jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “dreams”

catching up with the midnight rider


I miss everything reckless
and I’m bound and determined
to make another run at it
barreling down river road
giving chase to the current

most times it’s impossible
to catch the leader (of the pack)
let alone decipher exactly
who put what in motion

even without all the facts
I’m prepared to move on
singing a song I’ve not forgotten
when once upon a time
I dreamed I was a little girl



march two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

    in pursuit of peace


    the bounty on my head
    keeps going up
    or so I’ve heard from the
    monotonous talking heads
    streaming in the air

    I’m feeling much better
    since crossing the mississippi
    heading east by northeast
    toward an unknown place
    where sanctuaries still exist

    secret agent men
    keep hunting me in my sleep
    but I manage to elude them
    by rolling over into
    a new form of reality

    I know every inch of concrete
    and railway between
    this world and the next
    where I am destined to settle
    into indescribable peace



    february two thousand seventeen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    it’s gonna snow sometime soon


    it’s early february
    but the calendar has yet to turn

    there’s no snow on the ground
    but it’s cold as hell
    people dressed for spring and shivering
    whiskey beginning to wear off
    hands shaking for another shot

    the sun never shined in january
    it was a record year

    without the sun I can’t dream (she used to say)

    I get up earlier and earlier every day
    thinking I might catch the sun somehow

    but you live in the valley (she says)

    oh yes I keep forgetting

    there’s no whiskey in the cupboard
    it disappeared that wintry night
    they took away my baby

    when’s it going to snow again (she says)



    february two thousand seventeen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    kansas city blues


    sky big and cloudless
    I count the days of sobriety

    looking down the track
    all I see are sixes
    rolling on down the line

    paper hat stuffed in back pocket
    patterned like salt and pepper
    sporting paper suit and
    folding paper planes
    riding atop the dream train

    kansas city’s but a night
    or two away
    its lights and sounds
    pulsating in my veins



    january two thousand seventeen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    at one with the earth


    they huddle around the fire
    the little ones in front
    wrapped in animal hides
    and mesmerized by the flames

    black and bedazzled
    is the sky
    spotlighting
    exhalations of storytellers
    reading from unwritten books

    soundless nights accentuate
    the reality of dreams
    projecting and protecting
    the history of a people
    at one with the earth



    december two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    rapid eye movement


    trees speak in your sleep
    like those three dogs
    chained up down the street
    scratching at the aluminum fence
    and digging holes in
    all the wrong places

    trees speak in your sleep
    using the wind and
    birds and insects as carriers
    scratching out memos
    and pontificating about the evils
    of the new world order

    trees speak in your sleep
    sharing secrets from the shire
    hosting a murder of crows
    gathering above the creek
    whispering incessantly
    fearing you may awaken



    december two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    déjà vu and me


    I am tired but I wake up anyway

    I don’t dare dream of showering for fear
    that I may never get out

    yesterday I had hypothermia
    at least that’s what I thought
    but every time I took my temperature
    it said I had a fever

    I don’t play the french lottery
    but for some reason
    I keep checking the numbers

    I used to dream of blackbirds
    screaming at the sunrise
    but now all I get are sunsets
    exploding exactly like last night



    november two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    Little Bo Peep’s Awakening


    She wore a cotton dress on a warm
    and sunny day
    slightly off-white and sleeveless
    complementing and accentuating
    her light brown skin

    He wore his casual Sunday best
    strolling along
    white button-down oxford shirt
    starkly contrasting pleated charcoal slacks
    creased perfectly

    Sitting on park bench imagining
    her breathing slows
    her inner thoughts pressing on
    unaware of sights and sounds passing by
    before her eyes

    From out of the fold he reappears
    like a lost lamb
    wandering most aimlessly
    a blot on the vastness of her dreamscape
    off-black yet bright



    november two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    as I turn off the light


    the sun rises in the east
    and there is no place to escape

    time chases me in my sleep
    forcing me into places I would
    never dare enter otherwise

    the sun dangling over my shoulder
    I’m reminded I could be facing
    something much worse
    than my own shadow

    the city streets are cold tonight
    interminable winds whistling
    past streetlights that never dim



    october two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    bull frogs and fairy tales


    pretty princess sleeping on bed of nails
    unable to differentiate between dreams
    and real life kisses on the lips

    at the hotel hilton she sleeps in
    every single sunday
    undisturbed by pretty maids wielding
    feather dusters and vacuum cleaners

    on mondays she checks out early
    wandering the commonwealth’s streets
    steering clear of the king’s wishes
    and searching for something italian



    october two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    like no tomorrow


    my inner clock
    wakes me when
    I am tired
    reminds me to take
    pictures of my past
    whether or not I’ll ever
    revisit them

    napping on couch
    sunrays creep inside
    my cobweb dreams
    shaking them
    making my eyelids flutter

    photographs flash
    frame after frame
    like an accelerating
    motion picture
    the sun hardly
    visible on bright canvass
    falling rapidly like a
    comet with no tomorrow



    october two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

    in search of stars and mermaids


    I stepped onto a rocket ship
    hoping it would take me away
    from all earthly woes

    a couple hundred bucks seemed
    like a fair trade toward becoming
    more or less ungrounded

    the view from the top supersedes
    all things seen and unseen
    no matter how fleeting
    like a beauty queen

    unstrapped and plummeting
    supersonically
    gravity fought the law and
    contained me
    inside an asylum disguised
    as a yellow submarine
    far below the oily surface



    september two thousand sixteen
    copyright j matthew waters
    all rights reserved

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