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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

16 Feb 2016

transfiguration


it’s the same message
many years removed
waiting to be read
or heard
dying to be understood

void of any accusations
rife with insinuation
and inside jokes
words pretend not to be
what they seem

throughout the city
electronic billboards throw
darts into unsuspecting eyes
clouding them with mystery
perhaps mesmerized
by the power of the light

there was no crow
on sunday morning
ballasts and shades
transfigured into science
needing further observation


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
14 Feb 2016
9 Comments

there is triviality in everything


somewhere in michigan the tap water
is very hard to drink
and somewhere in minnesota
somebody is cracking jokes

the old couple down the street
did themselves in
like in a bukowski poem
but this time the neighbors
didn’t have a clue
because the old man nuked
the TV dinners

these politics in these
united states
need somehow to reinvent
themselves
their labels clearly out of date
unable to stop the wave
that is about to take them over

some of us work on mainstreet
some of us forty stories high
some of us strive
to be alive
in the wires or better yet
on wifi
sometimes barely seen
except when needing to strike

in the meantime economic
inequalities stretch elastically
chartlines hitting new lows
and testing resistance points
while more and more children
act as runners in the alleys
just another piece of the puzzle
royal princes might say
that keeps the status quo
from taking life too seriously


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
13 Feb 2016
3 Comments

did you replace your heart shaped key


love letter never shared
never signed
nor placed in the mail

words on a sheet
crying to be heard
like a wounded bird

cursive thoughts
weaving sad stories
short and never-ending

lost inside words
images burn bright
only to fade away

unfolded like a map
pressed by cold hands
tracing all the creases

refolded and returned
jewelry box without song
safeguards empty promises


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
11 Feb 2016
6 Comments

toward the next tipping point


boots in the distance pounding the street
sounding off in perfect rhythm
like a faraway train

legs run in many directions
escaping lawless neighborhoods
arms signaling to the sky
screaming at nobody in particular
just calling out to be heard

airwaves are crowded with inaudible
communications
delivered in technological languages
subjected to interception and
precision translation

there is nothing secret going on
throughout the greatest cities
where multitudes
of the most ordinary
amass in breathless harmony


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
09 Feb 2016
4 Comments

the day of the descendant


I’ve studied and analyzed
so many
who have come before me
reconstructing their lives through
research and poetry

As I lay here daydreaming
(perhaps dying)
motionless (projecting translucence)
I bid adieu to friends and foes
by clicking my heels
and tipping my old gray hat
spiritedly introducing to the world
those we’ve yet to know


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
08 Feb 2016
6 Comments

lunar new year


new moon rises over aquarius
directing my attention to the 4th house
an empty nest simmering with thoughts
stirring and swirling with a little
help from mars and uranus
stoking the fire so to speak
pushing and pulling unnecessary things
encouraging inner conflict
that doesn’t deserve to be unleashed

this new moon in aquarius
seems to know everything
testing one’s resolve by delivering
glad tidings and dire straits
directly to my front door

determined not to give in
I breathe deeply in the silence of the mind
choosing instead to scatter
seeds in all directions
knowing full well
inner workings are best gathered
when the moon is full


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , ,
07 Feb 2016
14 Comments

windchill minus seventeen


on the coldest of sundays
I read the paper in bed
sipping hibiscus tea
radio station streaming
top forty songs from 1972

though the sun shines brightly
casting diagonal rays
at my concealed feet
its perceived warmth is merely
an allusion of spring

sometimes I turn my head
and count cardinals
flying past the window
probably insanely curious
as to when I’ll make
my next move


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
06 Feb 2016
7 Comments

pretending to be understood


he found himself often
talking to himself and others
at the tavern
where bartenders were able
to read his mind
through a silent language
or some other nuance

he loved to talk sports and politics
religion and economics
no topic too toxic for his liking
quick as a flash he was
and sharp as a tack
there was no disputing
his tongue never got drunk

everyone knew he made
a living catching fish
you could smell it on his breath
beneath the whiskey
underneath the fluency of romantic
languages he often
inserted into his american english

poetry is of no importance
he often told his listeners
even if there wasn’t anyone
listening
but he would continue on anyway
telling the story of the love of his life
a mermaid from the mediterranean
who indiscreetly broke his heart

and the bartender would nod
and pour something neat
between them

“aye you are johnny on the spot”
he would say
“despite my inconsistencies you’ve
always managed to understand me”


