jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Aliens”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how I wonder


alien boy sits on curb
waiting for night to fall
desirous of first star to appear
bringing back his smile

fast cars with one headlight
impersonate meteor showers
sweeping up passerbys
unable to pay the freight

it’s a million to one chance
but what else is there to do
besides singing the blues
or counting red cars

tomorrow’s hitchhiker
catapults away from superhighway
discovering alternatives to
hunger and desire and fear

there he learns falling out of grace
is not an option
nor dashing through the night sky
perhaps unseen



november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the wisdom that is Bob


I heard they were selling tickets to Mars
down at the corner of Oak and Divisadero
but by the time I got wind of what was
going down it was too late
the little bastards were all sold out

soon thereafter I was relating my
disappointment to Bob over a few beers
and a few shots down at The Page

meanwhile on the big screen Giants
score ten plus runs in the fourth
off the Met’s lefty starter
the scattered-brained afternoon crowd
going just a little bit too ballistic

you know old boy
(Bob goes on to say)
there are no tickets to Mars
it’s just some punk rock concert

yes I say in between swigs
whatever you say Bob



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

river landing


there was dancing down by the river
or so we thought we heard something
streaming on the radio
either that or it was a just a feeling

by the time we reached the river
disco lights and glittery balls
stretched across iridescent banks
ordinary people dancing
like radiant aliens in a trance

past the main dance floor
ushers carry flashlights of sorts
escorting the elderly and tired and mad
the displaced and the misfits
methodically boarding unchartered ferries
destinations undetermined



september two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

seeing through curtains drawn


this little town was nothing like whoville
though not sure why I mention it
if only to get you imagining
there are other worlds

on the surface nothing changes here
and everyone looks the same
whether or not they’re beautiful
or pretty or normal or something else

down here all oceans are in sync
as are rivers and streams and creeks
each and every tree relative to itself
flowers beneath their boughs
reduced to single digits
propagated by otherworldly intelligence



august two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

dysphemism


of course the aliens always love to come here
to commingle and make babies
and stop by the coffee shop to catch up on
all the latest goings-on

decades have passed before any radical
changes transpired transparently
subtle reminders that you are a mere
shadow of your former self

but those aliens they are an odd lot
they fit in so seamlessly
quietly stealing souls and trading
them in for a song and a dance



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

staging an abduction


it seemed like yesterday you said
fear sweet talking people
steer clear their way

but the next day you were gone
abducted some say
by an alien troupe

months passed before we decided
to sell your stuff on ebay
(except for the whisky and blue jeans)
though later became confident
it was you who bought them

each year on the eve of your disappearance
most all the neighbors
put a candle in the window
but as time passed
nearly nobody knew why



july two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

How they arrived with clarity and force


Lightning strikes on Miller’s farm
and days later
everything is gone

Are you sure it was natural
everyone seemed to ask
or could it have been an arrow
directed by an angry god

Local preachers try to explain
to congregations of none
exactly what didn’t happen

Meanwhile earth moving machines
continually roll in from far away places



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

there is safety in numbers


the snow here never melts
where alien camels
once canvassed frozen desert
in search of water

without rocket propulsion
below the surface is the only escape
regardless the location

buildings collapse upon themselves
like cardboard towers
filling the void with smoke and mirrors
and concrete icing

evening turns to night
charcoal clouds descending
putting to rest dragons dreaming
deep inside the mountain



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the invasion of invisible aliens


standing at the corner of 1st & 3rd
waiting for the light to turn green
fingers tumble down pockets
only to resurface empty-handed

unnoticed by the masses
newly born immigrants jaywalk
these inner city streets
crossing four lanes once occupied
by gas-powered vehicles

I’m told they’re everywhere
but mostly inside your head
emptying out your pockets like
some sort of arcane video game

I used to walk the streets at night
but it became too bright
making me feel like a second class citizen
like a moving target dodging
in and out of alleyways



february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

annual transformations


stranger is the night on halloween eve
like a mad scientist creating in the lab
saving face from an alien race

growing wings like a common housefly
aspiring to be an angel for one sad girl
laughing quietly behind closed door

time travelers get lost exploring
mountains or underground tunnels
designed to keep you trapped inside
spherically-shaped revolving objects

nothing to hide and everything to gain
he loses himself beneath her skin
stealing mind and body and soul
invisible wires tied to extremities



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

The War of the Worlds


Lines were crossed by renegade birds
twisting and shouting above the treetops
discovering yet another metropolis

Zeroing in from ground-level positions
superheroes rise between glass skyscrapers
bullets ricocheting like laser beams

There’s little room for science fiction
not when attempting to rescue a planet
speeding headlong toward self-destruction

The invasion has always come from within
often mistaken as unidentified aliens
navigating the most sophisticated machinery


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

hitching a ride back home


there is magic in the fields
you can feel it
a sort of cosmic energy
forced upon the earth from
unknown galaxies

far away from city lights
alien forces
settle in peaceful places
careful not to disturb
the natural order of things

I didn’t choose to be cast
away from perfection
but I’m thankful to be back
after traveling ninety trillion
and one hundred miles


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

alien relocation


the engines shut down and the glider
sailed silently below the clouds
discovering neither sun nor moon

careening stealthily over rocky land
she forged into the forgotten bay
low beams highlighting misty air

blending in like alien decoys
her belly rocked on comforting tides
expecting the mothership none too soon


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

superhighway


aliens loved to return here
to feast on information
but mainly to experience
poetic life in the fast lane


april two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

coming out of ground


inside old boxes embers glow
building roses out of ashes
and lightning strikes

crashing cymbals introduce
a new species of climbers
busily hurrying to reach the sky
zeroing in on unknown territory

you wish to go with them
but as a mere mortal
all you can do is wave
and blow kisses
praying and hoping
they’ll find their way home



september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

children of the stars


children played in the sand
building empires bound to fail
if not by the morning rain
then by a bloated gibbous
sinking into the sea

they boarded a starship
and set sail into the unknown
praying to their gods
for divine guidance
during years of hardship

starting anew in an alien world
they gravitate back
where sand meets the sea
where sweet memories linger
in unfamiliar air
their curious children learning
to build their own castles



june two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a higher frequency


the chatter is always there
two voices going on incessantly
speaking in an unknown language
allegedly having a good time

I understand there are others
but I only hear the two
at times they used to go away for
days or weeks or months
even sometimes indefinitely

I used to think they were my conscience
long before knowing what that is
used to think maybe one day
they would bring me into the fold

those indefinite days long gone
I find it disturbing how I used to
pray for their return
but now I mostly curse at them
and whatever world they came from



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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