jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “nature”

drawing lines in the sand


with earth day fast approaching
how cannot images of
cosmic collisions cross my mind
planets spinning
dramatically out of control
elsewhere within the milky way

astrologically speaking
the local gods continue
to reconsider scientific law
the orion arm their local playground
occasionally bringing
mother nature to her knees





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

resonant ice trails and iridescent wave forms


there is light coming through
the clearing of the trees
signaling a harbinger of some sort
worthy of pursuing

nearby river flows slowly
as local stream remains silent
life forces beneath the surface
struggling to be noticed

diving deeper into the woods
a peacefulness transpires
while high above the treeline
raptors survey the surroundings
stealthily tracking your every footfall





february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

life again


I left the city for fields of goldenrod
painted by many artists over the years
fresh in my mind for reasons I cannot explain

if I had stayed I’d surely be dead by now
having fallen to the atrocious ills of society
either by murder or apparent suicide

I am far from home but closer to reality
like the shepherd is to his flock
like a mother to her newborn




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in search of flowers


out of thin air shallow breaths are born
giving life where there was once none
providing comfort to those who grieve
to those whose lives are in desperate
need of meaningful nurturing

burial grounds of once mighty empires
have long expired and recycled into
fields of grasses and wildflowers
articulated masterpieces of complexion
breathing quietly and free from harm




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

an evening in late april


unfinished tabletop
wishbone resting on windowsill
dishes in the sink

roses abloom on the vine
outside kitchen window
nature’s fragrance floating

scattered thoughts
pieced together like a dream
disguised as poetry




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

artistic revolutions


time zones and seasonal patterns
have forced my hand to reassess my
opinion of life as we know it

images in my mind continually evolve
from tulip to azalea to lemon tree

those hummingbirds feasting on
oswego tea blossoms were once
damselflies during the dinosaur days

moon chases sun like dog after tail
eventually tiring into submission

clashes in the past reconstruct the future
stirring and remixing and reimagining
painting skies like never before seen




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

tip-toeing


opposition forces positioned themselves
in the most peculiar way
so much so nobody seemed to notice
exactly who they were
or what they were doing

last fall foot soldiers were ordered to plant
thousands of tulip bulbs in the minefields
but not all that went in came back alive
and the ones who did rested uncomfortably
for the rest of their lives

by the time spring solstice arrived
the enemy had mysteriously withdrawn
and all the local children awakened with smiles
welcoming the newly risen sun
proceeding to run cautiously
through her once glorious meadows




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

come sail away


one day I awaken to darkness
next night into the light

how many times I’ve been born
depends upon many factors
such as number of hours in a day
or air temperature at ten or
twenty or thirty thousand feet

wind seems to be the great constancy
bringing about change to a troubled planet
mother nature’s secret ingredient
constantly turning inside her earthen pot
creating recycled challenges
and unlocking old doors

no matter how strong the desire
to stay grounded
just remember even on the
calmest days and nights
sailing vessels never truly stand still





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

waiting for you there


you dig stones out of the earth
as if they are potatoes
stuffing them into a sack

once filled you sling them
over your shoulder
make the short trek
down to nearby stream

children of all ages follow you
along the way
one by one
and two by two they get in line
some holding hands
some chatting and some not
all fully aware what’s
inside the burlap

once at the water’s edge
all becomes quiet except
for the stream itself
speaking a language you
have learned to accept over time

the children watch in silence
as you fall to your knees
dipping and cleaning
and handing out
one stone after another





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

interpretive footpath


bluegrass nature trail
brings back ancient memories
sometimes green and
sometimes slightly snow-covered
always surrounded by
black-capped chickadees
zip-lining happily between oak trees
chatting noisily and
encouraging all to follow
skyscraper shadows
stretching all the way back
to prehistoric wetlands





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

before fading back into darkness


squarish hole in middle of garden
is walled with various sizes of
rectangular-shaped stones
stones once used as steps leading
to abandoned gazebo atop the hill
but now separating earth from fire

sparrows and wrens tend to garden
while cardinals and jays perch in pines
all unafraid of smoldering hole
as long as night is far

patio blocks geometrically encase
black hole in summer garden
introducing spiral pathways
transgressing divergently in circular fashion
exposing and unfolding new life
suspended in color and contrasting light





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

forever in a day


know this day will come and you will
live in peace

be mindful of everything around you
and you will find peace within yourself

there is comfort within the forest of your soul
where trees grow tall and all the animals
on this earth live in harmony

you are the root and the tree and the leaf
the fruit that grows bright and fades
only to return season after season

you are mindful of all things around you
and you protect them when they need protecting
and comfort them when they are lonely

be in love with the morning sun
the noonday sun
and the setting sun

come to know the moon and you will know
yourself better than anyone
and by doing so
will come to understand there is a need
for all things living

there is peace in this day
just as there is peace in all the days that follow





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

turning clouds into monsters


november monsters hide behind october bushes
their passive aggressive breathing giving rise
to a once low lying morning fog

there is passion beyond the hills
if you can ever get past progressive barriers
whether physically constructed or simply imagined

shallow heartbeats gradually acquire momentum
approaching like a lackadaisical thunderstorm
clapping along a spacious prairie

of course you’ve been here before
countless times either in this world or the next
perhaps ages ago when monsters could be trusted



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

winter on our continent


heavy is the rain falling on disquieted river
awakened from a disturbing dream
troubling and bone-chilling
springing forth afterburning energy
recycled into virgin snow
gently blanketing mountaintops



