jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “moon”

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

before the month of may


the economy is opening
and prices are rising
gather yourself some flowers
and give them to your lover

never mind all the rules
let alone your own imaginations
running wildly hand in hand
chasing the new silvery moon




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

white lantern


how do I go from here
now that the waxing gibbous
is nearly full
stealing my thoughts
and making me motionless

she is a glorious pale melon
rising above the whiteness
that is winter
saying look at me look at me
I am as cold as cold can be

bright like a lantern
on a visibly cloudless night
she exposes my
somber & aimless thoughts
my body warm & spellbound




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

Spanish Moon


I’ve often wondered
about the Spanish Moon
if I could possibly make it out
once having gone inside

The hookers & hustlers there
will tear you apart
as long as you have that spark
diamonds in your eyes
and rings inside your soul

They’ll take anything they want
at the Spanish Moon
as you foolishly fall in love
with that dark-eyed girl
singing & playing guitar




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

darker half


at this very moment
it’s a new day
the last october sun
completely below the horizon
giving way to the harvest moon
swiftly rising in the east

high winds play havoc
with anything with wings
forcing cirrus clouds
to come & go easily
pushing & pulling them
past the bodies of the sky

anything’s possible
over the next twenty-four
dawn turning to dusk
a reminder of what once shined
is now buried in the earth
at least until the equinox




october two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

electric moon


electric moon follows me
wherever I may go

it matters not the time of day
be it high noon or midnight
tapping me on the shoulder
once i’ve found a way
to fall into a soundless sleep

electric moon promises
to be my friend
pumping life back inside me
whenever contemplating
of letting go




october two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

to the moon & back


I’m lost again but what else is new
having put the fob in my pocket

comfortably buckled inside
I engage the flashing green button

a voice demanding in so many words
where are we going this time




september two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

if only for the last time


a new may day straight ahead
one like none other
if and when we actually get there

I made a promise I would change
but that was long ago
& now I can’t recall into what

tonight we watch the sun turn blue
swallowing the night
making all the rivers rise higher

you’ve been here before
playing victim & demon & god
chasing the impossible moon
if only for the last time




april two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

children of the moon


at what age does a child realize
the moon can take only one shape
            that of a flattened ball
and all other perceived aspects
       whether real or imaginary
         are mere manipulations of light
and angles      also known as
            geometric trickery

a child unloosens his hand
from his mother’s and points up
            at the sky
       declaring there do you see
in broad daylight
            he dares to show himself
       the same but altogether different
from the moon of the night

how can such an ancient body
continually become new
            living and dying every
thirty-some days while the rest
       of us grow old
          making every child believe
its ageless      grey skin
       miraculously remains white




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

If I were to name the gods


I can’t see my own face but I’m sure
it’s a shade of rose-colored red
winter wind and powerless sun
making my blue eyes even bluer
my heavy heart undeterred

I cry for no reason and wipe away
the cold tears with my coat sleeve
walking toward the water calmly
discarding broken promises
replacing them with anticipation

If I were to name the gods of the sky
I would choose this place in time
where the river meets the moon
and I alone can touch the stars
by simply reaching out my hand




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the bird and her fiddle


listen carefully there is a bird
 warbling from the moon
  how she got there is anyone’s guess

is she yellow or is she red or blue
 plump or thin or somewhere in between
  can you tell by listening carefully
   to the tenor of her fiddle

there is a feel to her presence
 sublime and pleasantly inviting
  when will the world stop spinning
   and listen carefully to her message




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

not a single one


november beckons differently
than all other lunar cycles
there are no lions or lambs
just sheer madness
whether it be for better or worse
or ‘til death do us part

there may be anniversaries
or birthdays or holidays
they take a back seat
to the reality of november
its unpredictability and certainty
of death and sex and taxes

not a single one is alike
varying by degrees immeasurable
even the moon knows not
what to do come november
either boasting pure beauty
or bashful like a hungry child




october two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

green will always be your eyes


here we are back on the moon
like it was nineteen sixty-nine
year of the miracle mets

oh how I remember it well
my dear friend
staying up all night
fighting demons disguised
as russian cosmonauts

so many years later
I’m reminded in song
being with you girl
is like being stoned
a million miles from home

they say the sun is blue
when running free
on the dark side of the moon
where gravity loves company
and green will always be your eyes




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

millions of dollars at stake


rehearsing and rewording
keeping eyes and ears open
millions of dollars at stake
electric cars racing faster
than any combustible engine
ever placed on this earth
all buckled in and good to go
demigod voices streaming
through AM radio
promising surprises in the end
eyes no longer focused on the road
rather on waxing gibbous
slowly appearing above
the imaginary shoreline




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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