jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dreams”

chasing down a dream


there is a disconnect
between sublime living
and the reality of the day
so much so
even the planes
and helicopters overhead
produce background music

execution style killings
by thugs & gangs
are just as commonplace
as walks in the park
mother & daughter & child
enjoying the sunshine
unsuspectedly

in the marketplace
a man sells as is avocados
turning pennies into dollars
cross-training his
only surviving child
working & maintaining
chasing down their dream





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

even memories can trick the brain


listen do you remember
the way it filled the room
an aroma you wished
would one day return

in court I’m appearing
as star witness most days
honestly saying I’m a master
at misremembering

go ahead and ask your
silly questions
it’s true I once was in love

judge unequivocally asks
is that your final answer
ordering the stenographer
to repeat the soup du jour

in the end it becomes subject
to alien interpretations
the smoke from the gun in the room
the cigar of the inspector





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

the tree children


moon swaying over tidal waves
a dream inside a dream
trees planted in the sand
stretching for the clouds
children of the forest climbing
until they’re no longer seen

man-made machines pounding
on the ocean floor
shaking loose the tree children
sending them falling & tumbling
plunging into the ocean
evolving into something new





january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

like wild horses


empty pistachio shell
I collect them inside
a glass bowl
its uniqueness
commingling with all the others
like a beautiful horse
inside a stampede

ocean waves inside a shell
how easier could it possibly be
taking in an out-of-body
experience
—come
take a listen
we can drown together

with a little imagination
the shell is but a ship
powered by wayward souls
once racing frightfully
now advancing with purpose
& direction
in perpetuity





january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the subordinates


tonight we pause & give thought
to the morning light
having just traversed various points
of the universe
in a matter of mere minutes

at times there is strangeness
in ubiquity
skipping from one reality
to the next
only to find ourselves questioning
familiarity

there is a door in our peripheral
wooden or metal or glass
it matters not
and for the time being
we sit in silence
waiting for our marching orders





january two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

The Great Failure


I fail to understand how I sleep at night

Where have you been dear sanity
and why do you evade my
quietest moments

This talking to someone
I fear whom may or may not exist
has been weighing

Heavily on the wrong side
of conscious thought
insistent on killing the enemy

Likely existing from within
a simple & delicate psyche
(in)capable of triggering

This insistence of wielding
instruments of creation
over the inevitable





december two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Portland burning


Look what you’ve left behind
my friend
your stuff scattered
in places you’ve never been
having gotten there either by accident
or intentionally delivered
by loved ones still standing

Last night in my dream
you were alive
and never better
rounding up the troops
and shouting out marching orders
your famous last words
it’s now or never my friends





december two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

wake up call


I wear an alarm clock
on my wrist

it tells me many things
such as where I’ve been
when I’m wide awake
or where I’m going
when fast asleep

it speaks to me in foreign sounds
a kind of language
I’ve come to understand over time
as if sequestered
inside a white room without
an escape route

I’ve nothing else to do
but to breathe & learn

sometimes the sound is muffled
by way of a pillow
and I become
the loneliest man in the world
until I toss & turn & awaken
all on my own





december two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

purple petunias


it starts with planting
flowers in the dark
where there is no sunrise
or sunset
—the grand scheme
of things hidden
behind the scenes

rapid eye movement
paints all kinds of pictures
imagining opening
the curtain for all to see
all sorts of colors
splashed upon the fabric

the green of grass
the blue of sky
the yellow sun

new realities are made
in such ways
when eyes are shut
sleepwalking
through the garden
trowel in hand





december two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a masterful counterattack


the software was counterintuitive
a sad display of artificial intelligence
incapable of solving the woes of humanity

I tinkered with it by introducing a new code
like inserting a special character into a dream
hoping of preventing the man from dying

but the man never awoke
and the original code consumed
that which sought to destroy death





october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

premonition


how can I be homesick
for a place I’ve not set foot upon
like a youngster
I sit & daydream of foreign lands
and open seas
convincing myself I’d been
there in another life
an eighth
or a quarter
or half a world away
the pull itself as familiar
as a knock on the door
at three o’clock in the morning





october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the curse of the autumn rose


it sits there mostly indisposed
the patience that is death
awaits us without detection
carries on like a muted songbird

in the endless dream
death is nothing to be feared
the ancient moon cycling peripherally
offering to keep you near

nothing is left behind
for death is indiscriminate
& those who mourn
shall always be mourned
& they who stay forever cursed





september two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

The Absence


There is an absence that is indefinable
as if the ghost dog who once roamed freely
throughout the house had suddenly departed

It was the cat who first noticed the absence
bringing it to my attention by way of behaviors
that were secondary to her nature
entering my dreams unconventionally
revealing other lives I once lived

In the morning I stand in the shower
warm water washing away dirt & blood &
anything strangely unsettled or emotionless

Going through the motions is an expression
best left for those who have given up
no longer searching & thereby incapable of
finding the smallest of things that had been lost





september two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

wet dream


don’t call us they kept repeating
in my dream
actually they were singing it
don’t call us baby
we’ll call you


it was as if wolfman jack
had somehow gotten in
shadowing me like a wild thing

running at full speed
every chance I could get
only the corners could slow me down
inside this inner city jungle

hailstorms preceded
intensely global temperatures
leaving everyone soaked to the bone
wondering what kind of animal
they had become





september two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

working on a mystery


playing with house money
we experiment with more odds
mixing wisdom with youthfulness
courtesy of an unknown god

you scratch your proverbial head
asking which way next
pretending to comprehend
how the road only goes ahead

you’re in the passenger seat
someone else behind the wheel
no longer working on a mystery
mere mortals merely dreaming





august two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

heaven or hell on earth


below ground
coincidence can be found
bone & rock & history
loosely wrapped
inside places even your
imagination can’t fathom
unless you’re dead asleep

in the air is where it’s at
high as a kite so to speak
transported by coal-consuming
flying dragons
firing on all cylinders
taking you to places
only years ago unthinkable

if you can’t escape
the exosphere
you’ve no choice but to die
a stone cold death
or fall back to the surface
reborn to climb yet again
or dig into oblivion





august two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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