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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

21 Dec 2020
2 Comments

Anthropocene


The report argues that as humans and the planet together enter a new geological epoch — the Anthropocene, or the Age of Humans — all countries must account for the pressure its people are putting on the Earth while confronting dramatic imbalances of power and opportunity.


Anthropocene

Let the arguments commence
epochs are difficult
to define
ready
set
[have far back do you want to]
go
but this one
this one             is much different
having involving
the human collective
[at least the smarter of the bunch
if you want to call it that way]
putting us squarely
            in some form of geologic
compartment
like some form of arrogance
or hubris or self-flattery
believing the influence and the force
has become
                        god-like
able to move mountains
and destroy
            beautiful cities
with a single
solitary command





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry and tagged , ,
20 Dec 2020
2 Comments

I pledge allegiance to thyself


here we are vulnerable to the masses
as much as we are vulnerable to ourselves

hitting the streets by any means of conveyance
now just as dangerous as staying put
doors locked & curtains drawn

so much of what’s out there has become
unrecognizable emotion
passions transformed into rage
the latter on the loose throughout the streets

what is to become of all this insanity
and where do we possibly go from here





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
19 Dec 2020

short summer nights


three hummingbird feeders
hang from the rafters
inside the old gazebo
located in the back far corner
of the property
one hundred some steps
from the sliding glass door
refilled every daybreak
by the old man
the homemade nectar
prepared the night before
by the missus in the kitchen





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
18 Dec 2020

revival


you are tired
but not broken
gathering your strength
for seven eight nine days now

eventually you decide
to make a sound
a lowly dog growl
a lonely bird in a naked birch
in a late october afternoon

but nobody sees you
and you retreat
back into the shadows
the orange sun
sinking fast

you open the palms of your hands
and give thanks

you open the door
and discover there is even more





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
17 Dec 2020
6 Comments

on new year’s night


all of the commotion is over
everyone having gone their own way

it was dark & cold & windy
but then again it was winter
and there was nothing left to see

I shut the door & turn off the light
listening to the laughter
continuing to echo throughout

I sit down & concentrate
on lowering my heart rate

sometimes I wonder
where my soul ventures
when I am sound asleep
having abandoned all former lives
there is only one place left to go





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
16 Dec 2020
5 Comments

no consequence of the word


I’m losing my eyesight
it’s been a slow process
transpiring since
the day I was born
a genetic reality passed on
by nobody’s fault of their own

as a lesser prophet
my visions are my voice
and whether or not
you like what I say
the darkening of my peripheral
has no consequence of the word





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dogma, Poetry and tagged , ,
15 Dec 2020
3 Comments

you said you’d be right back


there are pieces everywhere
inside & out they are strewn about
perhaps it’s best
they stay that way

it’s not my mess
but that doesn’t mean I don’t care
doesn’t mean I may not consider
picking them up & putting
them back together

there’s a difference between
keeping someone artificially propped up
and allowing them to fall
time & time again

but for the last time I tell you
these ever elusive pieces
[you so carelessly let go]
can easily be found en masse
in the air & the land & the sea





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
14 Dec 2020

until it was too late


I’m at your mercy
it’s always been this way
ever since my very first breath

who you may be
is constantly changing
adding to my ongoing confusion

your whereabouts
are never exactly known
coming & going at your leisure

at times undetectable
once for so many years on end
I came to believe you were nothing
until it was too late





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
13 Dec 2020
2 Comments

eighty feet & counting


it was a shock to the body
a rude awakening if you will
plunging headlong into the well
twisting & turning & falling fast

I swear I have been here before
breathing easily underwater
eyes wide open & seeing clearly
sixty seventy eighty feet & counting

there was no end in sight
which is exactly how it should be
buried treasures such as these
are not meant to be found easily





december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
11 Dec 2020
2 Comments

mind over body spirit


there’s a ghost in every machine
and the smarter the machine becomes
the more dangerous the ghost

december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , , ,
10 Dec 2020

perennial favorites


how many have you killed
through no fault of your own
or brought back to life
with your own hands

each & every one adorable
in their own peculiar way
like a rescue dog
or adopted child
blindly trusting
in your god-like eyes

no thanks to you
they grow stronger year
after year
especially once
seeing them through
the worst of times




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
09 Dec 2020
2 Comments

hands free & still alive


mile marker twenty-three
oh how well I know the on-ramp
five minutes after quitting time

as I merge on you ask me
how it went last friday night
I say it was absolutely great
though I don’t recall much of it

the usual suspects weaving
in and out of four lanes
I don’t even notice that I notice
tail lights & license plates in my
line of vision
right foot pumping & pulling back
taking in every detail of your
road trip to Kalamazoo

I’ve got you speaking
right out of the bose speakers
your voice digitally enhanced
as I take the ess curve at
sixty-five miles per hour
staying side-by-side with those
to the right & to the left of me

at off-ramp number forty-five
we know the signal weakens
and so we let each other go
hoping to connect another time




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
08 Dec 2020

ready. set. go.


it’s a quarter past seven
anything is game now
lights flipping on & off
candles waiting in the wings

juices beginning to flow
it’s a quarter past seven
anything is game now
soft music playing louder

waning luna lost in space
energy levels rise & fall
it’s a quarter past seven
anything is game now




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
06 Dec 2020

uninhibited & unafraid


there was one distraction after the next
but somehow progress was being made
custodians sweeping up a huge mess
left behind by the reluctant loser

one by one the followers dropped off
by way of a single lane bridge
herded away like cattle or sheep
counting their blessings along the way

having discovered another side exists
more & more city folk pack their bags
looking to join the blossoming pilgrimage
back to the land of grass-fed cows




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
05 Dec 2020

once the river has run dry


there comes a day
when nothing is left
not a single drop of water
not a scrap of this
or a piece of that
not a solitary thought
lingering in the air

nobody is home
to answer the phone
it rings off & on
for days on end
until eventually
ceasing to exist

what will become
of this place
once the pintails have
run out of bread
and the river has run dry




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
04 Dec 2020

Early dinner rush


On the southside of Gianna’s Italian Beef
there grows a young Hackberry
a story & a half tall
barenaked this early December
fifty or eighty Black-Capped Chickadees
voluntarily filling in
all her empty spaces
fervently chattering at four forty-five pm




december two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, In the City, Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment

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