jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poetry”

my sweet lady in pink


the apple lives large
atop the head of tells
or so the story goes

bad ones get tossed from
beneath bridges by
witness protected trolls

I’ll be damned if you can’t
find a bad seed in this
eight by eight orchard

gravity knows no bounds
not as long as dear Isaac
has anything left to say

fleshy and newly picked
still life object shines
brightly upon teacher’s desk


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Cupid’s wrist rocket


Tension in my arm stays tight
but I’m strong for my age
a fence jumper
and tree climber
a better shooter than William Tell

I thought I knew myself
better than this
nonetheless always find myself
transgressing with every
errantly blown kiss

I may not be the original
but I possess two sharp eyes
and even sharper arrows
let loose from treetops
piercing the loneliest of hearts


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

taking advantage


this never gets easy
this guessing game with no
real answers
written on the back of cards

how many times do I
just get in the car
looking for something
that doesn’t exist

how many times do I
open a door
just because I think
somebody is knocking

that thing around the corner
it’s pretty fucking scary
some of the time
and sometimes it’s more than scary
and that’s when you understand
just how alive you really are

so I hear this weekend is
supposed to be super nice
I suppose I should take advantage
of the situation while I still can


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

like wolves in new york city


he said his name was jesus
and I started following him
up the jersey shore
and though I’d never been
there before
I felt like I was in the right place

there were dozens of us
musicians and poets
landscapers and local artisans
walking side by side
and consumed by
one man without possessions

despite threatening winds
we trekked northward
toward sandy hook
a bay he preached about
days earlier when the
sun was much brighter

I can take you no further
he went on to say
(my days are always numbered)
and it was then and there
he set us free
like sheep amongst wolves
howling in new york city


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

figure painting


i could see you
out of the corner of my eye
my angel
wrapped in her own
feathery blanket

uninspired for over an hour
i picked up my brush
and hurriedly
lashed out at the paper tacked
to the easel
scratching our plumes
creating locks like thin-haired pasta
eyes ocean blue
half-open and watery
lips closed and
relaxed like a worn-out child

she did not move
and did not make a sound
while everyone else
looked the other way

satisfied
i picked up my things
and waved goodbye
told everyone i’d see them
again next week
especially
my tired little friend


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: