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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

17 Mar 2018
6 Comments

Who knew the other side of you


Dani wouldn’t be caught dead
marching in any damn parade
she had bigger dreams in mind
than floating down inner city streets

She wore black on the outside
painted her face so as not to be seen
but on the inside everything was green

There are so many ways
to break the cycle
so tell me what keeps you hiding
inside these temporary shadows

I knew you when you were but a child
how you used to chase sparrows
climbing trees and singing songs
pretending the world could do you no harm

Somewhere along the line
you are born again
awakening like grass among wildflowers
elbowing for space and praying to starlight
reaching out for the next sunrise




march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
16 Mar 2018
8 Comments

sailboats on the mississippi


she’s an artist
a watercolorist to be exact
her brushes her most prized possessions

she hardly notices as I brush her hair
her mind and soul recreating sailboats
racing parallel on the mississippi
winds and currents playing havoc on canvas
fading sun filtering through cumulus clouds

I’m lost in her world
imitating master backstrokes
eventually drowning in complicated brilliance



march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
15 Mar 2018
14 Comments

lemon alabaster


“I’m sorry I can’t come
to the phone right now
I’m working on my imagination”

What kind of message is that
I ask her
perturbed about not getting
a return call three days now

she’s doing her nails on the
propped-up la-z-boy
eyes looking down
muted x-files rerunning on the wall

it’s not a message
it’s a greeting
she says
still looking down
working her file like some
violin virtuoso

she’s a bitch
that’s all I got to say
my eyes darting about
searching for the remote

I’ve dreamed up a new color she says
do you want to know what it is

no I do not I reply
I just want her to call me back



march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
14 Mar 2018
9 Comments

the tattoo artist


it was a wild party
keg of german bock on the back deck
kitchen counter lined with an
assortment of spirits
accompanied by cut up lemons and limes
stuffed olives and orange slices
and pickle spears
juices and sodas and buckets of ice

I chose to play it cool in the parlor
hanging out by the stereo
waiting for my chance
to control the music
chatting with girls who don’t drink
and smiling at wallflowers
who rarely speak

there were many couples
invited to the bash
but as the night wore on
they seemed to become
interchangeable
and some who came with none
departed with many
and those who came attended
wandered unattended
waltzing through rooms
and hallways and stairways
howling like lonely felines to the blues
blaring through bose speakers

by the time midnight arrived
I had the needle all to myself
soon becoming the most popular
person in the place
taking requests and
rolling up sleeves of strangers
injecting happiness into their skin
with the finest ink known to man




march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
13 Mar 2018
2 Comments

waltzing before daybreak


wind chimes hardly whisper
interrupting predawn dreams
like a first passionate kiss
bluebird angels sighing within
wishing to imitate
branches blossoming
the first sign of spring

waning crescent moon calls you
from your slumber
mars and saturn subconsciously
tugging at your comforter
like impatient felines
needing to usher in
all that is welcoming



march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
12 Mar 2018
2 Comments

It’s my island


It’s wise not to force anything
but sometimes you have to go with your gut
cut your losses and move on

This place isn’t for me anymore
sleepwalking by day and
scrambling for words at night
giving the nod to asinine ideas
paying at the pump
ordering groceries on the cloud
drinking craft beer at overpriced taprooms

With google maps or better yet
google satellite
you can go just about anywhere anytime
like the streets of Malta for example
where you can find a flat for
500 pounds a month
where all you need are
polaroid sunglasses and camera
sandals for your feet
a single speed bicycle
and an Internet connection
to check on your brokerage account





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
11 Mar 2018
4 Comments

Sunday driving on winding roads


I’m riding shotgun in this fast car
Tracy Chapman behind the wheel
informing me in a singsong kind of way
she’s got a plan to get me out of here

with Tom Petty blaring out the radio
we’ve no choice but singing right along
Del in the backseat harmonizing
wind blowing back his head of hair

I pretend she keeps smiling my way
eyes on centerline and back again
McCartney beginning to suggest
she should let me drive her car
and maybe she’ll love me





