jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

going back in time


there is a certain silence
beneath the noise
buzzing inside my brain

to get there is a long
complicated journey
something like one step forward
and two steps back

eventually you’ll be young
once again
where silence doesn’t exist
and the noise
was something you sought
from the time you rose from the dead

it is never definable
and if it ever was
you would never be able
to give it any kind of justice





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

strumming on an old guitar


it was showtime in no time
james taylor playing in the background
strumming on an old guitar

in the back room
sounds beautifully muffled
a single rose rising out of a tall pilsner glass
a passerby unable to keep her eyes
off of the blue & the black

the music is everywhere
and if you’re alive but don’t hear it
there is little need to worry
in just a matter of time you will


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

unforeseen


downsizing
minimizing space
something deemed necessary
to complement my remaining days

house & car traded in for cash
found an efficiency
in a downtown tower
a room w/a singular view
the river
an oak tree
aliens passing by

now you see me
again you don’t
a game played from dusk till dawn
& in between
almost anything goes
all of it virtually unforeseen


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

one way out


mostly a quiet neighborhood
complete with a cat colony
and an underground network
of russian-speaking moles

I’d been here for years
over two decades to be imprecise
come to learn change
doesn’t necessarily taste any better
with a grain of salt
or dash of tabasco

one year the winds swept
most of the trees away
another canoes & kayaks
became the prevalent mode
of transportation

in one corner of the garage
laid out plans for jet propulsion
& kitty-corner from there
a pair of unrepaired angel wings


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

blind horizon


and when the sun becomes
barely visible in the west
and as the winds die down
and cirrus clouds turn deep blue
a cacophony of bird calls
usher in the indefinable dusk


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

lost at sea


where did you go
I thought we were talking
about albinos
or more specifically
the great white sperm whale

I was telling you
after nearly 200 pages
nothing much had breached the surface
and then all of a sudden
you were gone


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

a slip of the mind


a red mcintosh
kitchen knife & cutting board
a recipe for blood on the horizon
like the summer sun
bleeding into the sea
knowing nothing can be done
in stopping
the impending happening


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

when a child is sent to war


children are born
with war in their DNA
their little bones recycled
from recent burial grounds
reconstructed by an invisible god
trying to get it right
but whatever lessons there might be
do not stick to anything
especially to a child’s DNA


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

king of pain


every sunday I reboot the modem
kicking out the demons
mired inside my wired mind

the sun didn’t rise again
tired eyes blinking thru the haze
right hand still free of pain


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

a stopover on the far side


there I go again
off into the unknown
can’t you see me waving goodbye
way up high in the sky
my arms like supersonic wings
folded behind my shoulders
my legs tucked inside the fuselage
on my way to the moon
to spend a night or two
a brief interlude before moving on


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

sometimes they go country


sometimes they go crazy
for many good reasons
sometimes they rise & fall
faster than a new york minute
but sometimes they go country
none other than to prove
that by tweaking the attitude
just about anything
can be done


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

opening day


so I was on the mound
for the very first time
wearing dodger blue
having a stare down contest
with the three-legged catcher
sixty feet south of me

he kept calling for fastballs
but all I could deliver
were sliders or spitballs
all impossible to hit
most likely because
my fingers were on fire


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

force majeure


the trees were laughing
at the incredulous wind
slender fingerlike branches
bending down to the water’s edge

the trees were pleading
to the impossible waters
drowning vulnerable roots
slowly rising from trunk to canopy

the trees were dying
all for the sake of change
self-fulfilling to some extent
but certainly never self-imposed


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

block by city block


there used to be a park there
look at it now
not a single tree stands
the 2.5 acres transitioned
into a living breathing pancake
leveled to the ground
by the stroke of a wand
turning past reality into a
futuristic burial ground


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

lost compassion


why do you feel this way
sister of the angels
after fleeing from the crowd
and back to the apparent safety
of the underground

what madness is your method
looking the other way
second guessing your beliefs
escaping all on your own
not once looking back

for those left behind
trapped inside the crosshairs
who will lead the charge
delivering them to safety
now that you remain at large





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

you can’t take them with you


I’ve been gathering stones and such
for as long as I can remember

I put them into mason jars
store them in the vacated wine cellar

If I can’t figure out what to do with them all
I’m sure someday someone else will


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

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