jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

a sunday affair


a morning with promise
sunday before
sunrise

a child awakens
one of eight
sneaking downward
spiraling like a mouse between
the woodwork
advancing to the far corner of the ship
—the only television set
sits cold on the credenza

on the screen
johnny quest
bullwinkle & rocky
dudley do-right
go go gophers
who remembers them all

but something
more sinister awaits
in the next room
a flash of light
shadows moving slowly
soft metallic sounds

suddenly frozen
the child
pauses everything
playing out his own doom


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

hanging out after school


birds fly south in the winter
a kindergarten myth
once told

often sold
to unsuspecting souls
looking for a place to sleep

in the dead of winter
robins navigate
the snow & the salt

children empty buses
marching single file
watching mushroom movies

glazed eyes on the outside
looking in
even when there’s nothing to see

their wings tucked away
and unnoticed
to the untrained eye

angels sing in the choir
on a school night
auditorium standing room only

outside in the cold
wanderers with wings or not
listening in


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

Higher in the sky


my father climbs the maple tree
behind his mother’s house

climbing to the very top
he believes he is a boy again

from a higher perspective
he sees a horse with wings
grazing in a meadow outside of town

he calls for his mother to see

but his mother doesn’t hear him
she is in the kitchen baking pies
& preserving fruit for the winter

my father falls from the tree
landing on his feet like a cat

he saunters off in search of the horse
with wings grazing in a meadow

my father walks out of town carrying
a bunch of carrots

back home his mother is ringing the dinner bell

mounting onto the back of the horse
my father cannot hear the kitchen bell

before long he is climbing higher in the sky





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

Discovery


Discover for yourself
Deep red rose abloom
Not some off-color
Bleeding into blue

Rediscover the secret
You just told someone
How good it felt
Being the benefactor
Not the messenger
Fearing for his life

Bring back to life
The band & the singer
Rather than smothering
Music with blankets of snow
A new parade unfolding
Performing a lost art


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

retracement


how far back can you go
siphoning your father’s whiskey
risking hide & skin & possibly eyesight

back then you always thought
no way in hell you’re gonna get caught
yet off you go sometimes well past curfew

rhyme or reason rarely came into play
doing things his or hers or your way
depending upon the moon phase

what wouldn’t work back then
will probably work this time around
as long as you close your eyes & believe


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

going blind


I couldn’t see the keyboard
anymore
couldn’t read it
with my fingertips
but at least I still had a voice
and the wherewithal
to get the party started


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

butterfly effect


out in the fields
children capture carbon
out of thin air
armed with netting
& glass bottles w/airtight lids
having learned early on
rain forests alone
cannot save the planet


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

the south tower


he was an old soul
in tune with an energy
alien to the planet
he had set foot upon
for less than a
quarter century

though the violent
nature of his death
will transcend
space & time
that alien energy
once residing
above the ground
will forever evolve
throughout
& beyond
anyone’s imagination


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

when life has got you down


I suppose I could always join
the monastery
the one at the top of a lesser god’s hill
where a silent bell
rings from inside a silver spire
hidden by a dark cloud
manufactured by imaginations
seeking solace & light


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

Milady’s bedroom


Every morning
if not right away certainly before
the midday sun
the masterbed shall be stripped & remade
all dusty thoughts removed
all windows swung open
a fragrance or two sprayed in
from out of nowhere
—for we know not
whose final dreams
may lie upon it tonight


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

the great pause


winds & rains & planetary rotation
strips the mighty oak of its november leaves
but not its power of regeneration

it’s as if it had died a thousand deaths
yielding to its cyclical fate with
elegance & humility

like a bear in hibernation
sleeping through the winter
headstrong & towering & unafraid
dreaming uninterrupted of endless summers
of the promise of primaveral sunshine


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

This could probably be


Papa is dying
the ambulance people cried
having arrived & departed
steeple shrinking in the rear view
church bells ringing

They say he suffered
from a broken heart disease
but those who knew him well
said this could never be

Papa isn’t dying
the hospital people cried
having discharged him
to the mercy & kindness
to whomever he could find

They say he suffered
from a lonely heart disease
and those who knew him well
said this could probably be


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

there in the first place


we always looked
in all the wrong places
proving that like a falling star
physicality is fleeting
and that movement in thought
is an alternative means
of public transportation

as children we would spend
an entire afternoon
in the cemetery
mindful of the phrase
why do you seek the living among the dead?
hopeful in finding some sort of
peace of mind
or perhaps uncover
a material clue or two
—as to why
we were there in the first place


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

cakes are done & people are finished


he was there and then
he wasn’t
playing to a crowd
he thought he knew
but didn’t

he said cakes are done
& people are finished

it was something
he had learned
from his mother
and when he told this
to a waitress
some sixty years ago
she stepped away
stopped & returned
to tell him he was right


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

until time is fully dissolved


born out of darkness
a spirit awakens from a
slumber long forgotten
an event as ubiquitous
as the blinking of an eye

once losing the ability
to blink while dreaming
the same darkness
returns from dormancy
reversing ordinary time
until it is fully dissolved





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

would you care to make a friendly wager?


it’s friday night
a college football game at play
inside the rose bowl

the place is packed not to mention
all the eyes watching on
countless devices

at the beginning the outcome
is uncertain
but one side will surely prevail
while the other
is destined to walk away in defeat

it’s simply a matter of time


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

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