jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

throwing caution to the wind


I’m just a two-bit actor
asked to sit still and observe
ticket holders weaving their
way through popcorn lines

what I want to say is that
the movie is in your head
replaying the same scene
in so many different ways

the first time around I was
smoking on a park bench
imagining I was with them
playing frisbee golf

of course that scene was cut
and replaced by a younger me
burning crosses in mississippi

sometimes I sit for hours
in a room full of hopefuls
not saying a word
but rehearsing every line
I ever knew
just in case they call my name



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

hey diddle’s redux


now the crow
how he boasts
but not like a cow
with no place to go

nobody flew
over the moon
not even the crow
comfortably roosting
atop spotted dog

inside farmhouse
grandma plays fiddle
while diddle diddle
licks the dish clean
spoon her microphone
the cat’s caw her song



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

at one with the earth


they huddle around the fire
the little ones in front
wrapped in animal hides
and mesmerized by the flames

black and bedazzled
is the sky
spotlighting
exhalations of storytellers
reading from unwritten books

soundless nights accentuate
the reality of dreams
projecting and protecting
the history of a people
at one with the earth



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

creation by association


candles burn where I am not
reminding me what may have been

in my little world it is quite dark
at times taking on many shapes
other times simply murmuring

I reach out and bring in pieces
from out of nowhere
meld them together in my palms
first into a ball and
then into whatever fascinations
may gradually evolve

inside each molded piece
an ember burns
invisible to the naked eye

I’ve no idea how many weeks
may pass before revealing themselves
perhaps like a seedling
breaking the surface
or a renegade meteor
breaching an otherwise impregnable sky



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how I am drawn to you


the town is vacant
abandoned by war
can you feel me
trembling with fear

the moon is afire
and the field is aglow
can you see me
chasing the wind

the bridge is out
and the river is frozen
can you hear me
calling your name

the border is near
attracting me closer
your arms reach out
unbelievably we embrace



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a streetcar with no name


the sun won’t rise for a couple
hours more
but already the roads
are snow-covered above
and icy below

in most neighborhoods
the morning paper never arrives
and to anyone
daring to venture outside
experiences soft wood burning
and blackbirds squawking

up and down the streets
automobiles idle in driveways
or along curbsides
warming up to new ideas

(earlier a deadly accident
occurs on a lonely street corner)

you cannot hear it
nor can you sense it
you cannot even fathom it
until it slowly disseminates into the air
over a relatively short period of time



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

living the high life


the world opens up and
closes in a heartbeat

you knew what it was like
to be on top of the world
reaching up and touching the sky
challenging your ego
and your super ego
to go even higher

there are many ways
to reach improbable heights
whether legal or otherwise
naturally or artificially
or simply metaphysically

there are many ways
to reverse the trend and dive
deeper than any man
has ever dared gone

neither heights nor depths exist
where you are destined to reside
once the world opens up
and closes in a heartbeat



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

winter solstice


the day brightened just before noon
and so it seemed spirits did the same

city streets awakened from the freeze
newly bustling and sloppy
old snow sadly discolored
passersby warmly dressed
walking briskly and
suppressing their emotions

the angle of the setting sun
made it impossible to move forward



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

and hoping not to die


at first there were a dozen of us
(actually a baker’s dozen)
and we knew everything
there was to know
about each and every one of us

one by one each of us fell
but most of us got back up

but that was seemingly
centuries ago when we didn’t
realize not all stars shine
and the moon can be visible
on the brightest of days

(not having all the facts)
nonetheless we made a pact
heart to heart
    and eye to eye
promising nothing
      except for inevitably
going our separate ways



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

she’ll beat you when able


they saw her just the other day
but like some imperfect card trick
she disappeared in the shuffle

she was a jack of all trades
trapped in a queen’s body
banished from the castle
like some common outlaw

her transformation surprised
yet inspired the locals
swapping stories how she
easily slipped past the
king’s final outposts

some say on certain nights
her newly born image sparkles
like diamonds on the silver screen



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

slender is the moon


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

to catch a glimpse of harmony


I may not know
exactly who I am
but like the bluebird
in your heart
I’ve a good idea
who I am not

people feel compelled
to define you
without a true source
saying you are this
or you are that
adding to the confusion

all I’m saying is we
should be friends
whether you be as near
as kalamazoo
or as far away
as timbuktu

if I owned the night
I would gladly
hand it over
along with all the lights
that shine
forever in the sky



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

peace and serenity reprised


how is it you can turn nothing into
something in a matter of seconds

you reach up and snatch some fresh air
(without ever going outside)
and when you open your clenched fist
the place smells like lavender and lemon

it was you who opened your heart
to peace and serenity
recently pardoned by the sitting president
released into your custody after serving
thousands of years of a life sentence

there’s so much more I need to learn
you remember eagerly telling them
now let’s roll up our sleeves and figure out
exactly who needs us most



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

before the honeymoon


the war ended the day
before the winter solstice
and on the next day
on sunday morning
the newspaper arrived
without fanfare

the blizzard never came
as predicted
and the parade downtown
well
it was canceled

a few of us decided
to meet at a tavern
in the old town district
sampling for the very first time
local craft beers
and delicata squash

when the sun went down
we went our separate ways
like we had always done



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

places buried in the past


I did not know her
but I was compelled
to find her final resting place

it was a bright but cold december day
but I kept warm in the car
driving mindlessly past corn fields
mile after mile after mile
stripped clean yet ruggedly barren

the interstate traffic was heavy
and I wondered how many seekers
if any
had set off on a journey
to find her final resting place

google maps told me how to get there
but I only had to read the directions once

and when I got there
it was as if I had been there all along



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

santa’s little blue bird


I witnessed first hand
how santa claus hijacked
a short bus half-filled with
excited yet misinformed misfits

you could see him barreling
down route 13
allegedly screaming out a list of names
bouncing on the driver’s seat
failing to get the little blue bird
off the ground



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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