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poetry by j matthew waters

Rewriting the Universe

by Daniella Sciuto & J Matthew Waters

I drew these lines ages ago without
understanding the consequences
and my desire to protect them
weakened as time wore on

I sketched these images
fast frenetic murals on the wall
portraying all my doubts
concerning this world
and myself
and then I lived on
each day passing by
these lines remained unchanged
concealed by a thin layer of imagination

I crossed the line into a new
form of reality
regaining my strength by
becoming one with creation
drawn across the land
yet the pull of these lines
that basis of all
beyond the veil of life
influenced everything
no matter how much I whitewashed
my tabula rasa was not pure
and I found myself
redrawing the lines
found myself starting all over again

this is how it both
ends and begins
with poetry written
rewritten and rewritten again
layers upon meanings
upon words
with us forever
redrawing the lines
starting all over again
whilst the ghosts of poems past
influence everything


september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

In The Middle Of Somewhere

Originally posted on abbie foxton:

Poetry Collection

by J. Matthew Waters

in-the-middle-of-somewhere-book-cover-cls
Sundays and poetry go so well together. Traditionally, the mornings are spent in some sort of recline. Music, coffee and words to rise to is my standard pattern. Poets personal points of view are intriguing to decipher. Trapped inside cryptic puzzles to piece and unravel. You find out a lot about the poet not only through their work but through their websites and interaction on social media. You can tell J Matthew Waters is passionate about his creations. http://jdubqca.com/about/ You’ll always find him sharing his and others via Twitter and I always look forward to see what he has discovered.

I often know nothing about the author till after I read their work. I find this process is fun, their life maps inside chapters to discover where the poet comes from. I prefer clues to what has shaped them to write what they write…

View original 370 more words

I Heard Him on the Radio

from the book of revelation

I heard Him preaching on the radio
streaming from station to station
delivering dire consequences to the
seven churches of the day
straying in their ways by concerning
themselves more with their own
hierarchy and corporate governance than
adhering to their original mission of
loving and serving the Trinity

But to those individuals overcoming their
faults through repentance and devotion
I heard him on the radio promising
manna from the tree of life
crowns and white garments to wear
powers to conquer all nations
pillars made in their name in the temple
and offering them the golden opportunity
to sit alongside the ultimate King


september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Boomerang


He started telling me things
little things
I had no business knowing

After a while the little things
mixed with the big things
and soon the important things
seemed to not matter so much

Every day for over two thousand
I did nothing but live alone with
my own thoughts

Of course I continued to enjoy
chocolate kisses and
group therapy and
kite flying

When he rescued me from
voluntary confinement
I screamed incoherently while
riding on the back of his fifty horses
hair blowing back horizontally
arms raised and flailing

Now after so many years since
time has turned around
and I find myself
drifting and regressing
but succeeding at exorcising
my very own demons


september two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Proclamation by Daniella Sciuto and J Matthew Waters (FreeSpace #1)

Originally posted on ArtiPeeps:

Welcome to the first FreeSpace from poets Daniella Sciuto and J Matthew Waters. Proclamation is the first of three collaborative pieces that Daniella and John will be creating together.

.

Words.

Proclamation

form my words to suit another

snatch a topic from the air

my heart beats fast in fear of nothing

do I dare

do I really dare

 

should my thoughts ever dawdle

or refuse to find new words

may the light of day forever blind me

in this world

and in the next

 

smash the pattern

defy the template

whether in this world or next

yes I dare

I really dare

to throw all thoughts up in the air

grab them

pummel them

write them

down

read them

bleed them

feel them

drown

 

out of the depths

of darkest of waters

I pull myself up

breaking the surface

breathing

in new air

introducing words

View original 215 more words

Who’s going to wear my crown?

from the book of revelation

the door in the sky took me by surprise
and at once I wanted to walk through
but gravity overruled my ambitions

though chaos rang through the land
I clearly heard His voice
calling me by reaching out
grabbing the neck of my shirt
and flinging me
effortlessly through space and time

bedazzled before the throne
I was certain I had reached the omega
snatched out of the first century
and inserted into the last

in my attempt to comprehend these
events I recalled His promise
to the church at philadelphia

death will be swallowed up in victory

I stood among millions singing
never-before-heard psalms
and like everyone else
I lifted my crown from atop my head


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

closer to home


when the terrorists moved in down the
street the other week
I worried nonstop for the safety of my children
and my two thousand twelve chevrolet

since moving in they’d been stockpiling
weapons in the two-car garage

when I called the police
they said there was nothing they could do

they’re living here legally
they said
and they’ve purchased the necessary
ammunition stamps

pausing with phone in hand
I stood looking out the bay window
watched the registered sex offender
(across the street and two doors down)
jump in his sports car and race away

my hands by my side I could barely hear the
officer on the other end repeatedly asking
hello hello hello


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

crank up the gibson


left hand glides up and down wooden neck
fingertips pressing string combinations
right hand motioning in time

fingernails pretend to be little plastic pieces
moving multiple strands and
pinging selected wires

face contorted in body english
synchronized with amplified satisfaction
streaming from little black box


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

John of Patmos

from the book of revelation

Alone on this prisoner island
the Aegean Sea surrounds me

Pen in hand I sketch images
I could not have fathomed without
divine intervention
delivering unto this world
a final gospel not even the
Authorities can contain

Back in the day we walked as
brothers from sea to mountain
countryside to village to city
healing the sick and raising the dead
like nobody had ever seen

But now all has changed
and I am not worthy to look
Him in the eye
and I find myself falling to my knees
beginning to absorb everything
He has in store

Once settling down I come
to terms with my mission:
sending the seven congregations
a three-part transcript describing
His time on earth
what has transpired since
and how His triumphant return will
supersede the Age of the Church


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

all alleys lead to sand and saltwater


walking away from the sunset
shopping for the next place to sleep
eyes remain optimistic of a tomorrow
promising pay

all alleys in this pacific coast city
lead to sand and saltwater
along the way housing is made from
cardboard and wire and unfinished dreams

familiar hopeful faces
unite and welcome the wonders of the day
their hands busily preparing
to feed five thousand


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

keeping the peace


she was an unlucky kind of girl
and though she wasn’t sure
what that meant
she loved to say it nonetheless

born scorpio with pisces rising
she always wondered
why there wasn’t a thirteenth house
one in which she could run and
hide from a world spinning inwards

safely tucked inside her
mysteriously secretive mind
she only assumes a
peacekeeping role after
extinguishing all other options


august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

101 CHANCES

101 CHANCES

A Collection of Poetry by J. Matthew Waters

Illustrations by Millie Ho

book cover

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