jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dreams”

spilled milk


sometimes I think we’re all
living within a dream
nothing earth shattering
yeah I get that
how someone inside you
shakes you at 6AM & says
“it’s time to dream again”
only problem is
nobody is actually there
[inside or out]
and you’re left singing
“don’t come crying to me”
all to yourself




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Morpheus’ Brothers


The clouds are filling up
with love & hate
compartmentalized into
an anti-organized hierarchy

They often collide at high speeds
making whole systems crash
sprinklers in the server room
turning on like an isolated shower

Saying you can’t really see the cloud
is simply ridiculous
just ask any kid
lying down face up in a meadow
pointing skyward & interpreting
keywords as fact & fiction animals
specifically designed by
Icelos & Phantasos themselves




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

you used to tell me


daydreaming away
rains recede entirely
eyes open to light
unsure what day it is
or what time

where did you go
& how long were you there
better yet why oh why
did you ever return

none of us belong here
you used to me tell
& what I’ve always believed




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

row row row your boat


and so we sang the words
as children
seated in a circle & holding hands
[four jacks & a rubber ball
the most recent center of our attention]
each of us starting one after the other
repeating the chorus
time & again
smiling with the belief that life
is truly but a dream




february two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

by way of transportation


the mind is able but the body disabled
what kind of drugs have they injected into me
what kind of dreams do they have in store

I’ve never been to los angeles
but I’ve been to san francisco
and there I was again
seventeen going on thirty
walking the streets at night
making friends with the cold pacific

they’re trying to wake me from the dream
thousand of hands tugging at my strings
time continuing to reverse some 12 days now

I hopped on a jet airliner
and made my way to clay county
via chicago midway
eventually self-quarantining
resting atop the ancient bluffs
overlooking the mississippi

the eagles soar high in rotating fashion
I close my eyes & will them nearer
as quiet as the sky they pass me by




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on becoming a child


from snake to mouse
to predator bird
your understanding
naturally progresses
in complete alignment
with the slightest of stars

soon you’ll be able
to build a birdhouse
a boathouse
a townhouse
soon you’ll be able
to hold a heart in your hand

at some point
you’ll be showing others
how to interpret their own dreams
humming by the fireside
thread & needle in hand
mending leathery wings




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Death Scene at the Kotel


Tarantino pointed in my direction
immediately I stood at attention
and yelled out Yes Sir

I was supposed to be an “Extra”
but for some reason
he saw something in me
and next thing I know
I’m learning my lines in the cabin
of a Seven Forty-Seven

He casted me as the New Messiah
having moved the set
miles outside of Jerusalem
learning to ride a donkey named Travolta
my mentor Uma helping me
to memorize my lines

In the final scene they shot me to death
at least twelve times
three silver bullets from a Colt 45
ripping through my bare chest
the entire crew hurriedly packing
leaving me bleeding to death
at the foot of the Kotel

I dragged my body toward the Western Sun
one arm stretched up & out
begging them not to abandon me




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

crawling in my skin


what will become of me
on those dark cold nights
not knowing if I’m
sound asleep
or walking on thin air

the air outside is oh so cold
and the wind
oh the wind she is wicked
knocking on my door
at all hours of the night

there is a fine line
between sublime identities
& newfound realities
the kind you are likely to find
crawling toward the light




november two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

traffic jam


I’ve been testing different mattresses
since discovering I’ve got
all this free time

the world barely sees me but I’m around
moving about in conveyances
I once dared dream

in the mid-morning I see pink flamingos
riding their bicycles on first avenue
disturbing all the black & white traffic
crawling from point alpha to omega

it’s all I can do not to show them
how it’s done
but move on I must
there are too many mattresses
I’ve yet to test drive

once the skies have cleared
millions of sparrows move in
altogether halting traffic
singing in unison enough is enough
with all this exhaustion

fast asleep in broad daylight
I dream of crows hiding behind dark clouds




october two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

breaking the chain


that’s just plain wrong
these dreams I’m witnessing
they do not belong to me
last I checked I’m not working
for any damn fool

and so here I find myself
playing detective again
night after bloody night
solving the whys & wherefores
of vampires & werewolves
working backwards
from the end to the beginning

everyone in this world
seems to know my name
repeating ad nauseum
you’re not welcome here

the feeling is more than mutual
I whisper beneath my breath
returning to a specific point
and standing tall




october two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

breathing lessons


testing one two three
she repeats sliding closer
to the microphone
fists slightly clenched & by her side

she’s been learning to breathe
while singing for some years now
self-taught she tells people
like a master artist without a mentor
or any formal training

there is no one around
which can only mean one thing
and so she resumes painting a brighter future
one in which the world knows her name




july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

unsolved mysteries


I’m not going to keep repeating
myself as if I’ve nothing left to say

they say it’s impossible to come up
with anything original but I don’t
believe that for a new york minute

in the repeating dream
there are millions of monarchs
representing twenty-six letters in a key
and somehow you’re expected
to dumb it down for everyone

of course by the time
you’re running out the door
all is long forgotten
and those above ground mysteries
[those abstract imitations]
will simply have to wait
until the ultimate break of day




july two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

alarm clock malfunction


you’re awakening and fully aware
that you are still here
something inside you sends signals
letting you know
another something inside you
is tugging at your skirt

how was it that you watched me
awaken at the birds’ first calls
studying me as as I blinked
open my blue eyes
everyone else in the dream
determining what is brand new




june two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reading lips & lifelines


I dream & drink too much
sweet dreams from one day
to the next
always someone
taking hold of my shoulders
whispering in my ear
none of this is real

‘why do you always wake me’
repeating under my breath
on my back in the hospital bed
eyes blinking quickly
unfocused and darting up & down
brand new pair of adidas
[cool blue with white stripes]
perfectly placed in the far corner

for some reason
it’s just me & the madman
reporting from the mounted television
lips moving & muted
explaining how the rats of new york city
can run exponentially faster
wearing silk shorts & sneakers




may two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

changing directions


an uninspired idea germinates
in the back of your mind
probably belonging to someone else
one year or two score
or four hundred years ago

long used to going alone
feet controlling the floor pedals
hands on steering wheel & shifter
someone you once knew
begins singing in the passenger seat

past experiences & premonition
tells you the bulging moon
will soon be rising
and so you pick up the pace
the music getting louder all by itself




april two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

born to be down


I lost sight of what I was going to say
my train of thought drifting aimlessly
unable to distinguish the difference
between forgiven & forgotten

the way invisible forces continually
remind us nobody is ever in charge
makes me smile & makes me sad
temporary eyelashes fluttering

I keep saying I was born to be down
though I don’t know what that means
something I imagined in a dream
or discovered over a lifetime




april two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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