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
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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
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
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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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
creative moon snaps
black and white photographs
from the far side
where nobody can witness
her weakness
for the human spirit
her desire to curtsy and
spin from heel to toe
diminished eons ago
today simply curious
sitting from afar
like a waning wallflower
stages of many desires
camouflage her emotions
leading on
then pushing back forces
desiring to uncomplicate
her true intentions
october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
she slipped by like a new moon
looking for a place to hide
on bright days she warmed my heart
but when clouds gathered ‘round
she chilled my bones
leaving me rummaging for solace
(come rain or shine the boys of summer
aspired to play deeper into cooler nights)
sunday morning frost
nipped at my budding thoughts
stripping me of guilt and innocence
and reminding me of all those things
left unsaid and undone
though the sun will rise again
this may be the last goodbye
september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
mathematics of heaven
on earth measure up
like the clickety-clack of
wingtip boots hitting
hot summer concrete
on the brightest of days
seven plus one rounds
normally fill a colt 45
its pearl handle concealed
inside the hip of urban
cowboy moving about
in conspicuous silence
waxing gibbous expose
skyscrapers without power
eluding bullets fired
from restless streets that
harbor outlaw scientists
who recalculate and reload
august two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
morning light casts long shadows
where trees amass and grow wild
harboring mere mortals
savoring newfound secrets
at work in the dimly lit night
werewolves trail the slender moon
digging out curses buried
deep along the way
on the outskirts of the city
early morning trains whistle and
howl and slowly garner steam
hauling away memories that
never truly existed
october two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
they say there is no setting
or rising of the sun
they say it is always there
and it’s just your imagination
that sometimes it is not
with that in mind I stood at the
doorstep and handed a child
paper and markers and
asked her to interpret the
world as she knew it
from inside her mind she drew
countless circles orbiting
infinite stars
and every now and then
she placed a new moon
where you’d least expect it
I wondered how many of her
suns supported life as we know it
and as I was about to ask her
she told me she needed
more space and time
september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 