jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

06 May 2015
2 Comments

a higher frequency


the chatter is always there
two voices going on incessantly
speaking in an unknown language
allegedly having a good time

I understand there are others
but I only hear the two
at times they used to go away for
days or weeks or months
even sometimes indefinitely

I used to think they were my conscience
long before knowing what that is
used to think maybe one day
they would bring me into the fold

those indefinite days long gone
I find it disturbing how I used to
pray for their return
but now I mostly curse at them
and whatever world they came from



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Aliens, Poetry and tagged , , , ,
04 May 2015
9 Comments

eternal is the spring


the pump in the field rusted red
miraculously sprung back to life
year after year

children jumping over stalks
and stars
barely out of breath
and smiling
seemingly suspended in motion
dashing through the water



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , ,
03 May 2015

The One and Only Billy Shears


I heard this song by Billy Shears
on the AM radio the other day
and could have sworn
it was the Beatles all over again

It was high time the lesser frequency
hit the air with such determined soul
competing against the likes of
American cricket and European football
Limbaugh and Beck
agrinews and golden oldies

This old thumb or forefinger
or whatever functions best on
any given night
dials in with as much precision
as humanly possible
hoping to catch a southward wave
back to nineteen sixty-seven



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
02 May 2015
3 Comments

love in the shadows


there is nothing new here
except for an occasional idea
unspoken and not stirred
swallowed in large gulps

I poured myself another
but still nothing new
same birds singing sad songs
dogs barking at moons
invisible hands swatting
glass wind chimes

the fly and the cockroach
scamper across the floor
the former riding atop the latter
waving his cowboy hat
like a drunken fool

looking around I find there
is nothing new here
not the television
not the radio
not the woman next door
or the sniper in the woods

I am living proof
that the damned still matter
(and even though)
I am drowning my sorrows
there is comfort knowing
there is love in the shadows



may two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , ,
30 Apr 2015
4 Comments

the doll maker


eyes sewn shut
hair in disrepair
ruby-red lips fading
arms wrapped around knees
like a frightened child

screaming is not allowed
but neither is whispering
pursed lips at times
relax and smile
but only with permission
only with permission

sitting atop shelves
stuffed in shoe boxes
incomplete conceptions
dream to be rescued
from behind closet doors



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , ,
29 Apr 2015
4 Comments

separated from birth


nothing like in my dream
you introduce yourself
as a friend of a friend
changing your appearance
to make me feel comfortable
describing future events
as a constant happening

I wanted to ask how you
could fly without wings
instead closed my eyes
and held on loosely
thrilled to be seeing all things
previously invisible

with assurances of more light
beyond the light
you brought me back to life
challenging me to make sense
in whatever nearly killed me
promising me next time
there would be no separation



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
26 Apr 2015
3 Comments

already gone (to albuquerque)


she asked me what was wrong
I said nothing
mumbled a few words under my breath
and moved on

it didn’t seem to faze her
but maybe neither would a taser
and before you knew it
we were drinking cosmopolitans
on the patio until dark

morning arrived in no time
in fact I almost missed it
but she was already gone
using my bus fare to albuquerque
stowing away a little girl
I would one day maybe know



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
25 Apr 2015
3 Comments

systematic lemonade


systematic is the way to go
in anything we say or do

systematic is the way we shop
whether on foot or online
picking items without much thought
consuming them on the spot
or saving them in the freezer
for a rainy day

systematic is the way we work
the sheepdog and the wolf
clocking in and punching out
less concerned with the score
anxious to get home for a few quiet hours
drinking wine and feasting on mutton

systematic is the way we kill en masse
always on the lookout and finding
new and improved ways
to exterminate whatever cancer
threatens us from living in peace



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry, War Poems and tagged , ,
24 Apr 2015
4 Comments

taking the rocky road out of town


she walked casually into the room
two oversize scoops atop a sugar cone
and as her eyes caught mine
she suddenly froze

I sensed small wisps of steam
hovering above the dark chocolate
assorted nuts and marshmallows

winking
she extended her arm
as if holding a microphone
and for a brief moment
found myself unable to speak

you’re funny she said
pulling back her arm
turning around and kicking one leg back
suddenly vanishing before my eyes
laughing and licking
right out of dodge



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
22 Apr 2015
2 Comments

understanding the seen and unseen


there exists a presence always felt
but never seen
like an invincible god showering
the northern sky with constant light

fallen stars awaken from beneath the earth
moving northward along the shoreline
garnering strength along the way
taking on new shapes and sizes
first crawling
then swimming
eventually flying beyond
the house of the clouds

multitudes from all corners gather round
marveling at the aural phenomenon
praying for the prophets
and the preachers
to return to the land
so that they may understand
exactly what is happening



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
19 Apr 2015
6 Comments

color my world


an empty canvas in an otherwise
empty world
suspended above sands
washed clean by the hands of the moon
time after countless time

the artist is nowhere to be found
perhaps adrift at sea
in search of something unforeseen
paint brushes and palette
at rest on three-legged easel

what is lost will one day be found
the artist and canvas
reunited when least expected
bringing back color
to an otherwise empty world



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
15 Apr 2015
4 Comments

settling the score


out of nowhere billy lost everything
waking up to a note
segued by a pink slip at work
months later evicted from his
place in philadelphia

sally took it all to minnesota
life and child crammed inside
u-haul speeding north on 35
not a tear in her eye
nor ounce of shame left behind

unable to cut it on the streets
billy hit the road south to miami
playing drums and keeping warm
lip syncing in the shower
and banging his head on blue tile

back in arizona sally arrives on time
stepping off the plane
taken in by a friend of an online friend
homeschooling by day
and singing late into cool nights

on his fortieth billy falls back in time
with a young sally on coney island
arranged by a matchmaker
from oklahoma city
wishing to remain anonymous



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , ,
12 Apr 2015

rumors


they fly by as streaks of light
zipping through the city
cruising in and out of sight
sometimes pausing like shadows
inside innocent songs
other times resting within sounds
of desperate poetry

they are neither real nor imagined
but they are certainly alive
much like the wind
hurtling through the night
with nothing near or far
preventing it from existing at all



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
10 Apr 2015
9 Comments

worldwide window shopping


these marketplaces filled with footfalls
and voices and exchange of ideas
created from the minds of many
duplicated from village to small town
from small city to urban jungle
none of the gatherings remotely identical
but in essence all the same
peaceful people commingling in an
environment of constant energy
fueled by fairness and tolerance
and understanding on a sublime level
the importance of amicable inclusion



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
08 Apr 2015
3 Comments

deciding between dark and light


the room is dark but there is this
light inside me
faint yet growing
calling me by name and making me
wonder why I am so alone

there is knocking on the door
rap rap rap
knocking
someone calling my name
but I pretend it’s just a sparrow
trying to get in
wanting to nest beside me

the light grows stronger with each
passing day
but still I remain in the dark
warming a pair of dice inside my hands
afraid to let them go



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
04 Apr 2015
8 Comments

jesus from tokyo


I saw jesus on tokyo bay
speaking spanglish and
directing fishing boats
like a venerable traffic cop

dressed in seamless jeans
and oversized shirt
he unveiled the sun with his hands
welcoming all to follow in his wake

docking close to disney at night
the city prefect greeted him with
flowers and rings and keys
proceeding to escort his entourage
to the enchanted tiki room

swapping stories and feasting
on the day’s catch
tourists gradually gathered round
sampling the uncooked bounty
imported from half a world away





april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Fishing, In the City, Poetry and tagged , , , , ,

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