jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “moon”

striking a balance


autumn nearing its end
solitary specter regressing
roaming empty streets and alleys
digressing on thoughts of love
bemoaning intellectual wisdom

safehouses have no vacancy
full moon gives little solace
though somewhere in the city
a fire burns with purpose
bringing the dead back to life




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

and they called it paradise


if you brush aside the obvious
you will find seeds have begun
to sprout
in what was once known
as paradise

I first met you there
when the moon was but a mural
germinating in the back
of our minds

how we talked about
painting the sky
when the sun
was nowhere to be found

just when everything
seemed to be perfect
the world
burns to the ground
the story resorting
to starting all over again

and those seeds
once clenched in your fists
are forever scattering




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

clearing the way


new moon held in cupped hands
like a wounded fledgling
feeling powerless
yet slowly warming
to this idea of finally flying free

trusting the process is not easy
for anything grounded
nevertheless you uncup
your trembling hands
observing the sky in a new light




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

spare time compulsions


there was a time I thought I wasn’t going anywhere
even when traveling across the country
searching for a better place

the good news is pretty red roses always stay pretty
even after morning dew turns to frost
november days fading fast

passion and introspection complement the dying
their mystery moon burning bright
unnoticed by the living




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

walking on the moon


when I get to the moon
I’m gonna put on my red shoes
converse all stars to be sure
complete with blue and yellow laces

when I get to the moon
I’m gonna skip and jump and holler
picking up rocks while doing
cartwheels and somersaults

won’t you come with me
oh won’t you come with me
to the moon and maybe back
we can walk hand in hand
skipping and jumping and hollering
sporting red converse all stars
complete with blue and yellow laces




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

my whispering moon


how the moon motivates me
wakes me when she rises
whispering in my ear
promising the world in exchange
for my undying devotion

hours before the cock crows
I find myself mechanically
walking city streets
dodging occasional headlamps
wondering where you are

weatherman proved wrong again
about mostly starry skies
your whispers reassuring
affirming you are nearer
than my eyes could ever see




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

inner city haiku baseball


full moon with stitches
off-white and slowly revolving
like a knuckleball

in the alleyways
pick-up games start at daybreak
broomsticks and duct tape

tying run at plate
runners at every corner
bus driver pitching

final shot arcing
sailing over skyscrapers
shooting for the moon




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

finding your comfort zone


midnight arrives and a sudden
something wakes me from my slumber
a strike of lightning perhaps
a thunderclap inside my head

I can’t breathe here lying on this bed
lazily and precariously I remove
myself off the comforter
nearly in a trance I pretend I’m
sleepwalking down the steps

I’m far from alone on the main floor
sounds of human breathing
omnipresent and unmistakably eerie
incoherent words babbling barely

I distance myself from dark thoughts
and curl up against sunroom door
cool to the touch my warm body relaxes
moonlight waxing and shimmering
exposing my off-white stripes




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

candles burning


I’ve been locked away for days
recovering from nerve blocks
and a brief episode of the blues

seems I’ve been giving of myself
blindingly and with regularity
not taking into consideration
what’s right with the world

repeated jabs to the gut have a
way of wearing down shadowboxers
not conditioned to go twelve rounds

midnight has long come and gone
and now I find myself (once again)
right back where I started
relighting the dark side of the moon




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

emotional like the sea


sunrises come and go
climbing and dropping like clockwork
turning pale skin to red
and correcting failing vision

inside you is this acumen
as powerful as midday sun
dying to expose itself
for all the world to see

heartbeats ebb and flow
like half moon across midnight green
at mercy with the tides
and hoping not to die




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

twelve pound test line


sitting on narrow part of bridge
we fish from the bottom
at three-thirty in the morning
having closed the bars
we now chat side by side
unexpectedly witnessing
waxing moon blooming

while most people dream
we resume this conversation
started decades ago
at last coming to a head
suddenly realizing
past years made no sense
and most likely never will




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

when shadows surrender


schizophrenic city streets
lined with phantom street lamps
come alive come nightfall
thanks to a populace as diverse
as any melting pot can get

shadows gradually give way
to molasses moon rising
repetitiously expanding
melding in with various moods
painting the town in technicolor




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

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