The Penguin
And so I showed up
to the halloween party
just before midnight
wearing nothing but
a black tuxedo
april two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca
poetry by j matthew waters
Archive for the tag “halloween”
fragmentation
it’s what we can’t see that scares us the most
three purple aliens hovering at the door
the little one rings the bell
not everyone likes Peyton Manning
would more than likely hit the mute button
or not hand out candy on a cold & rainy night
the baseball game is postponed
for obvious reasons
a higher power undoubtedly in on the action
[it being] the car crash that killed the driver
in the early morning hours
not to mention a few dead fawns
and a number of squirrels
chili is warming on the stovetop
there’s something mysterious in the wi-fi
—the doorbell rings again
october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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blazingly alive
they come and they go
these goblins from the past
posing as trick or treaters
and tearing up the neighborhood
one night out of three sixty-five
they claw at the earth
levitate off the ground
or fly from tree to tree
searching for shells
they abandoned long ago
once I pursued them
believing they weren’t real
taking me to a mirrorless pond
far from my home
and there I sat at the water’s edge
motionless till dawn
witnessing their blazing departure
october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
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annual transformations
stranger is the night on halloween eve
like a mad scientist creating in the lab
saving face from an alien race
growing wings like a common housefly
aspiring to be an angel for one sad girl
laughing quietly behind closed door
time travelers get lost exploring
mountains or underground tunnels
designed to keep you trapped inside
spherically-shaped revolving objects
nothing to hide and everything to gain
he loses himself beneath her skin
stealing mind and body and soul
invisible wires tied to extremities
october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
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the curse of the new moon
morning light casts long shadows
where trees amass and grow wild
harboring mere mortals
savoring newfound secrets
at work in the dimly lit night
werewolves trail the slender moon
digging out curses buried
deep along the way
on the outskirts of the city
early morning trains whistle and
howl and slowly garner steam
hauling away memories that
never truly existed
october two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
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waiting on deck
september’s death
rests inside a fielder’s glove
her final breaths elongated
lilting and fading
elegantly purposeful
she would not be happy
knowing what follows next
her boys of summer in full costume
exhaling the uncertain air and
parading out past twilight
clumsily swatting bats
september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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