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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

07 Jul 2016

two steps back


it was like a dream
there was concrete and many
shades of blue
I was trying to free myself
from a predicament
that had nothing to do with you

and so I crawled away
while you sailed interstellar space
not even bothering to write
(even when you had the time)
your vibe slowly fading
like a september sunflower

it was only a matter of time
before I caught up to you
(is what I kept telling myself)
but then I was yanked away
(yet again) by a jealous entity
determined to rattle
the coins out my pocket
and send me back two steps
to see where I went wrong


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
06 Jul 2016
5 Comments

violent was the well lit night


shots were fired overnight
like thunder and lightning
and then the rains fell
two point seven inches in all

young man staggers in
and out of shadows
low-beam street lamp
revealing bullet proof vest

sirens and flashing lights
blend in with nature
weaving through alleys
baby glocks and berettas
systematically revolving around
unrecycled neighborhoods

lights flicker off and on
frightened eyes peeking
through shadeless windows
chalk outlines on sidewalks
washed away before
cleaning crews ever arrive


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
05 Jul 2016
12 Comments

fallande med mörker

My original poem translated into Swedish & recited by Björn Rudberg

hon steg ombord
ett tåg i filadelfia
en röd paisley schal
i harmoni med hennes smaragdögon
täckte hennes rödbruna hår
i hennes vänstra hand en matchande väska
och i den högra en enkelbiljett

strosande från vagn till vagn
svävade hon liksom luftburen
då och då betraktandes
en ledig fönsterplats
hennes ögon sökte uppåt
den silvriga nymånen
jagandes middagssolen

omkring nittio minuter senare
fann hon sig sjäv förflyttad
till utanför ocean city
förlorad i en åskådarmassa
nästan hysteriskt skrattande
medan de långsamt
uppslukades i kolmörker



If you haven’t done so already please visit Björn’s poetry blog @ brudberg.me

View the original English version by clicking here


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters & björn rudberg
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
03 Jul 2016
17 Comments

down with the darkness


she boarded a passenger
train in philadelphia
red paisley scarf
complementing her emerald eyes
and covering her auburn hair
matching bag in left hand
one-way ticket in right

strolling from car to car
she drifted as if on air
pausing occasionally at an
unoccupied window seat
darting her eyes upward
at the silvery new moon
chasing the midday sun

some ninety minutes later
she found herself transported
outside ocean city
lost in a sea of spectators
cheering nearly hysterically
as they slowly become
engulfed in total darkness


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
02 Jul 2016
4 Comments

delayed due to rain


we thought we’d stay awhile
and savor the moment
but then the rains came

I grabbed your hand
and we fled as fast as our
legs could possibly go

once under the bridge
we calmed our breathing
holding each other for dear life

dreaming on a bed of rock
your beating heart
kept perfect time with mine


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
30 Jun 2016
6 Comments

slowing down this world of mine


she didn’t feel like putting on a party dress
didn’t feel like wearing a smile
no she only felt like kicking off her shoes
and putting her legs up in the far corner

the lowly lit lounge murmured with music
spoken words mingling into a single buzz
a certain mood magically created
using black lights and easy feelings

the server briskly returned with her order
nonchalantly placing a bar napkin
and half-filled glass of sonoma chardonnay
atop the table next to the plush ottoman

three doors down the show kept going on
and she relaxed her eyes
breathing shallowly
pretending nobody wondered where she was
imagining she was anything but visible


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
28 Jun 2016
7 Comments

ninety-nine years of war


it was child’s play that started it all
ninety-nine air balloons
set sail over the forbidden wall

though times have changed
war machines remain relatively the same
well maintained by treasury chests
and greased by generals trained
to always shoot first

those balloons sailing high
appearing innocently in the sky
disappear systematically one by one
or two by two
or four by four
or so on and so forth




inspired by the song 99 Luftballons by the German band Nena from their 1983 self-titled album


