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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

09 Feb 2013
7 Comments

looking for mr. rorschach


the man in the white coat
hands me a square sheet of paper
encouraging me to tell him
what i think i see

on the white sheet of paper
a black and white monarch butterfly
stretches out her wings in perfect symmetry
her lips tasting the nectar of oswego tea
growing near a garden pond
filled with koi and water lilies

giving back the square sheet of paper
i lower my eyes and
tell the brain doctor
i see some chump sitting on the street corner
hand held out and repeating something silly
like penny for your thoughts

february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
07 Feb 2013
11 Comments

polar opposites


beauty arises from the dirt
born of age-old comets
and earthly delights
photosynthetic arms
feeding on the sun
and supporting a smile
colorful and wide

beneath the surface
a neural network
grows in an opposing way
stretching and penetrating
though the darkness
weaving absolute lifelines
for the blind to grasp

february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
06 Feb 2013
2 Comments

reconnaissance


it was a deafening ride
to the top of the clouds
and the further we climbed
the quieter the night became

one by one we jumped
through the crescent moon
the relative wind pushing us
toward our desired target

once reaching terminal velocity
we expanded our wings
and eased into the uncertainty
of a hostile territory




february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
03 Feb 2013
16 Comments

i found a box of old poems


the poetry i wrote ages ago
doesn’t belong to me anymore

the person that wrote those lines
of despair and shame and utter honesty
has long been gone

it’s almost as if he died from self-inflicted wounds
from too much booze and tabacco
and whoring around
from not giving a shit about work
or baseball
or forgetting to buy chocolate and roses
on valentine’s day

reading page after page of the drivel
i want to tear them to pieces
but something inside me
won’t let it happen
because deep down i’m in love with the words
that used to bring me joy knowing my misery
was no different than yours


february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
02 Feb 2013
13 Comments

Researching the Madness


The lines go back far they do
lines drawn on a map
from somewhere in Pennsylvania
via Antwerp and Brussels

The little girl grew into an iron-fisted
Matriarch who rang the bell at five
to feed her boys the holiest of bread
while reciting hymnals of fear and guilt

Her shepherdless husband
followed her trail to Illinois
to a sleepy town her brother first discovered
years before boarding SS Vaderland

It was there tempers raged within
from the ethnically charged populous
but she managed self-restraint
and seldom raised her hand
against her own Motherland

But for her brother the chains broke
and wickedness unleashed itself
on Christmas Day
as the quietness of the neighborhood
exploded with a single shot of insanity

That dying branch still hangs crooked
on the corner of Rose and Lexington
its venomous DNA lingering
inside a sleepy little child


february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
02 Feb 2013
3 Comments

Untitled – Circa 1984

Dedicated to Gary W. Keena
March 1, 1952 – February 1, 2013

What have you to live for
before you leave this world? before you’re on your own?
What cause will you die for
in your final hour? at your greatest need?

Tell me before you leave, what have you to say?
Tell me of the lonely riddle and the unknown way.

Old man, sit up straight,
don’t cough away your life…don’t hide your eyes.
Listen to my words of wonder;
do they matter? who really cares?

Answer me one question
before you leave this world…to satisfy my fear.
Tell me if you know
where you’re going next…tell me of paradise.

Today, today, it yearns for yesterday;
take me back one day so I might know the secret of creation.

Tell me before you leave, what have you to say?
Tell me of the lonely riddle and the unknown way.


About Gary


Poetry Video

recorded and posted february second two thousand thirteen
originally written circa nineteen eighty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , ,
30 Jan 2013
4 Comments

remake


there’s nothing new
going on around here
except for elvis and jesus
walking the streets again

everywhere around the globe
people are revolting
while special forces make sure
they’re in on the action

the price of oil fluctuates
like the unpredictable warming
giving rise to speculation
the end is already here


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
27 Jan 2013
12 Comments

the dream of the butterfly


when i was a butterfly
i floated with the best of them
from country meadow
to urban garden
my world an eternal adventure
of technicolor and sound

when i was a butterfly
children chased me with their nets
but my keen instincts
evaded their hopes
of ever capturing the beauty
forever felt in their hearts

when i was a butterfly
every day was like a dream
of first impressions
repeating themselves
toward an expanding evolution
of psychedelic freedom



january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
26 Jan 2013
7 Comments

landslide


for centuries the sloping hill
produced a bouquet of artistry
sewn into the grass
and handpicked by flower children

an annual blizzard blanketed
the hill and invited participants
to hasten up and down
using any means possible

as the city slowly crawled outward
leaving concrete in its wake
the sloping hill cried
shaking and moaning and hurting

the forward motion gradually
violated the internal integrity
of her existence
until one day without warning
she simply
sailed away


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , ,
25 Jan 2013
14 Comments

just what the world needs


there are too many bad guys
running around.
they’re everywhere
and they make everyone nervous.

these bad guys either carry guns
or they have access to them
or they have whole armies
at their disposal.

there are too many bad guys
running around.
they go to school
or work for the private sector
or the public sector
or no sector at all.

the bad guys either work alone
or become organized as gangs:
some considered illegal
and some considered legitimate
depending upon your perspective.

there are too many bad guys
running around and can be found
anywhere on the planet.
just pick a spot.
they are on television
and some of them provide the news
about the bad guys in waterloo
or shanghai or timbuktu.

there are too many bad guys
running around and they aren’t
going away anytime soon.


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
24 Jan 2013
8 Comments

transit kiss


waves created from a kiss
blown from the palm of my hand
transverse through space
in a spherical spin
attracting electrons and positrons
in twin phase arrangements
before completely absorbed
deep into your skin

‘transit kiss’ youtube video


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , , , , , ,
23 Jan 2013
4 Comments

purple heart


thoughts begin to falter
as my blood pressure
takes a sudden drop

helicopter blades cut
into the dark night
racing toward the cross

on the ground miracle
workers scramble
to prepare the table

it’s gonna be all right
someone told me
is all that i remember


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , , ,
21 Jan 2013

listen up


she’d been crying
but that was nothing new
nothing a few drinks couldn’t fix

she adjusted herself on the park bench
stretched her neck and
crossed her legs
eyes clearing and focusing
on all the people walking by

if only i could warn others about him
she mumbled
there wouldn’t be a next victim
and his toxicity
would just drain away
like a dead car battery

if only i could tell others
to run the other way
if they ever encounter
this monster
they would never know
how he’s destroyed a few homes
and brags about sleeping
with married women


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
20 Jan 2013
9 Comments

how deep is the sea


sitting cross-legged on the floor
my mind shut the door
and i was left alone
in the dark
with a candle and a match

i closed my eyes and focused
on a fire burning in the belly
of a giant fish that swallowed me whole
delivering me to unfathomable depths
where indescribable creatures
ruled an invisible world

as ocean waves crashed on top of me
the door violently swung open
and the room became drenched
with natural light
my hand still holding
the unlit match
the candle
nowhere to be found


january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Fishing, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , ,
20 Jan 2013

casey’s dream


in the dream moses
splits the field of dreams
and turns a bush
into a bonfire in the center
of centerfield

notables like mantle
and cobb and simon peter
chew redman and spit
into the fire
casting pearls before swine
and laughing like little girls



january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Baseball, Dreams, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
19 Jan 2013
2 Comments

something’s missing


i searched everywhere
for the button
that fell off my favorite jacket
but i just couldn’t find
the damn thing

it was as if the world
was testing me
to see if i would dare go out
wearing such a beautiful jacket
with a button missing

i opened the refrigerator
and there stood
a dozen pale ales suggesting
i drop the needle and thread
and let the button go



january two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,

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