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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

16 Oct 2016
8 Comments

bull frogs and fairy tales


pretty princess sleeping on bed of nails
unable to differentiate between dreams
and real life kisses on the lips

at the hotel hilton she sleeps in
every single sunday
undisturbed by pretty maids wielding
feather dusters and vacuum cleaners

on mondays she checks out early
wandering the commonwealth’s streets
steering clear of the king’s wishes
and searching for something italian



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
14 Oct 2016
6 Comments

he sure plays mean pinball


it’s friday night and I should be brushing
up on my pinball prowess

my disciples lately have been frowning
upon my lack of attention to details

oh the hell with them
and oh the hell with all of them
they prey on my abilities to no end
only becoming frustrated themselves
turning back time or should I say
turning inward
and begging for forgiveness

the world is like a simmering pot
of stone soup
royal chefs and political strategists
stirring in their own special interests
(making it only taste worse)

in the meantime
there is a worldwide distraction
on television screens
and the internet of things
courtesy of one unchallenged man
deaf and dumb and favorably blind



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
13 Oct 2016
8 Comments

getting down tonight


it was supposed to become easier
(as I get older)
and in some ways it has
thanks in no part
to google girls and their entourage
disguised as tiny dancers
searching for a better discotheque

out of focus for a reason
but dead set on seeing things
(as they are until the very last sunrise)
I look past the mirror ball
twinkling inside your irises
exposing newly found worlds

in my next world everyone grows
younger with each passing heartbeat
dancing (as they say)
like it’s nineteen seventy-six

how many times have you told me
not to cry when meaningful ballads
happen our way
how many times have I wanted
to be just like you
dressed in star-studded jumpsuits
and sporting sexy determination



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
11 Oct 2016

resetting the calendar to zero


this world inside a world
is swelling and threatening
to burst open an entirely new
third order onto the scene

it’s easy to slip in and out
of the lesser world
fraught with deplorables
running exercises inside sewers
checking for daylight through
cracked concrete and faulty plugs

skyscrapers rise and fall
crashing and burning at
unrealistic velocity and power
potters and mad scientists
continuing to reconstruct

once this world inside a world
begets the new third order
there will be an unimaginable peace
only a few will come to understand



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
09 Oct 2016
2 Comments

cross my heart and hope to die


there’s applesauce in the pantry
and concord grapes on the vine
so please tell me why oh why
you won’t be home to taste some

since you’ve been gone I’ve put up
fences to keep the deer from stealing
all your day lilies

at night there is a single candle flame
lighting up the upper corner room
where nobody sleeps inside

sometimes the morning winds bring
a burning desire to step outside
and ring the dinner bell on the hour
every hour

after the sun sets and the first star
appears in the eastern sky
I make a wish and close my eyes



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
07 Oct 2016
8 Comments

like no tomorrow


my inner clock
wakes me when
I am tired
reminds me to take
pictures of my past
whether or not I’ll ever
revisit them

napping on couch
sunrays creep inside
my cobweb dreams
shaking them
making my eyelids flutter

photographs flash
frame after frame
like an accelerating
motion picture
the sun hardly
visible on bright canvass
falling rapidly like a
comet with no tomorrow



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
06 Oct 2016
2 Comments

the making of a rocket man


he did his hardest to pretend
he was somebody he was not
succeeding at times but mostly
faltering at no fault of his own

but as they say
there is always the next day

traveling at the speed of light
seemed to be no big deal
especially lately when time
(is of the essence)
has started it’s
inevitable disappearing act

moving forward meant
going back to school
where today’s blackboards become
filled with formulas appearing
out of thin air
where virtual cadets
(from places near and far)
inquisitively take notes of a most
intriguing destination



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
05 Oct 2016
14 Comments

midnight intolerance


some kids came by the house
on the fourth of july weekend
looking for signatures

they explained that hornets
had been moving into the neighborhood
and they’ll be damned
if they’re going to sit idly by
before a few turned into a swarm

I told them I wasn’t going to sign
their damn petition
that I liked the hornets
that I even kept some out back

