jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the month “September, 2018”

13 Sep 2018

looking past forward looking thoughts


I tried to look her in the eye
but she turned away and
walked out of my life

so I sat there alone
surrounded by strangers
wondering when in the world
I’d be able confide in someone

confidence has been lacking
exuberance long exhausted
I paced the waiting room
soon found myself reading
thoughts of those around me

I sensed I had been here before
but had gotten nowhere
but this time
reading those many thoughts of
hope and resurrection
I started to convince myself
that somehow
this place must be different




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

the story always ends


I was reading short stories and listening
to soulful blues on a lazy
hazy afternoon
lost in two worlds
subconsciously conjoining them
believing (deep down inside)
my own reality never did exist

I inch toward the edge of the chair
placing book to the side
reaching for the telecaster
unplugged I experiment
with chord progressions
sort of singing beneath my breath
my own improvised dialogue




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

lost inside last encore


orchestra plays in the back of my mind
coming through not too loud
but perfectly clear
drowning out anything and everything
attempting to keep me alive

there are dozens of channels
scrambling in thin air
all of them wanting in on the action
dancing on the ledge of creation
like alternative rock & roll

others are eager to get involved
in my invitation only affairs
crawling in sprawling lines
imagining catching a glimpse of
yesterday’s american pie




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
10 Sep 2018

here on the gallows


you introduce yourself as a marionette
victimized by outside forces
controlling your outwardly actions
even thoughts from within

you ask me to touch your hands and feet
as if you are jesus christ himself
back in the flesh to save
one damaged soul at a time

though there are no puncture wounds
I begin to believe in your stories
how your thoughts connect with mine
just as you say they do

dancing at midday on public stage
your strings entangle my limbs
drawing me closer into your web
until there is no space between us

deceit and lies no longer exist
you whisper into my ear
only your insanity and my reality
exposed for all to see



september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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

in your own words


it’s getting late and the demons
have agreed to return
after being away for so long

it’s late in the day
early evening if you may
summer season fading fast
sun falling and nearly powerless
winds picking up and slightly chilly
sending mind and body shivering

shaking yourself loose of cobwebs
you walk away from the grey
turning on lights
brewing black tea
grabbing a flannel from the closet

you can hear them in the other room
murmuring and scheming and giggling
fidgeting in their chairs
waiting for you to return
serving tray in tow

as you enter they quickly change
their demeanor
slipping into their game faces
knowing full why you called them
but excited nonetheless
to hear it in your own words




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
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 , ,

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