jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “death”

a plethora of time


she hadn’t died rather simply overslept
but for a moment we had held our breath

it stormed from dusk and well past dawn
young and old alike dreaming undisturbed

daylight delayed and electricity off grid
challenging life and impersonating pause

she hadn’t died rather simply overslept
at least for the moment or so we were told




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

making preparations


hard to imagine what will be
once accumulating everything
outside an efficiency shell
baby cries and heartfelt tears
twelve packs and doctor visits
stocks and bonds and mutual funds
fruits and vegetables and perennials
a bouquet of annuals behind your back

you learn to feed and water yourself
shaping and reshaping with razor sharp tools
growing and trimming and growing again
redefining yourself year after year
nobody noticing subtle changes

but you notice nearly everything
newly awakened apparitions
playfully passing through pyramid walls
entering your subconscious night and day
filling prescriptions and making preparations
much like the ancient egyptians used to do




june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I died in my dream last night


do you remember me
I was the one who died in his
sleep last night

as I recall you were with me
and I had pleaded
that you slow things down
but we went veering off the path anyway
projected into an orbit
defying quantum mechanics

it wasn’t the first time
I went sailing off into space
never to return
the world below me gradually
becoming smaller
the next one
suddenly
becoming familiar





may two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how shall I die tonight


how shall I die tonight
in this bountiful place
where all eyes remain
unfocused and fixed
on the light beyond
the second horizon

there is contagion
in the unspoken word
spread across lifetimes
where opposites attract
and darkness seeks
the faintest of light

how shall I die tonight
embraced in your arms
your sustaining words
like a whispering stream
meandering toward
something much quieter





february two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the death of a poet


my words bleed no more
bandaged and clotted
how they stop in their tracks
my entire body trembling
for the very last time

three angels hover above me
I pretend not to see them
and though they say nothing
I easily read their thoughts
just as they easily know mine

I ask for pen and paper
but nobody hears my call
so I arise from the table
unshaken and all on my own
resurrecting words left unsaid




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

where trumpets blare and angels sing


illusory winds swept me northwesterly
carrying me from one destination to the next
as if I had no idea where I would land
or how I could have possibly arrived there

gravity eluded me and I wondered
whether I was dead or alive
had I mysteriously grown my own wings
soaring on my own accord
or was I hitched to the back of some
wild and magical invisible creature

approaching the magnetic pole
flight patterns give way to controlled chaos
disappearing into mystical aurora
casting me back to where I once started




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the night is endless


the day grows weary
unrelenting heat
southern winds
falling sun illuminating
quarter-size moon
rising from the east

fearful to fall asleep
morning sun comes too soon
or maybe not all
incomplete images
shuttering and fluttering
like black and white
moving pictures

I keep the shades drawn
nearly all the way
save an inch or two
just enough room
to let the rooster look in

the night is endless
this much we know
instinctively we cling
to the morning light
and celebrate
for all it’s worth




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

crossing the river


though I feel sick I am not ill
this ever changing weather
playing games with my frame of mind
keeps me tossing and turning when wide awake
making me move onward
and upward
as I delve deep into
my most precious dream state

I often wonder who’s going to protect me
from thy enemy

how many times do I have to remind myself
to step away from the window

we’ve crossed this river many times
and will cross again if we must
enjoining many hands
together stepping like a human net
resurrecting life by conquering death




march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

it’s all right if I don’t answer this one


someone’s rapping on the door
and all I can think of is why oh why
aren’t they ringing the bell

I run out back and around
the side of the garage
peering toward the front door

lo and behold it’s big bird
holding thirteen helium filled balloons
red and black and white and of course yellow
blue furred cookie monster by his side
somewhat annoyed yet content
munching on a box of thin mints

I must be out of my mind I say
shaking my head
retreating back to where I once was
repeating to myself how death
never arrives as imagined





november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

looking in through revolving door


back of my hands are cold
I shiver at the thought of death
creeping on me invisibly
he dares not show his face
knowing I won’t go easily

temptation placed on hold
insulated from princely wrath
replaced by deceit and trickery
dancing in sweet embrace
revolving throughout eternity



october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

digging up dirt on a sunday afternoon


I wasn’t looking for anything
which was the whole point

out of the blue I discovered the knowledge
I thought I had acquired over the years
has been with me all along

year by year and one by one
I give up that which was given to me
whether I had wanted it or not
whether I had loved it
or hated it
or felt entirely indifferent toward it

there is truth and there is trust
neither quite like the other
but both touchable and tastable
as fleeting as death itself

and so when I am busily digging
not looking for anything in particular
I find myself uncovering
that which is worth dying for





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on call on a friday night


how do I replace all the friends
I’ve lost along the way
at what point will it be the end
of the road for me

it’s silly to dwell on such thoughts
but sometimes ego
unexpectedly takes over
suggesting I fall to my knees

road signs keep cropping up
further and further from the city
expanding the time it takes
to find inner peace

meanwhile I sit idly by
counting virtual dollars in the
palm of my hand
waiting somewhat impatiently





october two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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