jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “music”

before the wall is smashed


we listened to pink floyd
all afternoon
before settling on watching the wall

neither sunlight nor lightning
could penetrate the electronic den
stocked with essentials and
adorned with colorful matter
that shined on the four corner speakers
slightly exposing fellow clan members
relaxing on the supersectional
and loveseat
and futon
and pink bean bag chair

sometime before the wall is smashed
a pizza delivery boy arrives unannounced

swarmed by our open arms
we tear into his flesh
only to stitch him
back together
like some old rag doll


november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

morning blue


I love to play the piccolo
just before the birds awaken

my own imagination
enters their waking dreams

before the song is over
and just as the sun starts to smile
trillions of feathers
usher in the morning blue





november two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Big Time in Reno


I made my way to Reno by accident
with a woman much older than her age.
She said she knew a married man there
who seemed to have a ton of money.

It didn’t take long before she left me
for a drifter with some blow, so I decided
Reno was as good a spot as any
where I could work on my old acoustic.

By day I had a gig dealing twenty-one
at Fitzgeralds; earned enough in tips
to keep my lungs full of Old Golds
and my lips wet with whiskey or rye.

I kept telling myself I’m gonna make it big
in Nashville one day, but until then
I just kept singing my railroad songs
for the cockroaches in the rafters.



november two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Inside the City


Inside the city thousands converge
on the open market regardless the weather
The allure is captured in historical relevance
where honest exchanges of trade and art
played out for centuries with civility

At the center of the square an acting troupe
dressed as traditional chess pieces
reenact the ‘56 match between Byrne and Fischer
the characters moving on the checkered stage
as commanded by the intelligentsia

Relaxing on a bench I breath in the city’s past
contemplate how its future could possibly change
A block away a string quartet starts in on Mozart
compelling me to walk among the people
and toward yesterday’s perfection



april, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Whispers of Sorrow


We drove through the cemetery
in the dead of winter
until we found the blue canopy
flopping in the wind

Many inches of snow had fallen
the night before but the plow
had cleared the lanes

A bright sun and dress shoes
hit the asphalt with purpose

As many as a hundred faces
converged on the canopy
in steadfast silence

Gusts of wind arrived from the west
and tossed snow off the roof
and onto the gatherers

Familiar prayers were recited
between coughs and sniffles
and one woman’s weeping

When a bugler played
a familiar lullaby
the vacant faces drifted
in varying directions
whispers of sorrow filling the air




january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Before the First Frost


Whispers could be heard
Beneath the leaves,
The ones fallen seasons ago
When there was no reason
To believe time would ever end.

Softly worded thoughts
Seemed to travel close to home,
Yet when trying to pinpoint
The source it became clear
It was something universal.

Out of disharmony beautiful
Music seemingly appeared,
Played by angels pretending
To be popular, nestled
Comfortably in the backyard
On a cool autumn evening.



march, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

In This Place


Diving deep inside your mind
I found the place
You speak about so often
Where laughter sounds like
Pretty cries and memories
Are but a movie seen
So many times

In this place I heard
Hummingbirds feeding
On red Bee Balms
And in the distance
Silhouettes walked
Into the falling sun
Along the coastal sands

In the background music
Could be heard
And after a while
I pretended the voice
Belonged to you




click here for youtube video

august, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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