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Fishing, Poetry and tagged , , ,
04 Feb 2016
4 Comments

undeterred


we germinated seeds wrapped in
moist paper towels
trapped inside teacup saucers
left behind beneath the kitchen sink

evicted for reasons unbeknownst
to the uncaring eye
we migrated into the metropolis
finding security amongst the living

barely surviving into the spring
we packed our things
heads held high and singing
like the birds following in our wake

crossing into newfound fertile lands
we planted something new
prayed to the gods that be
our resurrected hopes would grow


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , ,
01 Feb 2016
2 Comments

midnight abduction


voluntarily confined in second story room
four walls with one door
one window
locked inside for hours
watching outside world
smartphone connected to headphones

down below frenzied family interacts
fingers pushing buttons designed
to simplify lives
modern distractions creating confusion
dinner overcooked in oven
baskets of clothes stacked high
little ones devouring soggy frosted flakes

curfew sets in
lights faintly glow
cold air and distant sirens
stream in through wide open window
convoluted dreams turning sideways
by a single scream
fists pounding a simple door
barricading teenage aspirations


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged ,
31 Jan 2016
17 Comments

lost and unfound


the cat chased the crescent moon
deep into the night
encountering near death experiences
along the way
living and dying by the hour
until inevitably unseen

with the scent of the cat
fresh in the dog’s
sensory perceptions
he searched for days on end
until finally losing track of
his long-lost friend

promising to return another day
the dog headed back home
guided by a bright satellite
looming over the city
stray cats springing from the shadows
and jumping over the moon




Oscar & Chester


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , ,
30 Jan 2016
2 Comments

a thaw in relations


inspiration lies low
like ursa minor in hibernation
like tulip bulbs
stirring in february soil

blue eyes painted over
darkened skies
peek past wintry clouds
and toward a brand new day

open arms warmly welcome
a once elusive sun
promising to thaw a world
hopeful to rise again


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,
28 Jan 2016

escape velocity


my clairvoyant dreams paved the way
for so many to get out of this place

there was no time to pack a case
no time for goodbye hugs or kisses

pretending to be pretty is a futile endeavor
when there is beauty in eternity

the difference between life and breath
is as a minuscule as the smallest molecule
intrinsically gradual like the transition of seasons
cycling within this world and the next


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
26 Jan 2016
6 Comments

surfing station to station


I turn the dial to 107.9 fm
but all I hear is ozzie or zepplin
van halen or ac/dc

I tell myself if I want to hear classic rock
I’d dial in 100.3 or maybe 105.7

whatever happened to my once
favorite retreat called rock 108
where I could always hear
something beautifully brand new
no matter how good or bad

I mean seriously
is there really not enough new rock
to make the world go ‘round anymore

the population on this planet
continues to explode
but meanwhile
I’m stuck here half-dazed
(from all the static)
surfing station to station
hoping to find a brand new groove


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
24 Jan 2016
3 Comments

snow covered driveways


in the winter I move my
badass twenty-speed road bike
out of the garage and
down to the basement where
it hangs out of sight and mind

when the next morning arrives
I take to the streets on foot
dressed in layers so not
one part of my old body gets cold
except for maybe my cheeks

some days the streets are better
options than sidewalks
because so many lazy neighbors
can’t seem to properly clear them off

you can tell a lot about a neighbor
by looking at their sidewalks and driveways

when driveways remain snow-covered
for days on end
it tells you they’re either down in florida
yukking it up with the joneses
drinking arnold palmers and
never giving it a thought if the neighbor kid
was actually earning his keep
or they’re hopelessly homebound
deathly ill or worse yet
dead and gone
without a soul in the world
wondering where they are


january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , ,
23 Jan 2016
8 Comments

as far as the mind can see


I dressed hurriedly for today’s
adventure out in the cold white country
beyond suburban houses shut
tight for the winter
smoke billowing out chimneys
and metal caps on rooftops

slamming the door behind me
I race down snow-covered streets
lined with streetlamps and skeleton trees
knapsack draped over one shoulder
carrying ice skates and hot chocolate
extra scarves and over-sized mittens

upon reaching base camp
the very last lot where town ends
and wilderness begins
dozens of boys gather where machines
made to conquer the snow sit idling
destined to take us places
not yet known





january two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,

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