I locked the screen door
and walked away
ignoring their name-calling
concerned how my outer walls
just became prime targets for
midnight egg throwing practice



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
03 Oct 2016
6 Comments

the nine mercenaries


he looked like the kind of cat
who always hung out
and nobody really noticed
sinking into a piece of furniture
worn out by cheetos and
baked over the years
by ultraviolet rays

on occasion
and for months on end
he would vanish
monthly rent payments
arriving like clockwork inside
legal envelopes postmarked from
cairo or algiers or timbuktu

eventually returning he
managed to escape headlines
and ticker tape parades
opting to stealthily appear
in his favorite spot
licking his wounds and
counting down the days



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
02 Oct 2016
7 Comments

in search of november one


wishing and praying
for some things to change
not intending to look back
too far though
when mistakes happened often

sometimes I ponder the things
she used to tell me
about baseball games and
voodoo dolls
about false gods and how
to stay in the clear on the
cloudiest of october afternoons

thirty days yet to go
down that moonlit alley
where alien notions inside your head
contradict any fears you ever had
about entering the next dimension



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
01 Oct 2016
8 Comments

breathing back to life


it was a shapely leaf
seemingly frozen on the asphalt
burnt orange and brown
with spots of faded yellow
and streaks of barn red

I happened upon it strictly
by accident as I crawled
on my hands and knees
searching for a place to sleep
through the dead of winter

picking it up carefully
I cupped it gently in my hands
cold to the touch like the
thinnest of glass
fragile like fairy wings

as it warmed in my palms
I blew on its outer edges
its unforgiving blades shuddering
like a little baby bird
or a big colorful butterfly



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , ,
29 Sep 2016
4 Comments

white flags and civil wars


it’s only a matter of time
before the next city gets sacked

it could be yours whether or not
you like being alive or dead

you could be sitting in a mosque
or a church or a temple
or in a gazebo in a meadow
or on a deck overlooking a lake
or out on the river fishing for trout
or out on the sea fishing for men
or inside a corner tavern
open for business on any given sunday

everywhere there are people
inhabiting this place
putting two and two together
questioning the laws of nature
ninety-nine plus percent certain
killing has nothing to do with survival



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Fishing, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , ,
27 Sep 2016
4 Comments

angel in my oldsmobile


sometimes my inner workings hesitate
like a sixty-nine cutlass

in the back seat my hopeful angel
looks out half-opened window
elbows on arm rest
chin supported by hands

eyes cast upwards she interprets
unspoken words
as they race past silently
like high-flying clouds

the night sky indicates
low temperatures are inevitable

but who’s to say when autumn
shall begin and end

there comes a point where nobody
really cares when the dead of winter
has finally set in

and as long as I have my angel
inside my winterized oldsmobile
I’m bound to witness
the ides of march again



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
25 Sep 2016
9 Comments

into thin air


she sat reading a book
never looking up as the train
raced and abruptly stopped time and again
as if it had some place it needed to be

she reminded me of a morning star
transiting along smog filled clouds
maybe noticeable but memorable
slowly becoming consumed by a rising sun

I raced and stopped like the train
attempting to get closer
drawn to discover the title of the book
or why she always disappears



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
24 Sep 2016
3 Comments

a private conversation


where do you go in that mind of yours
when you are nowhere to be found

what triggers do you keep in your pocket
that nobody knows about

those poems you used to write inside
virtual greasy spoons
they’re plastered now
nearly everywhere
giving inspiration to all things living

I swear I found you more than twice
walking the streets at midnight
blinders on either side

I begged you to take my hand
I swear I believed I could have saved you
but you heard nary a syllable
and reluctantly I turned away
listening to your very last words
resonating



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
20 Sep 2016
8 Comments

will you die for him


children playing out back
unrestricted by all the fences
digging foxholes and
sowing the lord’s seeds

dinnertime bells only delay
the inevitable
and just as their bellies
will never be full
most will find it nearly impossible
to ever grow old



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , ,

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