J. Matthew Waters's Blog

This poem was my first blog post on December 7, 2011.
It is now the last one on this site.
A very special thanks to everyone who visited my poetry over the years.


In my mind I draw a square
in the very center of the garden

From there I dig into the earth
using the seasoned spade
usually reserved for plantings

The hole slowly turns into a cube
as three mounds resemble
Egyptian resting places

Further down the soil
becomes hard and cold
the clay malleable enough
to mold eternal companions

Satisfied the opening
is mathematically sound
I hold the spade at my side
sweat falling off my forehead
silently instructing the child
to bring forth her loved one
to the newly built altar


https://jdubqca.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/into-the-earth.mp3

november two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I was born in Illinois
along the Mississippi
but actually never lived there

I recently discovered
the hospital I was born in
—St. Anthony’s & more
specifically the building itself—
doesn’t exist anymore

Now I’m beginning to think
perhaps I’m a fortunate son
for having never
ever lived there


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Alone in the backyard
softly singing a lullaby
I once knew by heart
so many years ago

The sky became twilighty—
I heard a lone engine
slowly whining on the tracks
miles away along the river

My little ditty drifted
& faded from memory
giving way to birdsong
ushering in the dusk

Their beautiful trills
transported me inwardly
—somehow sadness
seemed to fill the air


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

For a certain ritual
a small amount of my own blood
is required—how would you propose
I collect it

I’ve been working on my shadow effects
learning how to scare myself in case
my heartbeat gets any lower

With a little more work
soon I’ll be able to see better in the dark

The sun doesn’t shine anymore
a true exaggeration like an all night rain
keeping me depressed

Some questions shouldn’t have to be asked
the more rhetorical the better—
like do you want me to stay

Go ahead and leave me forever
acting as if forgiveness
isn’t even a thing anymore

https://jdubqca.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/maybe-ill-see-you-at-church-next-tuesday.mp3


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

my memory fails me
only when some third party
steps in & says that’s not
how it went down

while that may be the case
my version most likely
plays out much better
for everyone involved


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

One across no dice
a sip of coffee
clearing of the throat
this exercise sans
pen or pencil
thriving in digitization

One down no dice
it’s Sunday morning
this may take a while
Google forbidden
firing up this old
database in real time


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

you should consider
coming along
we’re gonna go high
high into the sky
without ever leaving
the ground

but first we’re gonna
cross an ocean
followed by a desert
perhaps resting at an oasis
to power down & recharge

soon thereafter
we’ll be climbing trees
and the tallest of mountains
knowing full well
each & every day
shall be our last

once on top
we’ll see for ourselves
so-called armed conflicts
no longer exist
in this little world of ours


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I lie in darkness
but not silence
paying attention to
my breathing
barely existing
like desert sand

at some point
I will open my eyes
and wonder
where I may be
soaring high
above the clouds
or diving deep
into an endless sea

https://jdubqca.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/preparation.mp3


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

all that lotion
thick with lavender
rubbed into your skin
all the cool slide of sunblock
& herbaceous cannabis balm
anything sweetly soothing
—what good does it do
if the glow goes unseen
and you’re the only one
who seems to notice


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

she sat at the end of the couch

how are the pillows he asked
I fluffed them just for you

she laughed knowing full well
he did nothing of the sort
replied with something amusing

from the kitchen I was listening
working up the courage
to walk back into the fray

meanwhile upstairs
my mother was quietly dying
and there was nothing I could do


may two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved