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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “Poetry”

26 Dec 2019
7 Comments

the gardens of babylon


as my memory fails me
I attempt to recapture
my chain of thought
especially concerning
what we’re fighting for

the gardens of babylon
belong to every man
woman and child
created by a power
mightier than any sword

yet destruction reigns
the gardens simmering
with smoke and fire
wiped out by a million
and one shooting stars

taking in my final breaths
I rejoice believing
the gardens of babylon
will return in all their glory
free from any threat of war




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , ,
25 Dec 2019
4 Comments

transcendental meditation


over the river and past the clearing
I fly where the wintry winds take me
spreading my translucent blue wings
void of any single solitary thought

my traveling companion holds on tight
in sync with my soundless breathing
inquiring within how on earth this flight
could possibly transcend even higher

I convey the end’s neither near nor far
this journey is simply a new beginning
accelerating and climbing effortlessly
soon to breach the next known barrier




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
23 Dec 2019
2 Comments

forbidden fruit


four small green bananas
three abstract oranges
and two heart-shaped apples
overfill round wicker basket
posturing freely above
false granite countertop

don’t touch don’t touch
the artist with nine brushes
shouts from out of nowhere
putting a halt to hand reaching in
and mysteriously withdrawing
as if overtaken by guilt




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
22 Dec 2019
5 Comments

and so the dream continues


she wakes and I sleep
the day has yet to break

sounds from below
incorporate into my dreams
sights and smells and those
unusual turn of events

I switch to my other side

there’s no sense anticipating
that tap tap tapping
on my second story window
something tells me
there are other ways
to be awakened
whether on my own or by
someone far and away
from someone
who once loved me




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
21 Dec 2019

children of the moon


at what age does a child realize
the moon can take only one shape
            that of a flattened ball
and all other perceived aspects
       whether real or imaginary
         are mere manipulations of light
and angles      also known as
            geometric trickery

a child unloosens his hand
from his mother’s and points up
            at the sky
       declaring there do you see
in broad daylight
            he dares to show himself
       the same but altogether different
from the moon of the night

how can such an ancient body
continually become new
            living and dying every
thirty-some days while the rest
       of us grow old
          making every child believe
its ageless      grey skin
       miraculously remains white




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
20 Dec 2019
2 Comments

stress test


listen to your heart
quickly picking up the pace
beating in five and seven sixteenths
for no good reason
if only to let you know she’s still around
able to get your attention with a simple
snapping of the fingers
eventually quietly settling back down
minute by minute
and retreating
to a healthy resting rhythm




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged , ,
19 Dec 2019

circling back to earth


how many moods can I assimilate
on my own
brought on by perfect moon-like circles
floating freely overhead
or succumbing to the laws of gravity

real or imaginary clinicians
challenge me to interpret the moods
though they’re the ones
lying flat on their backs
pondering my questions as I sit upright
legs crossed and face
expressionless

let’s get back to the circles I say
but nobody is listening
and I find myself freely on my own
just like it was in the beginning
questioning nothing
and taking in everything
as if I was preparing to be born




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
18 Dec 2019
3 Comments

sequestered until the equinox


inevitable like astronomical winter
there is no stopping the fall of december
or the rise of the new year

now that the sun is at its least powerful
you imagine what will keep you warmer
hot chocolate or kentucky whiskey
an old quilt and quiet reminiscing

you wonder where everyone’s gone
when or if they’ll ever return
leading you to recall old photographs
stashed away in cardboard boxes

in the back of your mind you take your time
and flip through each and every one




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
17 Dec 2019
4 Comments

castles made of sand


wake up wake up
the moon she is arising

grab your ugly sweater
the one that amuses me in my dreams
and meet me at the shoreline

stuff your pockets with little candies
leftovers from late october
we’ll pick and choose as we please

lockstep in bare feet
we walk silently hand in hand
counting castles along the way

kiss me kiss me
for I fear I may be awakening




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
16 Dec 2019

reworking the soil


the dead man is gone
and here we are back where
we started
trying to sort it all out

maybe next time it will be me
and then nothing
will ever need to be sorted
out again

until then there is work
yet to be done
so pick up your shovel son
work awaits us in the fields




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
15 Dec 2019

learning at an early age


after show and tell tuesday
comes situation wednesday
where kindergartners take
what they learned from the day before
and apply it to the art of self-defense

there are no rules per se
except that all must participate
to advance the safety of the collective whole
not only within their tiny space
but everywhere near and far




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
14 Dec 2019

seeing right through me


something’s in the water
love must be in the air
pleasantly palatable
like a sweet red wine

often I’m reminded
of all the lost souls
searching for love
no place to escape

the river is low
and the moon is high
walking hand in hand
turning back time

now you see me
and now you don’t
rewinding eternity
brings you back to life

something’s in the water
won’t you have a taste
palatable like your eyes
seeing right through me




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
13 Dec 2019
2 Comments

what would she have done


this world was meant to know her
an imagination sprayed artistically
in and out of the city and from town to town
on sidewalks & ramparts & brick walls
her soulful voice sound-checking microphones
anywhere in the middle of summer
from coast to coast and points in between
beautiful crowds gathering ‘round
eager to witness & listen & experience
anticipating something never to be seen




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
12 Dec 2019

living wood


using century-old claw hammer
we pull the rusty nails
out of the two dozen body-sized
boxes that had drifted to shore
over a fortnight ago

the cedar had dried out by then
its aroma replaced
by the sea and the moon
the contents succumbed to the same
awash and long forgotten

little by little we straighten out
the nails as delicately as possible
the captain in his makeshift quarters
working on his latest designs
to finally free our minds




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
11 Dec 2019

party crashers and grave diggers


how are we to keep track
of lives lost to the night
didn’t I see you inspecting
tomatoes at the farmers market
some sundays ago
donning floppy hat and
full moon sunglasses
a giddyup in your step
and smile on your face

the city is slowly replacing
all the streetlamps downtown
as if there’s nothing
better to do with property taxes
or maybe it’s a grander scheme
to keep the citizenry distracted
from what’s really happening
all around us

I heard they said thirteen
hail marys in your honor
before mixing a bowl
of your favorite cherry red drink
singing and dancing well past sundown
the evening eventually coming
to a complete stop
after some purse thief made off
with your daughters’ identities




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
10 Dec 2019
3 Comments

recorded from memory


by the time I reached twenty-one
I had nearly died two or three times
but not once did I ask
is that all there is

now that I think of it
three times is probably an
understated calculation
and truth be told
I was shot dead
four or five times by danny burke
back in the summer of sixty-nine
each time resurrected by
cigarette-smoking and pie-eating
self-trained teenage witches

it’s funny what you remember
when reworking your
obituary [from memory]
for the seventh or eighth time




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,

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