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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “Poetry”

08 Sep 2018
2 Comments

five hundred miles to go


there is no time for crying
only time for doing
before there is no time at all

I used to run with angels
but now they only shun me
tired of my unnecessary tirades
questioning who is right
and who is wrong

now that I find myself alone
able to stitch and sew
breathing easier as they say
comfortable with isolation
meditating and medicating

with a little help from outside forces
I’m finally coming to terms with
events long ago transpired
grudgingly forgiving myself
reluctantly moving on




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
07 Sep 2018

one minute past midnight


I wish tomorrow arrives without fanfare
lazy saturday morning
nondescript and unpretentious like
orange slices and strawberry fields

magic clock on wall running backwards
chasing white mice without purpose
having nothing better to do
than nibble on yellow eye of the sun

how many mornings have I awakened
to the silent strike of dawn
cricket wings translucent and exhausted
surrendering to avian multiverses




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
06 Sep 2018

and the river rages red


they say the river flows red
(this time of year)
due to recent unnatural phenomena
such as climate change
police brutality
and civil unrest

torrential rains cannot dilute
the redness of the river
its banks overflowing
disrupting lives already in need
anguishing over missing person reports
needlessly accumulating
inside wire baskets

power brokers talk of flood walls
(to contain the problem)
but on the streets
there is no such thing as protection
there are only lives that matter
walking the finest of lines
staring down the face of injustice
red river raging from within




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
04 Sep 2018

exploring new mental territories


awakening each morning without aid
internal mechanisms change with the times
self-greasing gears constanting adapting
fueled by the sun

doors open and shut
revealing interrupted darkness
casting you out into abandoned streets
southern sky lighting up in your favor
you walk without thinking
head held high

where your feet take you is less important
than how your mind wanders
be it carving out valleys as prescribed by mother
or digging deeper underground
rediscovering inalienable treasure




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
03 Sep 2018
2 Comments

nonrefundable


history resides in books
interpreted one way and the next
just as folklore exists in spoken word form
living and dying and carrying on

of course past performance
has no bearing in what may lie ahead
so it’s best to fill your tank
and pack them books and move on

if this town was meant for you
your dreams would have told you so
speaking in no uncertain terms
like hand signals from the dead

now that your guru-slash-savior
has passed on
so too you must move forward
disregarding past sins
(that may or may not be reconciled)
and catching the next flight
as far from your comfort zone
as possible




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry and tagged ,
02 Sep 2018
2 Comments

broken lives


shadows ebb and flow
controlled by lights artificial and real
coming and going like clockwork
extending a helping hand
providing glimmers of hope to broken lives
methodically digging their own back door

imprisoned from within
their beauty is dying to be seen
hidden gems in fields of isolation
learning to bud and blossom
nurtured by mighty mother nature herself
sheltered from outsiders and themselves




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
01 Sep 2018
5 Comments

from the book of Jonah


what’s that inside your belly
swimming around
in a world all unto itself

how do you sleep at night
eyes wide open
welcoming anything
wanting to explore deep inside
like time travelers hell bent on
finding the next milky way

sometimes you imagine
morning will never come
cat scratching at the screen
more or less a metaphor
seeking shelter
or simply acceptance




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,
31 Aug 2018

final curtain call


morning rains have yet to fall
but already I hear it pounding
repeatedly on the concrete
interrupting third act
of my long-standing dream

it’s impossible to control crowds
once making mad dashes
leaving lone gunman isolated
taking potshots at moon phases
painted on domed ceilings

smoke billowing out windows
deputies arrive from all over
precisely securing the perimeter
omniscient orders echoing
come out with your hands up




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
30 Aug 2018

finding my way back home


I wander outside forgotten lines
once alive inside stories
brimming with possible salvation
now abandoned by the wayside

flashes of light dart in and out
of moss covered ravines
reminding me of one-eyed jackrabbits
racing on freshly paved roadways
testing the very laws of physics

whether in this century or the next
I’ve trained myself to exploit loopholes
and uncover wormholes
be it traveling stealthily into the future
or ever so slowly
finding my way back home




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
29 Aug 2018
3 Comments

lying low


I’ve been waiting for low tide since daybreak
barefoot and hardly any place to go
save further into the well

red sky is but a memory I’ve long locked in
ever since I’ve been able to cry

tears eventually turn to celebrations
thrown by mere mortals
choosing times and places
your spirit is certain to be lying low




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Poetry and tagged ,
28 Aug 2018

staying grounded


how dark it quickly becomes
while inside random lights appear
revealing the corner of your smile
sparking further conversations

off in the distance
thunder slowly rolls forward
majestically introducing itself
and its lowdown entourage

there must be love in the air
or so you say to yourself
winds approaching out of nowhere
from the south and west
and all points in between
twisting and turning and
shouting for all the world to hear

oh how I desire to witness
rains falling for the last time
but I’m far too busy reversing course
repairing damages previous
storms left behind




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
27 Aug 2018
4 Comments

perpetual september


just because class is back in session
doesn’t mean summer is over

out in the country
barn doors are still not shut
horses running free
chasing southern sun falling fast

back in town old school windows
are thrown wide open
faces sticking out and tongues wagging
uninterested in arithmetic
doodling one wild idea after another

sometimes october never arrives
forever waiting in the wings
oh yes sometimes
september is simply perpetual




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
26 Aug 2018
2 Comments

cracking open the code to beauty and harmony


there is something inside you
secretly killing you
planted somewhere unknown
since the day you were born

there is no code to crack
to reveal its destructive nature
or its specific location
and because its existence
is secretly inside you
there is nothing to fret about

by the time the secret is finally revealed
the way in which it affects you
will in no way define
the rest of the story
you are bound and determined to tell




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
24 Aug 2018

packing bags under moon and stars


artificial platform lifted up high
well lit by natural lights
so-called misfits down below
roaming incognito
drifting from stage to stage
seeking ways to remain unseen

they are called to act alone
though struggle to separate
themselves from the crowd
conscious of differences
whether it be in language
or religion or color of their plight

misunderstood by the masses
but certainly not complicated
they are the last to leave
after the lights have faded
belongings wrapped inside bandanas
tied to ends of bindlesticks




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
23 Aug 2018

totem


western red cedar comes
crashing down
rife with folklore
and wisdom and superstitions
having witnessed
countless cycles of faceless moons
and meteor showers

transformations don’t happen
overnight
but they happen nonetheless
creative outcomes
contingent upon circumstances
commissioned by wealthy unknowns
or chief medical doctors

artisans speak without words
wielding gougers and adzes
and knives of all sizes
giving new life
to that which still breathes
carving out new creations
as if they are gods themselves





august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
21 Aug 2018

reconstruction project


faces in the crowd
shed not a tear
assembled
peacefully in city square
collective expression
somber and lacking fear

clock tower strikes
thirteen times
midday sun hurries
behind dark clouds
hangman arrives
children duck and run

lessons relearned
nobody listening
history unrepentant
brokers exchanging
silver and gold
for black & white city




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

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