jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “moon”

telephone lines


they spoke to one another by way of make-believe telephone lines
not at all like two tin cans connected by a piece of string
stretching from easter island to omnipresent moon

blessed is she who shakes off advances and terms of endearment
instead recognizing all the misfits on the receiving end
reinventing children’s games with wild abandon

and of course with wild abandon comes boisterous laughter
speeding faster than sound through those make-believe lines
the ones stretched from sea to belly of waning gibbous



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sunday evening blues


the massacre on the moon
was plastered all over the news
succinctly too gruesome to be true

how everyone got there
was a matter of simple physics
(having occurred far into the future)

it was an experiment of sorts
and of course a complete failure
while all those living on mars
carried on with their lives
clearly in the dark



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

walking on water


june has come and gone
but the moon is here to stay
though at times not obviously

poor june dismissed without reason
cast away into the heavens
searching for twins and crabs
on the far side of mercury
perhaps never to return

there was no fanfare
here in middle america
perennial fog hiding the moon
for years on end
frustrating a nomadic people
with nothing left to worship

meanwhile there is news
a new sea forms and foams
somewhere in middle africa
where virgin sands appear
(out of a nowhere)
a newborn sent from god
baptized into chaos



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

mister moon and me


I hadn’t noticed how much the moon
had changed in such a short period of time
and I was beginning to believe
perhaps it was I evolving even faster

I told my daughter the other day
I wasn’t the same person from ten years ago
and as she nodded in agreement
I wasn’t sure she truly believed me

I keep sticking my hands in my pockets for
no particular reason
and everytime I bring them back out
I look at them in complete amazement

I remember as a child I would play in the bathtub
with armies and fishes made of soap
and after a while I would exclaim
look mom I have old man hands again

now the moon is the oldest man I’ve ever known
and I tell myself I will get there one day
as long as I don’t lose sight of its wonders
and the all possibilities it displays



august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

freezing of the sea


I knew once my skin had broken
things would be changing quickly

I quietly ducked down below
to retrieve a sweater

arriving back on deck I felt quite
comfortable beneath endless starlight

in my mind I was witnessing a new
moon rising half-way across the world



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

one night in the merry month of may


vanilla wafer moon clears away the clouds
showering my window with midnight light
slowly stirring me to consciousness
undoing the spell long ago cast by my
darling clementine on her deathbed



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how blue is your heart


stained glass hearts
tarnished over time
void of even the faintest
hint of crimson on the
brightest of summer days

on occasion lonely hearts
glisten back to life
slowly reaching out on the
clearest of nights at a
bulging moon turning blue



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Note: this poem is linked to Crow’s Open Mic Invitation

slender is the moon


sometimes she rises unexpectedly
somewhat slight
and somehow bright
like a slice of lemon or orange
painted in the sky

far out west ideas stretch
and sink
fading like an autumn leaf

face to face juxtapositions often
lead to uncertainty
casting doubt
by way of a thousand lies

there are certainly higher standards
worth obtaining
but not at the cost
of having to show no mercy



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the moon you know is no longer mine


it’s hard for me to imagine
I’ve moved on these past few seconds
but in reality was so many moons ago

if only you had an idea
what I’ve gone through
to make it to the other side
you would easily understand
how precious are the wormholes

when I said I was good to go
that was a lie
but now that I’m gone
I’m happy to report
there is something seriously happy
happening on the other side


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

space tripping to the land of many moons


there are many moons circling
my next destination
or so I’ve been told
by the voice inside my head

it’s like a carnival game down there
grenade launcher in hand
pockmarking the moons
one by one
expecting a prize at the end

there is no dark matter
in this place
yet there are plenty of stars
pulsating beyond the many moons
and when the tide is right
I promise to relay you
postcards from there


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lunar new year


new moon rises over aquarius
directing my attention to the 4th house
an empty nest simmering with thoughts
stirring and swirling with a little
help from mars and uranus
stoking the fire so to speak
pushing and pulling unnecessary things
encouraging inner conflict
that doesn’t deserve to be unleashed

this new moon in aquarius
seems to know everything
testing one’s resolve by delivering
glad tidings and dire straits
directly to my front door

determined not to give in
I breathe deeply in the silence of the mind
choosing instead to scatter
seeds in all directions
knowing full well
inner workings are best gathered
when the moon is full


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lost and unfound


the cat chased the crescent moon
deep into the night
encountering near death experiences
along the way
living and dying by the hour
until inevitably unseen

with the scent of the cat
fresh in the dog’s
sensory perceptions
he searched for days on end
until finally losing track of
his long-lost friend

promising to return another day
the dog headed back home
guided by a bright satellite
looming over the city
stray cats springing from the shadows
and jumping over the moon




Oscar & Chester


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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