jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

coming & going as they please


something touched my shoulder
perhaps I had been dozing off
in & out of a dream

my eyes flickered
but it was too dark to see
instead heard metallic wind chimes
as if they had just been rewound

whoever was responsible
[for the touching and/or rewinding]
did not show themselves
in fact I started to believe they had minimized themselves
having fled into the woods behind the garden

it was cold out but plenty bright
and when I opened the blinds
the light was blinding
and for a brief moment I thought I saw them

I should have known not to open the blinds
at least not without an approving birdcall
something that had been missing
since before my self-induced slumber

I’m stuck
where I’ve been stuck
for what seems like a fortnight now
this rectangular room seemingly self-sustaining
three sides made of glass
the other w/a singular door

slightly ajar
floral & fauna
completely silent
looking in from the outside





may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

movie night


I could hear them in the kitchen
three little mice having just learned
how to make popcorn

I was rocking in the parlor
cleaning my gun & sharpening
my whittling knife
catching bits & pieces of their
unintelligible conversation

when the timer went off
I set down my block of wood
and proceeded to the kitchen
the smell of butter & salt & spilt beer
dominating my senses

cracking the basement door
all I heard were the opening credits
to walt disney’s cinderella





may two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

my first near death experience


I may have been nineteen
maybe twenty
when I nearly died
in my sleep
in my bed
sometime past midnight

below my bunk bed
an old chair smoldered
from a cigarette ash
slowly filling the room
with smoke

who awoke me
I’ll never know
but I was commanded
to wake up
as if from a dream
wake up you fool
lest you should die


when I escaped
the death chamber
the other residents
of the boarding house
quickly came back to life as well
hauling the chair away
meant for my demise





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

a pluperfect kind of past


i.

she doesn’t remember me
not the old rock & roll songs
we used to danced to
taking cocaine breaks
back in the dressing room

ii.

I’m nearly her age
but she looks twice mine
at least from my perspective
— that irreversibility of time

iii.

I hear people saying
when did I get old darling
and they say baby
you’ve been timeless
since the day you were born





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

the orphan parade


we knew the woods as well
as any wild animal
and they knew us
just the same

we tended to keep
to the minor trails
rifle & canteen strapped
on either shoulder

we were not at war
but a silent opposition
seemed to be surveilling
our movements

over time we learned
to scramble our signals
traversing in groups of three
or two or one

intercepted messages
labeled us as
the orphan parade
guardians of the trees

day by day we evolved
our mission never changing
constant orders from above
by way of telepathy





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

Breaking away


In-laws & outlaws
pretending to keep it real
laying down low in Coffeyville

One went country
two others headlong into hip-hop
the rest of the clan
sticking to rock & roll
w/an occasional nod to bluegrass

They reinvented what it means
to be broken people
having escaped the torture
of south central Kansas
settling for something brand new
something along the lines of Beverly Hills





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

the next conspiracy


not one generation will be spared
everyone has their skeletons
whether they know it or not

there’s no such thing as white lies
not as long as they keep piling on
the higher they stack up
the deeper the digging goes

bets are placed underground
bit players unknown to you & me
some of them conspiring
to rule the world
the remainder taking a number





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

rolling back the future


having the right to remain silent
perhaps is exactly what
the powers that be
actually want

here in america
the silent majority is stocking up
while the insane minority
continues rampaging
on an ongoing basis

the rise in inflation
is not slowing down sales
of smith & wessons
neither is it preventing the poor
from getting poorer

here in america
human rights
& civil rights
have taken a back seat
to electric vehicles
the gas-powered ones
converted into mobile homes
or turreted weapons





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

like tumbleweed


you follow me
blindly through the maze
electronic headlamp
casting brilliant lumens
— a projected triangular light
exposing uncertainty

high above the canopy
alien voices sing
in their native tongues
creating a singular hum
like the cicada
or the mantra
of the seven tribes

there is no end or escape
from the maze
— I reach back & you
firmly grip my hand
and with all my might
I pull & propel you forward
all in one motion
all for the sake of survival





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

out of the clear blue sky


the spacewoman arrived
unannounced
right in broad daylight
lowering her hovercraft
onto the open field
where she proceeded
to kill the fatted calf
[soon thereafter]
feeding all of the inhabitants
until they had their fill
from as far away
as the eye could see





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

Taming of the Lion


April is nearly over
& I’m mowing the lawn
in lightly falling sleet
that stops & starts
like a cat not knowing
if she wants in or out

The underbelly
of the cutting machine
cannot efficiently or
effectively mulch the wet
& overgrown grass
causing it to cease
every few swaths

My neighbors must think
I’m some sort of idiot
giving the mower
a good talking to
while on my knees
clearing the clumps
with my gloved hands
hopefully pulling the cord
for the very last time





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

limited editions


twenty-four hour browsers
pounding the streets again
like gangs of centipedes
adding to their vinyl agendas

lines wind around city blocks
storefront windows like mirrors
attracting birds & buyers
alter egos with hairbrush hands
going after a song & a dance
wrapped inside an envelope

exhaustion doesn’t exist
only sublime consumption
soothing both body & soul
speakers from the poles
reinforcing their addiction





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

the rabbit & the fox


one thousand miles behind the sun
darkness closes in
ultraviolet rays
fading in the rearview
a temporary illusion
like the fox giving chase
aided by once elusive tailwinds

though the light is faint
love is in constant motion
one thousand miles behind the sun

the rabbit is not afraid of the fox
its purpose ever changing
the pursuer off in a new direction
one thousand miles behind the sun





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

stranger without or within


I had lost all stream of consciousness
after witnessing an unusual light
as if it had pulled me out of my body
exposing me to all things possible

I imagine what had happened
will gradually fade over time
leaving me with strange conclusions
and ever expanding interpretations

what’s left is either a vague emptiness
or a voracious appetite for more
the resurrection of a stranger
blindsiding me with love





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

in the land of make-believe


let’s see
how easily it is
to honestly deceive
in this world of make-believe
convincing yourself
the only truth
worth its weight
resides inside
a frame of mind
that may or may not
be eternal
whilst any & all things
orbiting around it
is simply an extension
of grander possibilities





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

or a person of color


it’s come down to
simple math
living here in these
united states
where no county or
city or town is safe
the simple equation
boiling down
to a matter of mere time
where one fine day
I’ll be walking freely
through a quiet neighborhood
only to be gunned down
as if I was some sort
of wanted man
or a person of color





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

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