jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Aliens”

29 Nov 2020

alien drug trade


we got in the car
and made a beeline downtown

it was almost december
and it was goddamn cold
the northwest wind
having gone crazy all afternoon

I had the capital
and you had the road map
a big fat beaver moon
illuminating our every move

everyone knew the aliens
had the best microdust
the trick you said
was all in the translation

I’d been underground before
but not in the inner city
and as we continued
to descend further
an inner emotional voice
kept telling me to fear not




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
29 Jun 2020

rag-and-bone


let us know what you don’t want
we’re taking anything we can
get our grubby little hands on
be it metal or paper or plastic
it makes no difference
it all adds up

new forces stealthily
patrol the neighborhood
collecting sterile & burnt offerings
a project within a project
experimenting with a brand new
law & order

drones with credentials
swoop down & aggregate
whatever’s considered handsome
taking any & all hand-me-downs
(and) redefining recycling
in extraterrestrial ways




june two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, In the City, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
01 Dec 2019
3 Comments

unexplained promises


I lost you to the night so many moons ago
metallic ship sailing off into the red sky
escorted by a company of single-winged fighters

your telepathic thoughts immediately
traveled through the dynamically charged lines
sending assuring words of an imminent rescue

how I wanted to believe in such promises
unknowing if it was really you on the other end
or simply a trick of my ever-complicated mind

of course neither you nor the mother ship
ever again broke through the thin atmospheric shield
unchanged and mysteriously crimson to this day




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , ,
31 Aug 2019

let’s go get lost in area fifty-one


tank is full and bags are packed
cases of water and beer and snacks
crammed inside the trunk
red hot chili peppers’ road trippin’
auto-repeating in the rear speakers

it’s over fifteen hundred miles
to nye county nevada
and according to google maps
we’re destined to arrive there
a day or two before the twentieth




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
29 Jul 2019
2 Comments

involuntarily off the grid


while two men and a woman
fix a flat somewhere near area 51
I wonder what will be the next stop
pancakes or mountainsides
or batteries plus

I’ve not been on a bus for decades
and I’m sure as hell ain’t gonna
get kicked off this one

there was a minor altercation
not that long ago
three unruly riders [most likely aliens]
unarmed but causing a ruckus
getting the worst of it by the acting sheriff
and his newly sworn deputies
a few miles shy of groom lake

there’s no signal out here
but I’m cautiously optimistic
that too will change
killing time playing sudoku offline
on my refurbished chromebook




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , , ,
18 Jul 2019
4 Comments

green will always be your eyes


here we are back on the moon
like it was nineteen sixty-nine
year of the miracle mets

oh how I remember it well
my dear friend
staying up all night
fighting demons disguised
as russian cosmonauts

so many years later
I’m reminded in song
being with you girl
is like being stoned
a million miles from home

they say the sun is blue
when running free
on the dark side of the moon
where gravity loves company
and green will always be your eyes




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , ,
03 Jun 2019

strangers passing by


there were four of them
marching down the sidewalk
a band of brothers and sisters
as if on a mission from god

it was quitting time and I was
getting into my car as they
were swiftly approaching

to get a closer look
I used my rear view mirror
and then directly outside my window
as they passed by excitedly

they were talking to one another
laughing and smiling and seemingly
unconcerned about privacy

though I somehow understood
every single word they said
their demeanor and inclinations
told me they must be aliens

and before they made it to the corner
their aura pixelated and dissipated
like a mysterious fog quickly lifting





june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Dogma, In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
02 May 2019
4 Comments

psychic connections notwithstanding


there are countless stars on the vaulted ceiling
visible only on cloudless nights

although unnoticeable to the naked eye
planets orbit each and every one of them

I often find myself lying down and pointing upwards
giving them names
and pondering
which ones are more likely to support life
as we know it

unlike this place I call home
none of these apples are at war with themselves
which is why I easily connect with them
as a most welcomed alien





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , ,
06 Apr 2019
13 Comments

some kind of alien operation


the intensity is high in these
surroundings
but I play it cool by taking drugs
designed to keep
my blood pressure in check

I’m not supposed to be here
I tell them
but they process me nonetheless
handing out one of those
restaurant beepers that flashes red
when my table is ready

the longer I’m here the more attention
I seem to get
and when I tell them a second time
there’s been a mistake
they chortle and nod and strap me in





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , ,
02 Apr 2019
3 Comments

an american alien in egypt


in the dark in alexandria
chasing an illusion
from one continent to the next

this city is far from dead
and inhaling its past is intoxicating
no matter the time of day

greeted by angels at midnight
I’m allowed to dock and disembark
a foreigner without a guest pass

I say tell them I’ll barely be seen
walking their sleepless streets
as if back in new york city





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
24 Feb 2019
4 Comments

stranger in this land


what brought me here is difficult
to explain
almost as if I was abducted
by a team of aliens
and set loose in the city center

something or someone
wiped clean my memory
and the clothes on my body
I was vaguely certain
did not belong to me

as I walk the streets
nothing is familiar
landmarks or architecture
the language or signage
urban animals roaming about

I stuff my hands in my pockets
pull out colorful script
and silver and gold pieces
fairly certain the sum of which
will give me a place to stay
for the night

over time I will come to find
there is inspiration in the streets
in everywhere I go





february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
21 Jun 2018

waiting for morning to break


I’m like an undocumented alien
waiting in the gray room
blurred around the edges
keeping warm by candlelight

there is very little to read
but content is everywhere
and though drowsy
I stay wide awake just in
case they call my name

rows away children sleep
snickering and whimpering
unintelligible words in the air
like flashes of joy and fear




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
02 May 2018
8 Comments

in the way she moves


I’ve been making a living harvesting diamonds
from faraway planets
bringing them back to earth by way of
space savvy drones

this lucrative technology I’ve curated is keeping
rocket scientists baffled
scratching their heads and ringing my phone
twenty-four seven

I’ll be damned if I’ll give them the slightest hint
of what they already know
something about the law of attraction
and how she moves me




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all right reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , ,
27 Apr 2018
9 Comments

extraterrestrial intelligence


how are we to reconcile recent events
unable to come to terms why we
scratch and crawl and scratch again
expecting to find something brand new
instead uncovering oft told untruths

with shovel in hand it’s easier to go deeper
much further than digging like a dog
but what can there possibly be down below
that we don’t already know

dinosaur bones or diamonds from another world
mass graves from this past century
and the one before
from every century going back until kingdom come

instead of digging we learn to drill with precision
hitting veins of fools gold or liquid gold
eventually discovering wormholes
leading to china or another world altogether
places unfamiliar in a familiar way
leaving us wondering why on earth
we ever felt threatened in the first place




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , ,
23 Feb 2018
2 Comments

archaeological dig


somewhere along the beaten path
rare earth elements are spotted
here and there
haphazardly discarded by
downright dirty rotten scoundrels

little aliens scurry in the shadows
having adopted stretches
along the way
stuffing recyclables into sacks
refurbishing trash into shiny trinkets

all skyscraper trees eventually fall
their treasure imperially at risk
that is to say
having crashed and imploded
only to be mined many lifetimes later





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Nature, Poetry and tagged ,
18 Jan 2018
4 Comments

breaking the law of physics


they were bootlegging bread
(manna for their souls)
across the desert aboard
solar-powered getaway carpets

there were many contracts out
bounties on their heads
dead or alive mattered not
not as long as they had bread

some say they were aliens
newly arrived for umpteenth time
practicing rituals underground
living on contraband flatbread





january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Dogma, Poetry and tagged , ,

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