jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Dreams”

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

hibernation


thinking about something for too long
often leaves you lost in the fray
like an overworked dream sequence
leading you in and out of consciousness
feeding on your inner fears

when becoming subjectively paralyzed
each hour bleeds into the next
almost always for the greater good
a reminder if this were but a movie
you’d have the option of moving on

every lost detail remains inside of you
and if only you had the power to bring
them all together simultaneously
you’d come to appreciate
why the gods remain in hibernation




april two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

suspicious activity


my alarm clock resides
on my wrist
bringing me back to life
routinely
quietly interrupting me
from the gray side
introducing birdsong
inside a sycamore tree

my flickering eyes
letting in varying degrees
of natural light
depending upon the
day or month of year
regardless if my latest dream
has gone viral
or died a peaceful death

seems like everything
needs charging
this strange day and age
electrical pulses
running rampant
cracking open eggshells
and letting go variably
by way of sirens




april two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a good night’s sleep


here we go again
plunging into the red
walls caving in and ceiling dropping
I lift my hands above my head
prolonging the inevitable
yelling at everyone to get out
get out

no it’s not a dream
this sickening viral nightmare
evolving like a self fulfilling prophecy
spawned from out of nothing
each passing hour growing darker
eyelids fluttering faster
than is humanly possible

it’s a symmetrical world
we work and play and sleep in
sometimes working in our favor
but mainly indifferent to our
desires and insecurities
a stark reminder how we all need
to get a good night’s sleep




march two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

more mercy please


I dreamed I was a pantomime cat
who refused to show any mercy
spending his days daydreaming
and nights wandering the streets
acting out whatever it was
he daydreamed about

my eyes were emerald green
my coat a steely gray
and whenever the streetlamps
shined their light my way
I changed my stripes and
hightailed it the hell out of there

I tell myself one of these times
I won’t make it back alive
but in the meantime I’ll keep
challenging the status quo
working mathematics by day
and my daydreams by night




march two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

premonition


that constant desire to escape
from what or to where like an
indescribable determination
constantly changing
eventually evolving into a viral
dream without end

you see yourself in there
chasing fire and rain
one moment flying like an eagle
the next burrowing beneath
the earth like something
you’ve never seen




march two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Wanting to Believe in the Dream


What is your problem America
why do you continue
to screw up both at home and abroad
acting like little children
in the house that Washington built
throwing tantrums and pointing fingers
unable to play in anyone’s sandbox
all because you believe
you’re better than anyone else

Strip down to your bare bones America
and expose yourself for who you are
shameless and afraid and insecure
like certain Hollywood directors
who think the world is theirs to take
like those players and lawyers
manipulating rules and laws of the land
benefiting nobody but themselves
and their related interests

Where o’where America do you go from here
after all the acts of war and aggression
having left the world a more dangerous place
how can you ever forgive yourself
for genocide and slavery and hypocrisy
when will you ever truly turn the page
converting past wrongs into true rights
starting with finding a way
to house and clothe and feed your own




january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

better run thru the jungle


february is on my mind
but she’s nowhere in sight
pretend morning fog
whispers in my ear
you’ve got no place to go

so I curse the winds
stuff suffocating thoughts
inside my pockets
telling myself
one day I’ll see the light

I keep waking up
in the middle of the night
trees burning brightly
firefighters fighting
for a clear path out




january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

where do we go from here


I knew his intentions
from the very beginning
having picked me up just before
noon in the big boat convertible
six rolling rock tall boys
sweating in the back seat

we find ourselves on unfamiliar
backroads without directions
he calmly says
he’s got this one
as we slow things down
and gradually ratchet up the hill

once at the top I close my eyes
he raises his hands off the wheel
suddenly recreating
a scene he’s always known
and me instantly realizing
this time he’s not alone




january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

and so the dream continues


she wakes and I sleep
the day has yet to break

sounds from below
incorporate into my dreams
sights and smells and those
unusual turn of events

I switch to my other side

there’s no sense anticipating
that tap tap tapping
on my second story window
something tells me
there are other ways
to be awakened
whether on my own or by
someone far and away
from someone
who once loved me




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

castles made of sand


wake up wake up
the moon she is arising

grab your ugly sweater
the one that amuses me in my dreams
and meet me at the shoreline

stuff your pockets with little candies
leftovers from late october
we’ll pick and choose as we please

lockstep in bare feet
we walk silently hand in hand
counting castles along the way

kiss me kiss me
for a fear I may be awakening




december two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

morning commute


three a.m. suddenly awake
I dreamed I was unable to breathe
a self-induced choking
my hands slightly trembling
I press my palms against my cheeks
perhaps flush or white as a ghost
I could not tell
I could not tell

after walking two super-sized blocks
I dreamed I fell back asleep
encountering further interruptions
windshield wipers wiping away
intermittent freezing rain
exposing yellow school buses
fluorescent citizens walking their dogs

by the time I reach the city center
the ingenuous homeless keep me on my feet
flashing by on motorized conveyances
powered by recycled municipal waste
or donated cans of boston baked beans




november two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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