jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the category “Micropoetry”

station to station


I found myself repeatedly moving the dial
clapping randomly at small somethings
flying in my face
sent in one by one by some
strange god testing my mid-summer mettle
uninterested in my inner well-being
let alone my outwardly comical countenance
instead secretly intercepting frequencies
concocting far worse consequences
involving matters of life and death




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

snapshots of rainbows


we used to chase them just like we chased
butterflies and rabbits and tornados and daydreams
pretended to store them in mason jars in the cellar
(or the lower level as we like to say)
sealed tight and placed on web-laced shelves
like ordinary bottles of homemade beer or wine
or better yet experimental body parts
ensconced in formaldehyde
and though we talked at great length of our
supposed prized collection
nobody in their right mind dared go underground
to disprove their existence




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

single speed


mind may be racing
but heart is slowing down
counting days until
current surroundings
suddenly take a turn

she says come look
and see for yourself
sphere has but one speed
yet all inside her
tumbles chaotically

I believed her
like I believed in rain
softly falling
keeping me company
breathing on our own




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

magnanimous immortality


emotions are in charge of the world
and my own creations are nothing but
manifestations that are either killing me
or my next door neighbor
forces sending us in different directions
either deep inside our own agony
or propelling us outwardly into the
beauty of the next world
whichever seems to be reasonably
relevant at the time




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the artist and I


we will cross the river
the artist and I
and we will find a new outlet
to call our home
and we will sleep as one
falling in and out of
romantic daydreams
evening sun hiding her
eyes behind decorative fan
rising moon reaching out
to gently awaken us
so that we may create again




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

not your final destination


I heard it on the radio
childhood memories
reformatted for the digital age
revolutionary forces
transformed from past to present
longtime secrets resurrected
playing loud and clear on
intergalactic airwaves




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

assassinations and suicides


I’ve been lost so many times
it’s a wonder I’m still here
inconsistently running away
only to return to mixed reviews

do not put much faith in open arms
they’re a far cry from open minds
let alone open hearts

I’ve long lost count of shady characters
played on screen and in real-time
stealing my past lives and
replacing them as their own




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

one warm winter’s night


you come to me as a spirit
poking and prodding and
whispering sweet discretions in my ear
but I am fast asleep like a bear hibernating
periodically shivering
but mainly motionless and soundless
secretly enjoying a series of
interconnected dreams
leading me from one kiss to the next




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on becoming a mere memory


how you knew so far in advance
remains a mystery to this day
unless of course you had miraculously
rediscovered your clairvoyance at the
exact time I relinquished my rights
to any sort of extrasensory perception

though unprepared to give up anything
(especially in my formative years)
I transfer all powers I once possessed
(whether real or imaginary) to you




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

once outside of the yard I will be forever free


so here I am held in some detention camp
along with every living soul I ever knew
one by one they are called away
until eventually I find myself alone again
selfishly gathering their freshly strewn petals




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

wander this world


what is to become of me my love
now that the sun shines anew

tomorrow was meant for dreams
an inheritance of possibilities
unfulfilled by your sudden departure

hesitant to wander this world again
I beg the sun to sink no further
praying your undying love
resurfaces as you once promised




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pulling me in


I don’t feel tired at all
(oh no not at all)
I’m feeling like a breaking wave
rushing toward ocean’s shoreline
angels singing by my side
clouds full of rain following above
waiting patiently for me to make landfall
destined to become nothing but a puddle
dying to be loved by the sun itself




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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