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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

07 May 2017

gunmen and alligators


they come out of nowhere
and take your life away
sometimes in a split second
but often involving traumatic
long drawn-out struggles

surprise attacks are an
everyday occurrence here
and in case you haven’t heard
nobody pays too much attention

breaking news spreads afire
circling the globe in nanoseconds
leaving the citizenry cold and numb
unable to speak their piece
lest they be hunted down like a dog



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
06 May 2017
9 Comments

The cosmonaut and the cat


I’m not going to space without my cat
I told them
and all of sudden they start this foolish
talk about bumping me

It’s a little too late for that don’t you think
I tell them
and a day later
they agreed the cat can go





may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , , ,
05 May 2017
5 Comments

hills like white elephants


if you are looking for the truth
you will not find it here
here where men in high places
place blame on the innocent

of course such power seldom
lasts past a lifetime (this day and age)
where kings are mere symbols
and queens call on mercenaries
to maintain the working class order

this inner struggle is as old as
hills like white elephants
where deep below the surface
purple hearts struggle to be noticed




may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
03 May 2017
4 Comments

little pink houses


I saw you coming out of church
on a sunday no less
which kind of blew my mind
but who am I to say
what is jaw-dropping
and what is not

your son knew mine
once upon a peaceful time
but now neither know one another
at least not on a plane
that either of us are aware

we were never really friends
but now we are complete strangers
living in a city I always said
was nothing but a small town
dying to be be something it is not



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
02 May 2017
2 Comments

unwelcomed back home


self-proclaimed prophet travels
by foot from town to town
preferring the company of commoners
freely imbibing at their
favorite places of nightly worship

passages freely flow by heart
finding favor with patrons
cheering and praising his warnings
vehemently believing
until the hour that the morning comes

signs of the times remain unchanged
he would oft repeat himself
drifting to the next town by moonlight
abstinent and confident
acceptance is but a stone’s throw away



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dogma, Poetry and tagged , ,
01 May 2017
6 Comments

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

Posted in Birds, Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
30 Apr 2017
4 Comments

shadow in my periphery


there is a shadow in my periphery
merely a glimmer of my future self

the moment I sense its presence
it reshapes itself and disappears
leaving behind a lingering desire

that which cannot be defined
interrupts my ordinary days with
perfectly placed subliminal messages

I’ve learned to decode and encrypt
slowly making sense of my former life
diligently uncovering its suppressed dreams

little did I know the shadow in my periphery
was nothing but an outcast heart seeking light



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
29 Apr 2017
3 Comments

seaside room in las vegas


they put me up in the las vegas hilton
I remember it well
it was a monday

I wasn’t going anywhere soon
so I had plenty of time to count all the chips
stacked on the round table in the corner

I tried calling out but all I could hear were
ocean waves coming through the receiver

I took a shower and drank a beer
and ate a small bag of honey roasted peanuts

I opened the door and looked down the hallway
both ways
and though it seemed the coast was clear
I knew I wouldn’t be able to get far

by the time the sun went down I wasn’t sure
exactly where I was
so I called the front desk and they assured me
that yes
I was indeed at the las vegas hilton

I picked up the telephone
and tried calling out again just to let you know
I was extending my stay
but all I could hear were ocean waves



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
28 Apr 2017
11 Comments

working through the off-season


she stitched and sewed all winter long
meticulously
almost feverishly
covering cork and rubber and yarn with
whatever kind of hide she could find
having promised her boys of summer
the only way they would not play ball
would be due to the most severe
inclement weather



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Baseball, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , ,
27 Apr 2017
4 Comments

The hanging bridge


It was carnival season and the town
gradually transformed itself
becoming grotesque and queer
and emotionally exhausting

Determined to move forward
Billy and me walk hand in hand
he nursing along a quart of malt liquor
and me drawing on Virginia Slims

By the time we reached the bridge
they had just finished
reenacting a past less distant than
most locals care to admit

Uncertain how I could possibly hold
back the tears
I tell Billy what they did to my people
is unforgettable
unforgivable

Without saying a word
he squeezes my hand tighter
draws me nearer as the
Chickasawhay River shamelessly
snakes by directly below our feet



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry and tagged , ,
26 Apr 2017
7 Comments

inner sanctuary


it’s impossible to hear the spoken word
when the rains fall so hard
killing the song
making good intentions just plain wrong

these eyes find light in the strangest places
sitting alone in the dark room
conversing within
making up stories without lies or deceit

walking in broken shoes on crushed stone
I listen for the least sound
signals from the sun
still images of havens inside the wasteland




april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,
25 Apr 2017
2 Comments

dinner for four


the dogs were in the kitchen
sniffing the tile and looking away
whenever I glanced back
over my left shoulder

they knew better
but nonetheless tested the limits
of their sensory curiosity

opening the lid to the beef tips
I picked up the wooden spoon and
growled something incoherently

they immediately receded
to their respective corners
giving way to the grey tiger
crouching in the shadows



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Poetry and tagged , , ,
24 Apr 2017
4 Comments

the beautiful and the silent


she arrived unannounced
redirected from an unknown god
breaching the exosphere without a sound

though coming to life by starlight
she disguised herself as human
finding solace within her own garden

as time passed the ground flourished
showcasing colors never before seen
reshaping the landscape of a parallel world



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
23 Apr 2017
4 Comments

sixty minutes


I turn on the television and catch
this eighty-something say how “they”
saved millions of lives by having
people cease smoking

(of course I assumed he was
talking about cigarettes)

he was quite proud of himself
going on to say how good he feels
when looking in the mirror

of course I took what he had
to say out of context
(and nearly contemptuously)
certain that jesus would have
handled himself entirely differently



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
22 Apr 2017
4 Comments

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

Posted in Aliens, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
21 Apr 2017
6 Comments

by the time spring arrived reality set in


the king’s inner circle sent away men on horseback
to sow the seeds of forgiveness

it was the first of its kind and unbiased officials say
they are planting courageous ideas

before winter set in the horsemen sought comfort
slightly below the earth’s surface
solving religious conflict through peaceful uprisings





april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , ,

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