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poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dreams”

reminiscing in the southern hemisphere


I’m lost again
somewhere in the middle of argentina
faraway from the capital
where the air is clean
and the mountains are nearby
where I can practice my spanish
without criticism or second thoughts
trying to put onto paper
how I miss the mystery
of the mediterranean
whether it be in southern europe
or north africa
(and all points in between)
occasionally looking up to the heavens
pen tapping the side of my
near-empty pint glass
my uninterrupted thoughts
invoking the poetry gods
to give me courage to return home
one last time




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

patient like the blackbird


in my isolation blackbird does appear
stammering about calmly impatient
deliberately explaining to me
my imaginary predicament

he says we’ve flown many times
into the unknown
much like a dream that repeats
but only after long intervals
like how distant planet orbits her sun

I’ve rescued you many times
(he goes on to explain)
taking you to the safety of the towers
where you witness firsthand
flocks of blackbirds
feasting into the night




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

crossing the river


though I feel sick I am not ill
this ever changing weather
playing games with my frame of mind
keeps me tossing and turning when wide awake
making me move onward
and upward
as I delve deep into
my most precious dream state

I often wonder who’s going to protect me
from thy enemy

how many times do I have to remind myself
to step away from the window

we’ve crossed this river many times
and will cross again if we must
enjoining many hands
together stepping like a human net
resurrecting life by conquering death




march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

that which awakens


you arise out of nothing but from a dream
the kind that wakes you up
a dream that starts out
innocently enough
moves along pleasantly from one idea to the next
but then a sudden turn of events
two children
two brothers
attending a professional baseball game
given enough leash by their parents
both reaching for a foul ball
arms stretching out over the concrete wall
leading down into the concourse
the two of them catching the ball together
grasping for dear life
fans cheering them on
but they’re leaning too far
momentum preventing them from stopping
from leaning too far
leaning too far and falling
holding desperately onto the ball




march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

waltzing before daybreak


wind chimes hardly whisper
interrupting predawn dreams
like a first passionate kiss
bluebird angels sighing within
wishing to imitate
branches blossoming
the first sign of spring

waning crescent moon calls you
from your slumber
mars and saturn subconsciously
tugging at your comforter
like impatient felines
needing to usher in
all that is welcoming



march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reconstructing until kingdom come


out of thin air paper castles
tower above cumulus clouds
constructed by men skilled at
shaping dreams into
concrete ideas

I remained at ground zero
unfolding plans on a tabletop
saying look see here
this is where we must rebuild

and so we burned everything
on the spot
a virtual bonfire slowly growing
visible by satellite
smoke in the sky billowing
shaped like an ark
carrying away pairs of anything
that ever was or will be





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

start of a brand new day


there are no secrets in poetry
only rhyme and reason
and quiet determination

ambitious are young hearts
dying to be heard above
the din of repetition

fear not the word of others
rather practice the art
of reading and imitation

seemingly elusive dreams
are best captured at dawn
as they begin transitioning
like alien interlopers





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

an improbable assassin


they experiment with microwaves
sending subliminal text messages
and messing with my dreams via wifi

I wake up in a criminal sweat
wondering what in the world I had done
these past three nights

secret agent men keep knocking on my door
at all hours of the day
undercover cat pleading for me to open up
so she might escape the madness

of course I refuse to answer to anyone
feeding the kitty golden treats
and spending my days googling
searching for elusive guru
who can restore my identity
and cleanse me of my killer status





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved<

supersonic speeding tickets


from beginning to end
all we do is practice
no matter rhyme or reason
or particular purpose to carry on
whether on road leading to
bandstand on country hill
better yet at wembley stadium
or carnegie hall

there are no free rides
no assurances along the way
but there are tickets to collect
at nearly every turn
easily transferable to friends
and family and strangers
or whosoever believes
long before you ever do





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

early afternoon memoirs


I made pekoe for two
in my red porcelain teapot
but it was just me and my thoughts
retiring to the sunroom
bird songs in the background
streams of consciousness meandering
inside sublime daydreams
mixing fantasy with memories
and all that was meant to be





february two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

see how they run


I imagine you’re sleepwalking
while I’m intermittently dreaming
your whitish curly haired lap dog
dressed in holiday sweater
leashed and pleading to go outside
to greet rising curved moon

it’s another mid-winter night
and I roam from room to room
trying to track you down
but as usual you’re one step ahead
sometimes disguised
as three blind mice
other times the carving knife





january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

waking up entire neighborhood


pretending new moon
shines upon streets of singapore
I am reminded
of candles in window

flashing lights scream across
inner city streets
red and blue and white hot
giving chase inside
some long forgotten dream

bursting open barriers
words make inner sounds
slowly raising my consciousness
at two twenty-two in the morning

unopposed to where I landed
I play out my part in the dark
arms raised
and mouth wide open
cornered in some well-lit alley





january two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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