jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “stars”

one december night


friday night in east village
streetlamps aglow
passersby breathing visibly
hands either gloved
or formed as fists
stuffed inside coat pockets

meteorological winter
yet weeks away
but for tonight
is clear and present
the cloudless sky
boasting all its shiny lanterns




december two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

falling stars


I’m no closer to being found than I was
a year or decade or lifetime ago
yet I continue to pick up words and
rearrange them in ways unimaginable

along the way I often get the shit
kicked out of me by unnamed sources
and while sometimes I pretend to like it
truth is I never do

there are these places inside your head
you often forget how to find
isolated places where stars are
bright and perfectly aligned
dying to be wished upon as they
race by in rarefied darkness




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how I wished she would be mine


she said we were friends
but I never believed her for fear
it was only a dream

I never knew who to believe
ever since I was five years old
when neighborhood boys
kicked the crap out of me for
reasons never known

on christmas eve restless eyes
survey the skies from darkened
room with oval window
bringing in the faintest lights from
places secretly existing

I spot a particular star dying to be seen
a little gem with a wry smile
promising myself I’ll revisit her
as often as possible
as long as she would have me





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

rising little star


what don’t you know
you’ve already been told before
about those bits and pieces
picked up via satellite or
ground-based microwaves

oh my pretty rising star
where have you gone
even the clouds have parted
                (in hopes of)
welcoming your return

people throughout the centuries
(from this land
                and many others)
are buying one way tickets
to get a glimpse of
what they missed the first time
you sailed away



august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in search of stars and mermaids


I stepped onto a rocket ship
hoping it would take me away
from all earthly woes

a couple hundred bucks seemed
like a fair trade toward becoming
more or less ungrounded

the view from the top supersedes
all things seen and unseen
no matter how fleeting
like a beauty queen

unstrapped and plummeting
supersonically
gravity fought the law and
contained me
inside an asylum disguised
as a yellow submarine
far below the oily surface



september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

waltzing in the twilight


she wished upon a star
so many years ago
sitting on the front porch step
I don’t even remember
if she knew I was there

she spotted them falling
one after the other
and was certain she caught
the first very one
and I wondered
what she had wished for

across the way
a street lamp flickered on
and I waltzed home in the twilight


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sacrificial is the light


out in the fields
bonfires consume the air
pushed by the wind and shoving back
sparkling like stars
and speaking in new tongues

eons away prehistoric microlife awaken
hypnotic and unknowingly
attracted to the light
traveling at the speed of a lifetime
before effortlessly giving in
with unmitigated enthusiasm


february two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

rich and powerless


the famous and fortunate
descendants of royalty and paupers
never worry about dying
for their light shines bright
deep inside their minds

flying past obscurity
they find themselves mainstream
craving to be recognized
like poets or painters
philosophers or prophets
musical artists luring you
closer to the stage

it matters not who they are
or why they were sent here
for sadly the multitude
gaze their eyes skyward
for entirely different reasons



december two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

her world as she knew it


they say there is no setting
or rising of the sun
they say it is always there
and it’s just your imagination
that sometimes it is not

with that in mind I stood at the
doorstep and handed a child
paper and markers and
asked her to interpret the
world as she knew it

from inside her mind she drew
countless circles orbiting
infinite stars
and every now and then
she placed a new moon
where you’d least expect it

I wondered how many of her
suns supported life as we know it
and as I was about to ask her
she told me she needed
more space and time


september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

metallic storm


stars are brightest in the desert
and from there you can clearly
see the other worlds

beneath the sand the past lives on
beating shallow breathes and
awaiting the next impact

time travelers land without incident
collecting precious data
left behind by meteorites

full moon pushes old photographs
onto the new shoreline
giving rise to the possibility
that life somehow lived on




june two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

jars of light


nobody asked me to share
my dreams with anyone
so I kept them to myself
nurtured them as best I could

in the middle of the night
silence awakened me
beckoned me to walk alone
in streets that never sleep

along the way I imagined
the sad ones called my name
reaching out like lonely stars
dying to find a home

I gathered them in jars
full of oxygen and hope
promised to return again
when eyes are laid down low



september two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Nothing but a Vestigial Drawing


Thousands of miles from home, viewing gardens
I’ve been meaning to plant, I sit and sketch
with charcoal on textured paper a perfect,
utopian presence like that place in Genesis.

The hotel makes me honestly welcomed
from the “Sirs” to the stars to the telephone
in the commode. In the drawing I see myself
never leaving, ever. I am drawn to be within

The shades of grass and green, contemplating
the reasons I should ever leave the stone
and glass and fabric and hospitality
that has enveloped me in this lofty balcony.

Below the waters are warm. The bodies
are near and brown, living out temporary
yet simple days, their imperfections hidden
beneath the moonlight, their conversations distant,

Calming and inviting. It takes almost nothing
to remove myself from a world a million miles
away; takes a conscious effort to check out
and return with nothing but a vestigial drawing.



original version penned nineteen ninety-eight
rewritten and recorded july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

all along the lighthouse


adrift on a raft
with no land in sight
you lie back
and make friends
with a setting sun

lost in dreams
the bulging moon
wrecks havoc
on brainwaves
regenerating

distant stars
seek rolling waves
tossing you
into a whirlpool
of endless light



march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

And So the Skyclimber Climbs


The candles burned to mask the smoke
lingering in the air. He was certain
he’d been in this room before,
though it reeked of unfamiliarity.

He continued on through interconnected taverns
that wound upward toward the sky.
Each passing story flashed old photographs
into his mind, only to dissolve and then
reproject themselves as stars in the sky.

Unclear how high the stories went
on and on he scurried. Up above, he swore,
lay reality; down below was just a past
that begged a sniff of upward mobility.



originally written
march two thousand seven
rewrite and recording
december two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

children of the light


we danced in the rain
beneath the streetlamp
our minds drifting
past the invisible moon
into carelessness

we lived in a place
without birth or death
a visual paradise
where angels in the sky
longed to touch down

at night we chanted
for the moon and rain
to call the children
hiding beyond the light
to dance
and dance again



august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I never dreamed


you forgot to tell me
where you had gone
so I wandered into the night
dreaming I would find you
somewhere safe

the night never ended
neither did the dream
of finding you
beyond the treetops
as an infinite light



july two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Stars on Water


When sails are set high
And the wind is just right
We can coast
Toward the shore
We can make it
Before light.

The stars up above
Are like a guide
That we trust
When their light
Reaches out
We know we are loved.



two thousand seven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Meteor


Beyond the atmosphere
enjoying the colorful scenery
flying really fast

Earth is my dartboard
and I am way off base

I wish I could hit the ground
but I am just one
out of trillions
flying beyond
any gravitational pull

I would lie
if I said I was part
of the dinosaur extinction

Would be wrong
if I said
I was a twinkle
in someone’s eyes

Truth be known
nobody has any idea
where I landed
beyond any planet’s horizon



january two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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