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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “moon”

120 moons


when life can’t get any better
something hits you with
indiscriminate authority
leaving you reeling and rewinding
forcing you to go underground

fast forward and here you stand
garden spade in hand
having dug your way out
over a period of 120 moons
well rested after presumed dead

the old outer you no longer exists
unlike your inner revolution
which continues to evolve
redefining a checkered past
with a future that has no end




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

so far away from the sea


zero to twenty
seemingly a lifetime
long ago microfilmed
now locked away
in a seashell vault

footprints on reflective beach
washed away ages ago
moon phase
after moon phase
erasing whatever proof
there may have been

out in the deep blue sea
young sailors
become old men in a single season
long off course
and desperately sober
stuffing farewell messages
inside empty beer bottles




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the law of attraction


I surrender to the wind
like a kite without a tether
sailing across a sea of change


I’ve been in love before
but this time is was too late
for you see I simply drifted past
the pulling of the tides
becoming closer to the moon
than anything else




december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

looking beyond the darker side


wherein your frustrations lay
a memory resides worth unearthing
buried beneath fortunes good and bad
a reminder of better times ahead

emotions tied to the ebb and flow
whether near the sea or far from shore
and strung along by hypersensitive moon
swim in your tumultuous waters

waves of intensity arise unannounced
testing your capacity for compassion
a merry reminder there’s nowhere to hide
when violet-backed starlings come around




december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

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

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