jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

inside the apothecary shop


here we remain at an impassable place
a sheet of glass preventing us
from moving forward
as if we’ve become prisoners
without a sentence
unaware that the trap was devised
by an otherworldly hand

having lost our wings
we remain very much alive
recalculating & redistributing
the wealth of knowledge
to the very best in their fields
who expeditiously formulate
that which will burn through glass





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

getting back on your feet


another first night out
a series of dates
that stop & start over a lifetime
some of them shorter
and some longer
most of them likely
in-betweeners

the angle of the sun
doesn’t scare me
but unlike the drama of the moon
any & all changes are
noticeably subtle

[if I think about it for far too long
I gradually become someone else]

life is a series of choices
more often than not
leaving you without options
but it’s those times
that they do
that will ultimately define you





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

in and out of thin air


out of thin air you arrive
like a meadowhawk
in a muted brook
solitarily going about her day

there are no answers here
this much you know
skipping from place to place
your restless soul frozen in time

though your departure
may go unnoticed
mother earth will remember
your presence remains extant





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

singing in the rain


the rain barrel is empty
going on a fortnight now
and the flowers
oh the flowers
they’re in need of a good cry

I’ve been dancing
every night in the twilight
the dormant grass
beneath my feet
an exhibition
to any god who may listen





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

last of the morning sun


she furrowed her brow
the girl with the brown hair
she pouted & she smiled
brushed back her brown hair
using either hand
& slowly walked away


what does she see
when she walks away
suddenly it’s present tense
& I sense tears
welling in her eyes

she is sad she is sad
there’s no question with this fact
she is sad
she is sad
the cause of her disconnect
unknown to any of us

she sees nothing
when she walks away
neither past nor future
the present tense
is all there is
& by the look in her eye
nothing seems promising

why did she furrow her brow
or pout or smile
& why did she suddenly
walk away
when everything
appeared to be so promising





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

intercepting inner city messages


five hour energy doesn’t
do much good
in these here streets
you’re better off using
old fashioned razor blades
& disposable needles

the neighbor’s cat
has gotten pretty good
at keeping us mostly safe
flashing the all clear signal
when not whoring around
from dawn until dusk

the building frowns upon
out-of-state visitors
but they’re usually the ones
with the best product
& with the cat’s help
we’re able to smuggle them in





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Judith


The church is empty
no thanks to the pandemic
they’ll never come back
the Father said
they’ll never come back


What kind of god is this
that takes away your pain
by way of death
what kind of lie
are we living when you die
with no one by your side

It’s not like your sins
are any worse than those
who drove in the nails
it’s not like you deserve
to be hated in the end

Where do we go from here
after all has been forgiven
after the weight of the world
has been lifted from the
burdens that we bear





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

cleaning house


the good china
shattered into pieces
and a collective sigh of relief
naturally ensued


heaven hath no dust
or so I was taught
neither having time
for anything shattered

there are plenty
more memories to shatter
continuing to work
from room to room





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Summer of violence


Lennon once sang about happiness
being a warm gun
an ironic musing in the final analysis
and something that always
struck me as très bizarre

Where I’m going here is nowhere
over forty years later
hundreds of Lennon’s killed per day
(by way of a warm gun)
in these Violent States of America





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

alive like a stone


what’re you gonna do
with that stone
in the palm of your hand
the one about the size
of a partridge egg


it seems to change
colors for no
apparent reason
a dead giveaway
it’s likely not
from around here

it’s a world unto itself
is how you put it
going on to say you’re
attempting to mimic
its radio frequencies
resting & pulsating
in the palm of your hand





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

as often as humanly possible


you don’t know my world
maybe have an idea of my world
yet they are far from similar
far like how very small is to
extra extra large


you seriously question when I tell you
(with a wink of an eye)
all my worlds are one in the same

yes it’s true I have two eyes
but rarely use them for seeing things
that is left mostly to my
imagination
that thing we both possess
but rarely use

both of us can move mountains
but rarely will we go
to such extremes
instead I prefer to put
bread in pockets
and you silver & gold coins

we are neither paranormal
nor magical or mystical
neither god nor godlike
we walk the earth
(and sometimes levitate)
talking a good game
and changing who we are
as often as humanly possible





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Looking for Christopher Robin


for Aubrey Jean Mayer

We start naming things
out of the clear blue sky
that oak tree is a monkey spider
the park bench
a Tyrannosaurus Rex

I tell you I’m older than those
hills like white elephants
but you shake your head
and say no way
and I say yes way
and you say no way Jose

She says she loves
puzzles & trains whistles
and I say yes I know
walking hand in hand
further inside the
Hundred Acre Wood





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

rearranging tomorrow


yet again changing roles
the actor moves stealthily
like a chameleon
minted coins jingling
in her pocket
sounding like stars
on dusty boots

yesterday it was bows
& arrows (and a bunch
of nonsense)
but come high noon
only silence will prevail
toting headphones
to the shooting range

tomorrow never did
arrive for this cowboy
although opportunity
constantly persisted
& that’s all that mattered
in the dark world
of make-believe





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

effectively wild


I’m not interested
in your conspiracy theories
I’m mainly focused
on craft beer & baseball

although your fantasies
are intriguing
I’m spending the bulk
of my time
stealing signs &
putting runners in motion

although I admit your
methods are effectively wild
my free time is spent
at the nearest taproom
watching the board
& seriously considering
trading on paper





july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

drifting like a ghost


there is sadness in the air you can feel it


the wind is still
and the sun comes & goes
as if it’s a domestic cat
not really knowing
what she wants

I open the door
but the cat will not enter
she just sits there
looking sad

the wind is still
and moon is nowhere
to be found
perhaps sadder than
the rest of us
solitarily crying

I close the door
and the cat begins to wail
I walk away & pretend
that I am deaf

the wind is still
and the clouds are full of rain
but the rain
does not fall
held back by something
outside of my knowing

I open the window
the winds begin to blow
exposing both sun & moon
the cat drifting like a ghost




july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

limited sight distance


asphalted back roads
layered atop crushed limestone
sporting various shades of neutral colors
black & brown & white & beige
shoulderless & curvy & up & down
like a roller coaster


how fast you go depends upon
prior experience
overtaking tractor trailers
in no passing zones
the top down & waving
good riddance good buddy

the smallest of towns
appearing in your rearview
you look forward
to the next water tower
atop strawberry hill
half moon avenue a few miles away




july two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: