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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poetry”

25 Jun 2015
2 Comments

before this world


it’s like I had been here before
this sometimes lonely
sometimes violent planet
spinning tales of uncertainty
fighting for her own life from
forces inside and out

irreconcilable differences
fester beneath the surface
and in the hearts of men
who pretend love doesn’t exist
propagating arms races and
settling disputes with destruction

the creator casts lots and flirts
with extinction in innumerable ways
taking out ground troops in
single covert operations
recasting their souls back before
this world was ever born



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
23 Jun 2015

The Pretender


I left all these little clues where you could
find me hiding in the strangest of places
sometimes squeaking quietly like a mouse
nibbling on a morsel of cheese
casting a tiny shadow against the white curtain
other times banging pots and pans
at the break of dawn
in an otherwise empty kitchen
while you were upstairs fast asleep
my reckless display was just part of a nightmare
you could never quite piece together

During the workday when the house was lifeless
I would rummage through your old vinyls
singing as loudly as my lungs would allow
somehow knowing nobody within in a million
miles would be able to hear me

When you finally came home I was too weary
to make an effort to be noticed
could barely stand to see you so worn out
so I would wander a few hours between the walls
pretending they were part of an intricate maze
pretending I still belonged outside of them
pretending you were not as sad as it seemed



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
20 Jun 2015

saving the next city


how many miles we traveled
far from shore I do not know
the early morning city lights
flickering atop gentle waves
skyscrapers sinking into their
self-induced holes as
madmen rush to resurrect them

the fish were striking at an incredible
pace and the captain had trouble
resetting all the downriggers
while house flies persistently bit
the whitest of legs
reminding the youngest of men
everything comes with a price

at the end of the day as the boat
drifted back to shore
there were no women or children
welcoming them back home

there were no lights
no music streaming from pipes

but the streets
the streets they were weeping
streets littered by madmen
already destroying the next city



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Fishing, In the City, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
19 Jun 2015
4 Comments

we should go there more often


we used to go there often for inspiration
but when the well ran dry
we hit the road and looked elsewhere

cruising down the highway we listened
to all the greatest hits
asking ourselves repeatedly
where do all the good ones come from

lady luck seemed to be nowhere in sight
so we stopped for a fortnight
at somebody’s cabin
smoking hash and drinking gin
hoping to awaken those rhythmical spirits

we pretended there was a sasquatch
down by the lake patrolling the perimeter
throwing rocks at strangers
from behind the brush

when evening rolled in we started to hum
and strum some simple chords
the earth beneath our feet
beginning to tremble



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
15 Jun 2015
4 Comments

I’m your Captain


Everyone notices the stars
when they’re drunk from excess work
and cheap rum

At midnight the lights
disappeared and the parrots
were barely audible

Under cover wicked winds
slowly rushed in
made worse by the waxing gibbous
stretching and reaching and
slapping the crew back to life

Come high noon the ship idled choppingly
off-course but no longer taking in water

Angry and hungry a few well-chosen men
hunt down the black cat
spooked and in hiding with her Captain
feeling sick and anything but mighty



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
12 Jun 2015
2 Comments

beaten but not defeated


though he was broken
he was not defeated
refused to contemplate ending it
especially when knowing
one day things will be different
that very day when the sky will open
like never before
and the brightest of ideas
will explode like fireworks
from smokey clouds
that only milliseconds beforehand
were the darkest
he will have ever seen



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
11 Jun 2015
2 Comments

a few years earlier


a little rain won’t hurt nobody
is what I remember Noah saying
not the dude in the book
but the bartender down the street

those potholes in the city streets
Carlos said grown men were putting
goldfish inside them after the big rain
betting on who would make it last

blocked off neighborhoods
pop up overnight
those trapped inside instructed
by the powers that be
to lay low
chillax is what one of them said
until flat-bottomed boats
can bring supplies

by the time the seventh day arrived
it was every man for himself

as far as the women and children
were concerned
well they were nowhere to be seen



