jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “connection”

half past moon


the moon is a timepiece
its complex mechanisms
working flawlessly & unseen
inside its hollowed out shell

understanding its place in time
simple math is in order
performing certain calculations
such as counting to thirty

its measurements are linear
disguised by repetitious orbits
and shadowing phases
complementing your every day

syncing up with its mystery
may require up to a lifespan
but once the connection is made
time will never be the same


january two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

slow dancing


lost in contemplation
pull me back
bring me back
to my senses
where I am the earth
and you the moon

drifting on a cumulus
soft and warm
your hand reaches out
like a shooting star
coaxing me
back to my senses

transitioning into
another body
beyond another plane
you come to your senses
and I follow suit
lost in the cosmic sway


august two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

living remotely


I’m not interested
in your workflow
I would rather see you
slow dance under the moonlight

the flowers in the garden
are not meant
to be picked
but if you like you may
deadhead them
when the time is right

you once asked if angels
reside in the cumulus clouds
I wonder if you remember
my one-word answer

in the dead of winter
I can see you perfectly
smiling in my peripheral
can feel your presence
even though I have no idea
where you may be


july two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

crisscrossing


we made tracks & arrived late
to the swap meet

trading cheap seat tickets
for seed packets

exotic fruits
& wildflowers
—some plane jane vegetables

the vendor thanked us in his native tongue
a melody of syllables ending in bless you

we nodded & acknowledged by saying
we’re but mere mortals

and then off we went
to the nearest ATM machine


june two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a reel of nights


upon awakening
I was certain I had painted
my face red

I had done it to protect myself
from a devious sun

previously I had danced
inside a triangle
inside a circle
inside a square

I could not see the players
but the guitar & the flute
the snare & the cello
carried on in perfect harmony

one time my father kicked a ball
from the family room through the kitchen
& into the parlor

I was certain I was the ball

sometimes the crescent moon
awakens me at midnight

I am more than happy to comply
concerned how lonely
she must be


june two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

loving thy enemy


I wasn’t trained to shake it off
which may be why
my skin is inked in sin

Seeing people smile after
fucking up
what is that all about—
the devil or someone
just shaking it off
or perhaps something I can’t
wrap my head around

I keep looking
for enemies
but all I find are people
who look like me
especially the women
some of whom seemingly asking
haven’t we met before


april two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

telepathy


do you know what I’m thinking
she asked me out of the blue
her voice as distinct
as I had remembered
in god knows how many years

her words were inside my head
as I sat outside a corner cafe
deviceless on a sunny morning
the traffic light but loud
pigeons plentiful & pecking away

I turned to face my right
& then my left & backwards
my hands on the top rail of the chair
fooling myself that she could be within earshot
as opposed to eternally lost
in a sea of consciousness





january two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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