jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dreams”

rabbit’s foot


we came from the depths of the ocean
and learned to breathe differently
one day walking upright on earth

years became decades became centuries
and soon peter would learn to catch fish
and levitate on the sea of galilee

time would accelerate undeterred
rebirth begetting evolutionary rebirth
what were once fins becoming wings

there is no final frontier here on earth
whether at the near outer edges
or beyond the unconscious universe





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

the dream interpreter


every time I come to some sort of conclusion
the next riddle presents itself
and I am forced yet again to deal with
this thing called life

when the next riddle presents itself
I tend to sleep in
using my dreams to my advantage
writing them down in fits & starts
and taping them to the wall
pacing back & forth
sometimes a forefinger
placed on my lower lip
other times with hands on hips

not everything is solvable
at least not in this lifetime
where dungeons & flying dragons
plastered on tear-stained walls
are as real as death itself





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

toying with infinity


a change of scenery
isn’t that what it’s all about
four or five seasons
rotating in & out of your life
commingling &
at times digressing
fast-forwarding supersonically
daydreaming & transcribing
without actually going
anywhere in particular





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

for reasons I can’t explain


having been gone
I listen for my song
in faraway places
in my dreams I search
for days on end
upon awakening reality sets in
and I start another day
without my song

it’s as if I’m gradually
losing my sight
my peripheral vision
narrowing day by day
the song I once knew by heart
nowhere to be found
taken away from me
for reasons I can’t explain





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

insomnia


the end is near

explosions are only the beginning

the people ran from the enemy within
emptying ten story buildings in a matter

of mere minutes

I swear you were born yesterday
and now you are dying like the rest of us
at some point there is no looking back
there is only the explosions

the earth has died many times before
only to come back more beautiful than ever

like the calm before the storm





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

living in this necessary evil


there is this reality
that we don’t know about
other than through dreams
and from there
we are left in the dark

inside the matrix
is another form of reality
one we rarely get a glimpse of
maybe by way of a dream
inside of a nightmare

it’s like that window
or that mirror
replicating itself ad infinitum
possessing you without question
taking to all the places
you’ve known throughout
the course of human history

in the meantime
(and for some unknown reason)
this present day reality
remains a necessary evil





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

bracing for the winter


how do I fit in
in the grand scheme of things
is there truly a place to mark my spot
or am I dreaming still

there’s work yet to be done
the voice inside me tells me
(on occasion)
do I listen or do I not
how I’m always outside the box
looking for something else

I should go to vermont
or any other place on the planet
but I am stuck here
planning on replanting seeds
gathered centuries ago
handed down to me
today





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

exchanging hands on the black market


there is love & hate
happening on hollywood avenue
I try to stay
on the right side of the street


my dreams keep telling me
everything I’m gonna miss
but I don’t get the half of it
waking up at 2 am to gunshot
pit bulls barking up & down the street

what few truths there are left
(inalienable or otherwise)
ricochet up & down the boulevard
the scorching sun
attempting to eradicate all the lies
baked within





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

sixty minutes until midnight


night after night
they’re knocking down doors
and taking away dreams


it’s in your best interest
to turn back the clock & stop
sleeping in your own bed

what they put in your body
is anyone’s guess
how you push it back out
is another story

it may be more dangerous
by land or air or sea
[or so the inner voice tells you]
seriously contemplating
disappearing entirely





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

dreaming of tomorrow


where do you find beauty
the very definition of your being
deep-seated in the condition
known as the human experience


your eyes have seen
the beauty nature has to offer
flower & bird & celestial bodies
inviting you into their mysteries

morning sun does not exist
once you understand
that the beauty of this place
forever remains the same




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

back into your busy world


how far you’ve roamed
little lamb
chased away by barking dogs
on the hunt for a scent
nothing to do with
the likes of you


further lost day after day
tip-toeing on pins & needles
the rock tricky
& occasionally vertical
hopefully opening to a surprise
on the other side

another sleepless night
gave way to northern winds
bringing with it
dreams of the future
retracing countless steps
back into your busy world




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

early in the morning


hand me your dream
let me take it from there
let’s see how far
we can stretch the sky

it’s been ages
since I’ve heard voices
finally returning
to calm me down

I used to think angels
disguised themselves
as red wing blackbirds
restless by the roadside




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

further feeding the dream


listen
can’t you hear
that little buzzing bee
chasing you
in a dream

glass jar in one hand
lid in the other
catching flashes of light
once the sun
dissolves itself

in the dream
you are in the glass jar
shaped like your
mother’s uterus
the contents
gradually evolving

lukewarm & invisible
you direct the workers
in & out of the garden
collecting pollen
& other personal data
fed back into the dream




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

failing at REM sleep


a bark woke me up
I lumbered down the stairs
half naked
and there was this cat
on the other side of the storm door


by the time the rising sun
tapped me on the shoulder
I recalled how the dog
chased the cat
to the dark side of the moon

as I was tying my shoes
I had no recollection
of the overnight rain storms
fairly certain I failed yet again
to attain REM sleep




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

the quiet one in the corner


I try to remember
the lost dreams from childhood
baseball & butterflies
how the lady in the shoe
in the kitchen
screamed at all her children
(but I was not one of them)
all of us pretending
knowing exactly
where we came from


it was the fifteenth
maybe fourteenth century
and mother was making mead
in the cellar
me as a toddler shadowing
her every move
quietly asking where on earth
I could have come from
and ever since
never asking again




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

an angel in critical need of repair


I dreamt I had wings
its feathers in various
shades of grey
stretching them to the limit
as I stood tall atop
the empire state building

in the dream I sprung
from the ledge in a swan dive
crashing back to earth
in slow motion
the eyes behind my head
madly moving rapidly




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

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