jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dogma”

water in the pail


I’ve not walked on water for so long
I’m beginning to fear it may
never happen again

contemplating such improbabilities
I’m often carried back in time
becoming water in the pail
transported from the river to village

once among the populace
I’m both a god and commodity
bringing smiles to little ones’ faces
and comfort to the weary

but if I had a choice
I’d remain at the water’s edge
hoping for a chance to walk again





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

breaking my fast


it’s good friday
and I’m thinking of downsizing
yet again
sell the place as is
and buy something with just
enough room
to keep my thoughts
all to myself

of course I’d donate
a closet full of clothing
and sell most of the furnishings
giving a tenth
of the proceeds
to the immaculate conception
that inner city sanctuary
renown for feeding
the hungry
and saying mass in spanish
every day at noon

there are plenty of other
crosses
I’m in need of bearing
thinking they may
lighten my overall penance
but for the moment
I’m content staying put
resting my eyes and
breaking bread
come daylight





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

black hole earth


third world angels wrap themselves
around the loneliest of children
god ever placed on earth

they amble these ancient streets
and back alleys virtually unseen
admiring the crumbling architecture
as the children somehow fall fast asleep
jet fighters crisscrossing the frozen skies
reminding everyone that this time
nothing will be different

come daybreak birds sing and angels weep
opening their wings and knowing
in a naturally universal way
that this place in time
will be neither the first nor the last





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

little lambs on the run


we pushed through the crowds
on a sunday morning
parting the layers of worshipers
basking in the sunlight
hoping for a final glimpse
what may lay on the other side

a scattering of us lived on
forever hand in hand
snaking through the spirited mob
as if we always existed
intention in our eyes
and redemption in our hearts




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a gathering of armies


they held the stars for ransom
loveless creatures of the night
coming and going as they please
like outlaw angels on the run

it’s difficult to track that which
leaps from moon to moon
pitting fire against magic
and heaven from hell

this is not the first or last time
boarding chartered flights
eyes shut tight and chasing
death to armageddon and back




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

sharing the wealth we possess


we fished off the docks
overcast sunday morning
praying for a break

weatherman says
tomorrow should be better
once churchgoers
and earthworms are all
back at work

most of us don’t
give a damn
about day jobs or night life
let alone the cost of
living or dying

river keeps calling
finding ourselves responding
come rain or come shine




november two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserve

A feeling of not being there


I didn’t tell you I was scared of heights
because I assumed you knew me
better than I knew myself

How wrong things turned out to be
soon after your star seemed to take off
now falling fast and further
than anyone could have ever fathomed

Clouds at ten thousand feet are much whiter
than they appear from the ground
and I believe you when you tell me
heaven is not any closer




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

ones that got away


there was fish in the basement freezer
bluegills caught in the mississippi
taken home and cleaned
filleted and carefully placed in ziplocs
each dated by way of sharpie

each day a story unto itself
each story a small piece of the life
and times of a solitary man
long removed from
an ordinary working life

if you don’t move you will die
he told his son
carefully stepping down the stairs
unlocking freezer door with key
he kept hanging on a nail
fearful the fish might one day escape
and find their way back home




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

there at the end of the road


how can I possibly change now
or can I see the world in a whole new light
a paradigm shift so to speak
where I am no longer the victim
but savior of my own home town

I didn’t return here only to be idle
someone said there were roads to lay
replacing gravel with yellow bricks
all the way from otter’s creek
to the mouth of the mighty river

and there at the end of the road
(or shall I say the beginning)
there I stand wading in the water
like the renegade baptist himself
proclaiming the possibility of a new life
to those who dare to dream




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lifting up the blinds


there is an undefinable sweetness
lingering in my mind
leaving me curious as to whether
I may be dead or alive

I’ve been walking in a fog now
for nearly a fortnight
kicking the dirt beneath my feet
wondering if it’s the very earth
I was miraculously born into

there’s no need to worry
or so say the angels in the field
shadowing flock beneath their wings
guiding them toward shelter

sooner or later morning fog will clear
burned away by memories
past and present and future




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

his eloquent elocution


he was electrocuted like some uncommon criminal
right there on live television for all the galaxy to see

federation of planets feared his demise was
anything but permanent
summoning their agents across vast jurisdictions
as herod once did

there is no telling what will come next
once the newborn has survived infancy
growing unnoticed and unadulterated
ultimately mastering his eloquent elocution




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

after the saturday morning rains


in the morning church bells will be ringing
and ambulances will be screaming
those dying search for a higher purpose
finding themselves on their knees
praying man and bride complete the
transformation by becoming one

universe changes at a pace
incomprehensible to the human brain
traveling at the speed of light when
shut down for the night
only to awaken in quicksand
convinced there is no way out

outside the double doors an odyssey
awaits your arrival and departure
cautiously you step out into the open
casting your eyes directly overhead
spiraling steeple pointing to a place
you understand more than you know




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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