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged ,
27 Jun 2016
6 Comments

home on a monday


it’s after eight o’clock
and you’ve yet to call
my mind drifting
heart barely beating

the weekend it seems
never really existed
was merely reality
wrapped in a dream

all the miles recorded
by air and land and sea
play back repeatedly
like a silent movie

perhaps I forgot to say
I’ll be home by monday
or perhaps never said
exactly where I’d be


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
26 Jun 2016
7 Comments

the stillness of the heat


motionless wind chimes hang from
shepherd’s hook
a goldfinch silently perched
drenched in the spell of the summer sun

it matters not the time of day
minutes lasting hours
perhaps drifting backwards
fading shadows exposing wilted petals

the stillness of the heat lingers
unnecessarily
perfectly fixed like a photograph
beads of sweat forming on every pore


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,
24 Jun 2016
4 Comments

the next chapter


you never know when you’re going
to get that call
lifting you off the ground
and forcing you to your knees

you rehearsed it inside your head
so many times
but none of that matters
since you’ve become paralyzed

it all begins on sacred ground
you tell yourself
your world picking up speed
rising to the occasion

underneath the surface you see
mere memories
sealed inside spacious box
sand blasted and pulverized


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
22 Jun 2016
2 Comments

on the eighth day of a thirteen day binge


I received an email they found my relative
mentioned in a memorial on the
eighth day of a thirteen day binge

the eighth day was significant because
that was the day god started to party
like it was nineteen ninety-something

I remember it well
reciting bukowski into a microphone
that had no power
all the bright blinking eyes before me
snapping their fingers like
there was no tomorrow

I was surprised to find my enunciation
was quite impeccable
and I poured another glass of wine
and took another hit of hash under glass

how we flipped into the next century
is a matter of general relativity
but in the meantime these nonstop
memorials keep hitting
my stressed out inbox
methodically filling it to the limit


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
21 Jun 2016
5 Comments

waiting to be born again


she bent over and whispered into my ear
and I heard every single word she said
but I did not move and barely breathed

it was as if I was trapped in a daydream
and every single person I ever knew
walked past me as I lay dying

there was so much work left to be done
unfinished landscapes and hidden rainbows
manicures and photographs
dusty bookshelves and unlit candles

holograms and talismans dangled before me
like a mobile swaying above a bassinet
and then I realized this was not a dream
but rather I was being drawn
back inside of her


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
20 Jun 2016
2 Comments

changing course to calico


we went to the coast to relax
but the ocean turned angry
chasing us back towards bakersfield
on route fifty-eight

somewhere along the way
we stopped for coffee and gas
highway bandits lifting the surfboards
before we received our change

(none of the cellular towers
seemed to be operable
many of them laying horizontal
between barren oil fields)

the clouds above were filled with
rain refusing to confess
lightning and thunder merely
static racing through the speakers

stoned boys in back suggested
we change our course to calico
where they said the honky-tonk there
was certain to change our luck



june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
19 Jun 2016
4 Comments

may the poetry gods be with you


we don’t like to talk about the process
don’t want to give away anything
just in case it might be worth
something one day

trying to keep up with the joneses
is a no-win situation given they
rarely rely upon sleep or fortune
to achieve immortality

there are so many words that rhyme
with love and nature and
peace be with you
yet there seem to be much fewer ways
to make hatred and violence
obsolete in this day and age



june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
16 Jun 2016
2 Comments

deep six rising


I drifted along ancient streets
where good men once
negotiated fairly
where scholars texted
freely on sacred scrolls buried
deep beneath the rubble

inside the botanical gardens
the master rarely sleeps
preaching peace and
nurturing the disadvantaged
by means seen and unseen

it’s as if the city never vanished
neither conquered nor
destroyed by unnatural forces
as if the voices weeping
beneath the surface
would never rise again



june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
13 Jun 2016

emerald green are the waters


jesus wasn’t with us that day
we caught all the shrimp
he was inland teaching the little ones
how to set their sights

the wind was friendly that day
and by the time we pulled in
the sublime sun reflected off
limp sails onto gentle wakes

in the evening we all gathered
eating & drinking & listening
to all the old stories
the ones certain to be retold
rewritten for centuries to come




Photograph by Catherine Grosskopf (click to enlarge)


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Fishing, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment

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