jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dreams”

the dawn chorus


first there was the final dream
approaching morning light
bedroom curtains breathing in and out
mimicking my own circadian rhythm
and welcoming the dawn chorus

birds beginning to think it’s spring
how they invade my subconscious
pretending to be children
reincarnated from fallen leaves
singing from the tallest trees

one morning that will be me
having not awakened from the dream
free falling like a leaf among many
reaching out and believing
finally participating in the dawn chorus




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

what have I become


how am I to follow suit
on such a sorrowful day
sun beating down so hard
keeping even ants
from working on the hill

he had died in my dream
countless times
but now that I’m older
than the dream itself
others may visualize
my youthful presence
as a mere memory

I never should have followed
irrational commands
disturbing the soil
where the earth god
works her timeless magic

what have I become
if not a shadow
of my former self
having shed thoughts
of those who made me
instead focused
on rebuilding hills I once
foolishly destroyed




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

maximizing net pleasure


she sang and danced in my sleep
arousing my senses and touching my heart
making me believe she was all I needed
from this day unto eternity

once awakening I felt exhausted
having lost patience and time and body weight
attempting to relive what had transpired
before it was forever gone

there is this overwhelming desire
residing in the recesses of a curious mind
creating and recreating an epicurean reality
momentary and indescribable




june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

stranger in a foreign land


I’ve lost my way or so it seems
streets and faces anything but familiar
I fear I may have awakened from
another man’s dream
transplanted if you may
and tasked to piece together a past
found in this place and time

I did not ask for this life
but neither do I recall the former
where people knew my name
and I learned to grow old reluctantly

but now I find myself young again
sensing purpose in my gait
as I continue to weave
my way through this
city of diversity
beginning to believe
there is purpose yet to be found





june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I died in my dream last night


do you remember me
I was the one who died in his
sleep last night

as I recall you were with me
and I had pleaded
that you slow things down
but we went veering off the path anyway
projected into an orbit
defying quantum mechanics

it wasn’t the first time
I went sailing off into space
never to return
the world below me gradually
becoming smaller
the next one
suddenly
becoming familiar





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

late bloomers


it still feels like April
the world going nowhere fast
like a vinyl forty-five spinning
soundlessly on a turntable

of course there’s nothing
wrong with slowing things down
at least according to Simon
who relentlessly kicks
down cobblestones

cool rain comes and goes
like a game of peek-a-boo
tamping down
good-intentioned deeds
and daffodil dreams

despite all the outside noise
a quietness remains within
silently reminding you
there’s always a way out





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

once there was a way


do not confuse my words with reality
they are conjured at night while my eyes
are rapidly interpreting current events
sometimes seizing the moment
like a champion in the ring
other times adrift at sea
neither lost nor found
but diligently tracking familiar stars
eventually finding my way back home





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I can’t change


no I don’t hate you
in fact I don’t know you
know not where you
live or what you stand for
the color of your hair or eyes
the language that you speak
or religion [if any] you practice

no I don’t hate you
fact is I adore you [from
a great distance] like a dream
long ago escaping me
leaving me aching and asking
how can I ever get back
to a place that never was





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

REM Sleep


I told everyone we were married
that you were my wife
that we had met on a rainy night
somewhere in paradise
and it was love at first sight

Although none of this is true
her image forever remains
stamped in my mind
projected on ceilings and walls
as I hopelessly roam
from room to room
in my futile attempts
to bring her back into my life





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on the fringes picking up pieces


you see me in your dream
taking notes on the sidelines
while the rest of the gang
sit on high like a panel of judges
or a murder of crows
calling on the next witness

I keep my wings tucked
inside my black jacket
pacing back and forth
along the roadside
keeping my mouth shut
and pretending I’m all alone

you’re the only one
recognizing me for who I am
perfectly capable of joining
your little inner circle
but modestly more at ease
scavenging on my own terms





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

second story mariner


there is a boat docked outside
my window on a cool
autumn night
brightly blue and appearing
out of nowhere

I see it there
rocking in place peacefully
brilliant moon high above
slightly waning
drifting in and out of
thin porous clouds
like a fair-weather friend

who could have ordered
such a vessel my way
and why do I stand at the
window motionless
hands on hips and
eyes mesmerized
seriously considering
my next move





february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

getting to know thyself


the faces are inspiring
whether real or appearing
in one-off dreams
faces in the crowd
popping up from one spot
to the next
by any means necessary
be it by foot or uber or bus
or train or aeroplane
exhibiting happiness or grief
pain or sorrow or glee
eyes and mouths wide open
or reluctantly shut
teeth clenched or relaxed
pale-faced or rosy-cheeked
hurried or stymied or grounded
it matters not

I swear I know
each and every one of them
much like how I know myself




february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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