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
10 Mar 2018
2 Comments

reconstructing until kingdom come


out of thin air paper castles
tower above cumulus clouds
constructed by men skilled at
shaping dreams into
concrete ideas

I remained at ground zero
unfolding plans on a tabletop
saying look see here
this is where we must rebuild

and so we burned everything
on the spot
a virtual bonfire slowly growing
visible by satellite
smoke in the sky billowing
shaped like an ark
carrying away pairs of anything
that ever was or will be





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dogma, Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
09 Mar 2018
2 Comments

start of a brand new day


there are no secrets in poetry
only rhyme and reason
and quiet determination

ambitious are young hearts
dying to be heard above
the din of repetition

fear not the word of others
rather practice the art
of reading and imitation

seemingly elusive dreams
are best captured at dawn
as they begin transitioning
like alien interlopers





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
08 Mar 2018

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

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
07 Mar 2018
8 Comments

routine annual physical


sometimes I don’t even know myself
in fact at times I’m somebody
else entirely
and I wonder quite often
who the hell I’ve been talking to

and all the people coming in
and out of my life
I hardly know them either

my doctor says it’s perfectly normal
to become disconnected at my age
proceeds to ask me how much
alcohol I’ve been consuming these days

oh I don’t know I say lifting my eyebrows
maybe one or two drinks a day I suppose

oh I see she says
followed by a couple of coughs
a few strokes of the keyboard
smiling politely and soon thereafter
sending me on my merry way

I know she knows I’m lying
but it doesn’t really matter
and when I get home from the tavern
I crack open another beer

by this time I’ve already convinced
myself it wasn’t me lying to her
but that other guy
the one who knows me better
than I know myself
the one who comes and goes
at his imperious leisure





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
06 Mar 2018
8 Comments

the cult


I swim with jellyfish and love
how they’ve accepted me
as one of their own

with each passing day I
become less human
having shed my clothing
and learning to consume
that which disgusted me
only a new moon ago

they encourage me honestly
and applaud my earnest efforts
and since there are no mirrors
(here underwater)
I must take them at their word

I love that I’m slowly becoming
transparent
and for the first time in my life
I feel like I belong





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
05 Mar 2018
2 Comments

lowering expectations


oh my evocative moon
how your passions leave me emotionally spent
leaving me wanting more of what I can’t have
leaving me pretending

underdog contenders slip by the wayside
cosmic currents sweeping them
beneath the carpet
only to be rediscovered when least expected
presented as new darlings of the night sky

lucky stars come and falling stars go
but philosophic metaphors remain in flight
dashing in and out of dreams
like renegade comets bursting at the seams





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,
04 Mar 2018
12 Comments

reconciling the world of art


addicted to art you look for inspiration
in most unusual places
taverns with motorcycles
hanging on walls
farmer markets with chocolate
covered butterflies and vegan jerky
sidewalks littered by children
carrying buckets of colored chalk

those walking dead around you
have limited value
as you attempt
to reconcile your obsessions
with mundane surroundings
your ordinary thoughts souring
your true intention of discovering
a way to master vivid imaginings

your dreams are not enough
you need to put them into action
and so you interact with the
world around you
the unpredictable one
the irreconcilable one
the pretty one and the ugly one
the one that comes and goes
as she pleases





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
03 Mar 2018
4 Comments

one Saturday in early April


sitting in the shadows
I work on poetry
because I’ve got nothing
left to do

our good friend Greg
is buried in Mt. Calvary
beside his father
(I know this because
I was a witness)

it was a reunion of sorts
for the remaining three of us
reunited from divergent points
by way of the big chill

there was no service
and beforehand we met
over coffee
recollecting history
followed by revisiting
old places under new ownership

at the end of the day
I found myself exactly
where I started
sitting in the shadows
and working on poetry





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
02 Mar 2018
11 Comments

new year’s resolution


to counter sadness with happiness
remove mascara stain from davenport
replace shower curtain

weed the garden but cultivate select few
for they too live to bloom

repair broken bird houses
seek to find words for things left unsaid
have the chimney stack swept

walk an extra mile or two
fill the flat tires with air
locate a few long lost friends

and last but not least
find a way to forgive yourself





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,

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