I
planted it when it
was just a sapling.
I ask someone who can
no longer hear me
isn’t that true?

when I was young
I was often told
I look much older
than my age. and now
now that I’m walking
with a stick in hand
people are saying
I look much younger
than my age.

this place is chock-
full of beauty
and contradictions.
I’ve learned to take
one step at a time
whether one forward
or two backwards.

you see if you look
closely enough
you’ll find a resting
place in the most
chaotic places.
and if you’re lucky
enough someone
will be there with you
counting your breaths
and reading your mind.




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

bleeding before the law


you see me and you don’t
wherever you may roam
on the streets or display screens
caught in the five o’clock
be it rush hour or evening news

you may have heard me say
I cannot breathe I cannot breathe
unable to stretch my limbs
pinned to the concrete
left bleeding before the law

something is sadly empty
within ourselves
ancient spiritual connection
unplugged and without a prayer
to bring me back to life




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Fire is Hell


I step over the line and find myself staring
at a man I used to be. Looking back I wonder
how many times I’ve been shot down
only to get back up and start all over again.

I used to tell people I’m a cat with nine lives
but wasn’t exactly sure which one I was living.
If recollection serves me right I went through
a number of them before reaching the age of 21
but damn that seems like yesterday and/or a
century ago. Forgive me as I reminisce in the middle
of a poem and try to undo my misremembering.

So many things have changed and neither for better
nor for worse. It’s like everything happening these
days is exactly as planned. And all the mass killings
are nothing more than the grand design absurdly
put in place by a God who has long ago headed
for the hills and waits patiently for everything to burn.




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on moving day


it’s been a while since painting
my favorite crescent moon
recently asking
why shouldn’t I give it another go

I swear I’ve been there before
places we dream about
places destined to be discovered
before anyone else does

it’s been a while since packing
my traveling bags
leaving behind everything
I’m willing to let go




august 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

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