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

bitter creek


bitter creek flows through quiet earth
shaping butterflies and recycling tales of
rivers carving out new tomorrows

peyote blossoms flourish on the border
desert beauties dispensing spiritual guidance
sometimes influenced by bitter creek

old-school artisans steal from night sky
charting reflections onto banks of bitter creek
exposing black cats and neon damselflies

this place comes and goes as she pleases
tricking and mimicking and repeatedly born again



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

another summer lost


open the windows and let cold air in
infiltrating your comfort zone and chilling
your most heated and desperate thoughts

I know not what raises your condition
bringing your ideas to simmering boil
followed by mind-numbing afterburn

I’ve spotted your face in the passing clouds
sliver of a silver moon peek-a-booing
songbirds praising your inner beauty

although impossible to keep you close
I’ve kept your photographs frozen in my mind
turning them into moving pictures

this cold air is bound to heat up again
meanwhile I huddle inside heavy blankets
waiting for winter solstice to show



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

shades of silver and gold


I’m going to take them with me
each and every one of them
I’m going to box them up neatly
like the prettiest set of flowers
ever assembled
and present them with humility
to the spirit of the skies



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lord of the flowers


mighty clouds bulbous and swelling
swarming through dark starless skies
spinning tales of menace and fear
choosing who lives and who dies

little ones crisscross through cornfields
chasing monarch butterflies
free of cares above or below
on this earth or otherwise

what keeps your faith resurrecting
my dear flower of surprise
oh how you entertain greatness
amidst the deceit and lies



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

katydid


who’s that singing me to sleep
these late summer eves
waxing and waning like the moon
but oh so minuscule

good vibrations commingle
between life and death
cycling for the better every year
give or take a lunar month

hopping from tree to tree
from bush to shrub
petal to rejuvenated petal
tempted by the bluejay
and coaxed by the stream
making friends with frogs and mice
anything honestly faced along the way




june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

just like a satellite


out back the boys chewed
on tobacco they called butterflyweed
and not a one of them had a single
thought in their head

inside the girls worked batch
after batch of monster cookies
television set playing in the background
radio blasting pop rock
not a one of them ever not talking

somewhere along the line
these monarch butterflies fly overhead
like an orange sundog drifting along
arcing like a rainbow through the midday sky





june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

just before the calm


there is symmetry in your words
aloft and capacious
passing through like clouds

I used to love the way you talked
but that was long ago
and though I’ve tried I can’t consciously
recall the rhythm or the flow

those wind chimes you hung
still haunt me so
how they suddenly appear out of thin air
colorless and perfectly soundless





june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

after the last day of april


it’s the first of may and all I have left
is this desire to sleep and
witness ruby-throated hummingbirds
feasting upon the flowers



may day two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

How they arrived with clarity and force


Lightning strikes on Miller’s farm
and days later
everything is gone

Are you sure it was natural
everyone seemed to ask
or could it have been an arrow
directed by an angry god

Local preachers try to explain
to congregations of none
exactly what didn’t happen

Meanwhile earth moving machines
continually roll in from far away places



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

out here in the fields


we can pretty much do anything
out here in the fields
except piss on concrete buildings
or turn boxcars into artwork

the bus driver went one way
while the rest of us went another
confident the slender moon would
never lead us astray



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

skipping stones across the surface


there is more to this than scrambling
from one life to the next
deciding who wins and what memories
are worth replaying time and again

the rocks by the water are flatter
than the ones on the hill
but both have surrendered to their fate
indestructible forces that they are

when your calls for help go unanswered
you may need to look elsewhere
though perhaps it’s wiser to lay low
and let patience be your friend

one day the tulips will rise oh so belatedly
delayed by a recent avalanche
covering the ground like an afghan blanket
neither suffocating nor impenetrable



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

while trees are falling down


I saw some poetry while walking in the woods
but it quickly scurried away like a frightened ghost

did you see that I asked myself but I did not respond
determined to take a course unbeknownst to anyone

blood flows through my veins on borrowed time
at one within a place where hollow trees rise and fall

convinced there is no way out other than from within
I slow down my pace and surrender to the sound



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how blue is your heart


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

the philosopher’s playground


the ground trembled beneath bare feet
like an audible sigh from a troubled mind

even the birds paused their morning song
shifting to interpret the mother’s warning

exhausted yet incapable of finding comfort
relaxation eludes the weariest travelers

though peace on earth may one day prevail
the natural order of things indicate otherwise



february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pacifying ancient waves


it’s getting late
midwinter
the cold more than snow
wearing on me
like the moon
weighs on the ocean

the gods tell me
life is long
but there’ll be no spring
so I accept
the premise
and shift my focus

southern sun sings
lullabies
shushing darkened clouds
transforming
extreme thoughts
into peaceful waves



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

accepting the air we breathe


the remedy is closer
than you think
though it seems to pass you by
undetected like an unseen
seductive glance

your god is a jealous one
though you’ve learned to accept that
needlessly questioning
her inconsistent suggestions

it would do you well to consider
the road less traveled
next time you set off on foot
clearing the mind
and patiently engaged
for the answer lies
somewhere in the wind



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

look out for that root


it’s awful lonely in this box
but the beauty of it is
you can hear everything

the first thing I’m gonna do
when I break out
is move that hazelnut bush
away from the fence

roots seem to all ball up
and intermingle endlessly
when they got no place to go
but thanks to the spade
nothing ever stays
quite the same
from this season to the next



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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