jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “moon”

bottles of oxygen in the wine cellar


they come to the door
and ring the bell
they are the uninvited ones

I sit in the corner chair
off-white insulated curtains drawn
the bulb of the table lamp
barely buzzing

the brightless ones move on
but I suspect
they’ll return again
more capable of interaction
the next time around

turning off the light
I nod off in near silence
a dimly lit moon rising
whispering something sweet
into my ear
promising to awaken me
as always





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

new moon


if we’re lucky
we’ll see the moon
rise along with the sun
any day now
dismissing any worries
it was blown
to pieces
by a barrage
of nuclear warheads





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

lone wolf


it was a day to be creative
in a regimental kind of way
voluntary confinement
practicing silence in the mirror
solidarity to the self

it’s a craft needing feeding
desirous without comprehending
setting out for the night
following the scent of the wind
and a filtering moonlight





december two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

this is all I know


this is all I know
concealed in a poem
like an eternal idea
or a waxing moon
forever drifting further
from mother earth

the eternal idea
residing in a poem
the seas calm
on a moonless night
thoughts drifting
past the firelight

seas remain calm
catamarans adrift
the idea of a poem
turned into dust
chasing a comet’s tail
on a moonless night





october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

barking at the bay window


it was near midnight
the dog was barking
waking me mid-dream
just as I was I ready
to corner the dormouse

I stretched & yawned
slowly rising to my feet
stretching my legs
& lifting my back upward
toward the ceiling

by this time the dog
had retreated back to her bed
but eventually curiosity
& the red full moon
got the better of me





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

moon dance


sometimes you step
backwards to see if it
can still be done
& then I say to you
there you go again
turning back time

how else are we
able to explain
the forces felt
the ones undefined
only occasionally
tugging at our sides





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

artificial island


it is clear to me
the answers are embroiled
between the moon & ocean
impossible waves bearing witness
to what we believe to be true

how many notes
will you stuff inside bottles
castaways with nothing to lose
messages reworked as questions
a collection of uncontrolled vessels
of various size & composition





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

entering the dark moon phase


sometimes it’s about
not even trying
losing yourself like a leaf
loses its birthplace
only to discover
that the letting go
couldn’t have been
any easier

how easy is it for you
to fall to the ground
defenseless
at the mercy of the winds
of fire & rain
the everlasting moon
your only friend
giving & taking light

lightning crashes
dramatic randomness
will you be there
right on the spot
a specific place in time
is it a coincidence
or queer luck of the draw
determined at birth





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

blank sheet of paper


feeling tired & a bit blue
thumbing through thumbnails
trying to find that genuine smile
must have been
two or three or four years ago
for some reason time
has ceased to be linear

nights dominate the skies
crescent moon stationed eloquently
neighborly planets presenting
themselves as escorts
pre & post dusk

impatient poet
dwells inside a world inside a world
pen or pencil in one hand
flashlight in the other
rhymes & alliteration like static noise
grinding & sizzling & echoing
inside his crowded head





december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

micrometeorite


I understand there’s a second moon
orbiting crazily the planet earth
nothing like the luna we’ve come to love & idolize
but more like a rock
one that you hold in your hand
making it either warmer or cooler
throwing away as high & as far as you like
wondering if it will ever come back





november two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

with winter in mind


a full frost moon
rises & grows & shines
through the leafless elms
yawning & stretching
toward the opposite horizon
a dark red sky
overtaking cirrus clouds
gradually fading
into a deep purple
succumbing to the night





november two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

shadows dancing in the darkness


the city is in danger
but the population is not scared


going about their business
before the lights go out

there is a vision shared by
some local mystics

brought to the center of
attention by way of

the prior administration
somehow stuck in the airwaves

the micro & the radio waves
the healing waves of the pacific

aligning mysterious thoughts
with those of the newest moon





september two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

finding water on the moon


the world is on edge
or has it always been
& I’m just starting to notice

what year have you got
I got a quarter past apocalypse

somehow I managed
to maintain all of my limbs
drifting along with the walking dead
talking to angels who once had wings

word has it major prophets
are being born this year
destined to redefine mother earth
[& her satellite]
twenty-some years from now





september two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

drifting like a ghost


there is sadness in the air you can feel it


the wind is still
and the sun comes & goes
as if it’s a domestic cat
not really knowing
what she wants

I open the door
but the cat will not enter
she just sits there
looking sad

the wind is still
and moon is nowhere
to be found
perhaps sadder than
the rest of us
solitarily crying

I close the door
and the cat begins to wail
I walk away & pretend
that I am deaf

the wind is still
and the clouds are full of rain
but the rain
does not fall
held back by something
outside of my knowing

I open the window
the winds begin to blow
exposing both sun & moon
the cat drifting like a ghost




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

the quiet earth


the ocean pulls back
& the moon
wanes
unattended smoldering
slowly advancing


call it a slow burn
if you will
call it a cleansing
a purging
fire on the water
strangely inviting

the earth has never
been this quiet
the airwaves nearly vacant
except for what
the stars
& the quasars giveth




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

countdown at daybreak


it was nearing midnight
& this field mouse was winning at
playing hide-and-go-seek


I followed him into the kitchen
where I shrewdly threw
some shredded cheddar cheese
into a time capsule

by doing so I thought
I would win favor with the little chap
whom had told me [in so
many words]
how he enlisted himself to
commandeer my next moon flight




may two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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