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dogma, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
10 Jun 2015
8 Comments

walking out of the wood


the trail started centuries ago
I could see it in my sleep
countless times
could feel it beneath my feet
step by step
weaving through rocks and streams
familiar faces diminishing
and reappearing in the wood
like angels and fairies and elves
encouraging me to proceed
perhaps protecting me
leading me past the rustic gates
introducing far-reaching fields
where the sharpest of barbed wire
could not deter me from
entering your sacredly wild dreams



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
07 Jun 2015
10 Comments

Sunday Driver


It was a Sunday and the air conditioner
decided to stop working in my
1999 Aurora

I had been traveling from small town
to small town along
highway 13
convinced I would know exactly where
I was going once I got there

the price of gasoline was much cheaper
today but I already had a full tank

there was a rattle coming from the trunk
and I kept thinking I should stop to find out why

the cubs/cards game was mostly
static on the am radio
and I had no idea who was losing

there was a sign on mile marker 66
warning against picking up hitchhikers
and it was then I realized
I would soon find purpose to my day



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
06 Jun 2015
7 Comments

the old man and the tree


that tree is still there
the one in the background
one hundred years old or more
the one you climbed to the top
again and again and again
presenting a world in its most
simplistic state
colorful and melodious and calming
shielded from life’s uncertainties
if only for a brief moment in time
when the days were long
and the nights unfolded
limitless possibilities



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
02 Jun 2015
14 Comments

pulling weeds in a maddening world


on his hands and knees he pulls weeds
the kind that creep into spaces
lacking light and common sense
often seen but seldom understood
neither envious nor empathetic of beauty
and constantly forced
to start a new life in the most
undesirable places

to think that it’s come to this
he mutters to himself
furiously yanking the stalks but not the roots
tossing them behind his back
knowing full well they’ll resurrect
themselves in a matter of days
a reminder of how maddening
his loneliness has become



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
30 May 2015
12 Comments

changing of the seasons


little bird with no song to sing
asks the wind permission
to borrow a tune
she remembered hearing the
morning of her birth

it was a little ditty a child
could pick up
rife with high notes
and often mistaken as a flute
or a fife or a piccolo

the wind carried her voice
far beyond the hills
touching the loneliest of creatures
in search of comfort and warmth
before the inevitable frost



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Birds, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
28 May 2015
4 Comments

walking in your shoes


we went for a walk because that
was all we could do
besides stopping for the ice cream man

before hitting the pavement
I greased your wheels
and you smiled and laughed and clapped
like a maniac

going downhill was harder than up
but either way I cadenced
louder than your delayed shouts of hut
two three four
hut two three

safely back home by another way
we patrolled and swept clean the place
making certain the enemy
remains buried deep beneath our feet



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged ,
27 May 2015
5 Comments

yet another trip to the landfill


there is an empty dumpster sitting in a
driveway down the street

it was delivered there yesterday I said

what the hell are you talking about she said
that dumpster got dropped off last friday

I exhale some sort of harumph
and step into the next room
quickly standing squarely in front
of the bay window
dumbfounded and staring at that thing

tomorrow will make it a week
I say to myself
almost certain tomorrow is friday again

I wonder if I they need any help over there
I yelled back toward the kitchen

silence
not even a “what-did-you-say”

I wonder if I should go fishing
I tell myself
and try to figure out exactly why
a perfectly quiet neighbor
is throwing away his life



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
25 May 2015
2 Comments

there goes my hero


everyday daredevils take to the sky
challenging gravity and defying tragedy
seeking neither fortune nor fame
simply addicted to danger
and that unquenchable desire
to stare death in the face
every single bloody morning



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry, War Poems and tagged , , ,
24 May 2015
6 Comments

under the sun


and when it rains we pray for brighter thoughts
and think of things that bind us to the earth
reminding us how we were born
from out of the darkness
like a flower or the butterfly

and when it rains we have time to contemplate
how the sun never hides
but rather is separated from us
from things out of our control
and it is then we learn to read each other’s minds
like the worker bee does her queen

and when the rain has passed our way
we shift our thoughts to wonderment and joy
like children skipping across wet grass
slipping and sliding and laughing under the sun



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,

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