jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

newly found friends


I’ve been looking forward to nightfall of late
the daily routine having taken its toll
on this otherwise creative mind

it’s as if I’ve been beckoned by a shaman
or bitten by some magical practitioner’s bug
either promising to fly me over fields of fertility
long held sacred through the end of time

in the dead of the night good-natured fairies
pull me from my deep dark slumber
casting before my eyes colors I’ve not known
while unfolding even further possibilities





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

present day preoccupations


I keep forgetting the calendar has turned
yet another page
and it’s six days into May
and I wonder where it is I’ve been

day after day after day
you tell me you love me
yet I’m far removed from such realities
preoccupied with unfinished stories
questioning what’s keeping
the hummingbirds from returning

there are places in the heart
I’ve dared yet sought to discover
afraid perhaps what I may find
and so instead I keep my mind
busily repairing someone else’s boat
that once sailed for two





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

repairing what may be broken


she swore she would give it all up
the interconnectedness
of a fragmented world
projected in tid bits & slices of emotion
that somehow a third eye
is supposed to make whole

nobody believed she could achieve
such an improbable feat
after so many autobiographical
ups and downs of words and images
projected seemingly effortlessly
for all the world to love

how she managed to give it all up
remains a mystery of
counterintuitive discretion
leaving a stunned majority who once
thought they knew her so well
with unanswerable questions





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on the border


forget about green grass
the reality of the unknown suggests
the light is always brighter
on the other side

in a subconscious world
blind worship has no meaning
for the gods of yesterday
have lost their potential

looking back in time
you may find contrasting diversity
stretching the definition
of limitless boundary





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

singing to the choir


press your ear
against the wall of shame
and tell me what you hear

father stopped
taking confessions at noon
so if you want to lighten
your load yet today
you’ll have to wait until
the wine has been blessed

in the courtyard
there is much chatter
in the fruit trees
but they’d be happy to
stop and listen
if you have something to say

a three legged cat
guards the perimeter
with quiet enthusiasm
while headless squirrels
and widowed cardinals
come and go at their leisure





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

psychic connections notwithstanding


there are countless stars on the vaulted ceiling
visible only on cloudless nights

although unnoticeable to the naked eye
planets orbit each and every one of them

I often find myself lying down and pointing upwards
giving them names
and pondering
which ones are more likely to support life
as we know it

unlike this place I call home
none of these apples are at war with themselves
which is why I easily connect with them
as a most welcomed alien





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

late bloomers


it still feels like April
the world going nowhere fast
like a vinyl forty-five spinning
soundlessly on a turntable

of course there’s nothing
wrong with slowing things down
at least according to Simon
who relentlessly kicks
down cobblestones

cool rain comes and goes
like a game of peek-a-boo
tamping down
good-intentioned deeds
and daffodil dreams

despite all the outside noise
a quietness remains within
silently reminding you
there’s always a way out





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

counting the days


tomorrow’s may day
and here I am boiling eggs
and weaving wicker baskets

I’ve not slept for nights
worrying how I’ll get everything
done in time
30 color markers all lined up
in a row

sometimes it seems like
it’s rained all month long
reminding me of biblical
stories and recent
real life events

though the end always
remains in sight
brighter days are certain to
lie ahead
and what’s transpired
these past thirty days
[though somewhat transitory]
are anything but an illusion





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

150 foot foundations


they keep digging up bones
moving them from one
sanctioned place to the next
this time far from city lights

protesters are well-prepared
to be run over by earth movers
arm-in-arm and squatting
chanting what gives you the right

some say it’s sacrilegious
to be displaced for such reasons
as if full color panoramic views
far outweigh black & white





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pragmatism


so many people think my poetry must be autobiographical
but to tell the truth I am unsure whether it is or not. I sat up
all hours of the night last night contemplating this very idea
and was unable to draw a conclusion. but it got me thinking
about so many years ago when I was just eighteen and had
lost my drivers license before graduating from high school.
I recall it as the loneliest summer of my life even though I
have no empirical memories to support the claim. somehow
I got past it and soon was set free in Iowa City where I spent
the next four years going to college and learning how to drink
beer and smoke weed. throughout my stay I experimented
with senseless poetry. despite receiving recommendations
from more than one professor to take up a different vocation
I continued to write for no particular reason which is probably
why I don’t know exactly what it is that I’m doing to this day.





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

god have mercy on their souls


violence breeds violence
how am I not next to fall victim
unless forever denying
my own spirituality

daily horoscope reads
steer clear of stone temples
making sure to feed your dog
before feeding your own face

it matters not the holiday
be it passover or easter or diwali
ramadan or day of the dead
wherever worshipers gravitate
the sun continues to rise





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

change in forecast


the hour is fast approaching
and the well has run dry

a mother sends her child with pail
in hand out into the wild
instructed not to return home
empty-handed

the city is safer than the jungle
during the rainy season
talking heads on social media
furthering the debate

a fire breaks out in the country
ignited by lightning
chasing four-legged chattel
into the next county

a daughter sits alone in chair
rocking slowly in the dry heat
feeding her thoughts with patience
while practicing her breathing

the hour is fast approaching
and suddenly the well is overflowing





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: