jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “dreams”

occurrences at the break of dawn


I’ve repeating dreams
experiencing violent deaths
but each morning
I awaken unharmed

the occurrences are infrequent
but make no mistake
the pattern cannot be overlooked
each episode unrelated to the next

periodically I wonder
or better yet analyze the meaning
behind these dreams
whether what I’m witnessing
has absolutely nothing to do with me
and everything to do with you




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the damsel and her prince


let me dream like never before
cast into a strange accepting world
living and breathing effortlessly
neither on land nor in sea
rather somewhere in between

here there is no such thing
as rest or sleep or fantasy
always on the move like damselflies
flitting from flower to flower
kissing ghost-like amphibians




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the dawn chorus


first there was the final dream
approaching morning light
bedroom curtains breathing in and out
mimicking my own circadian rhythm
and welcoming the dawn chorus

birds beginning to think it’s spring
how they invade my subconscious
pretending to be children
reincarnated from fallen leaves
singing from the tallest trees

one morning that will be me
having not awakened from the dream
free falling like a leaf among many
reaching out and believing
finally participating in the dawn chorus




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

my story retold in the third person


these flashbacks
occurring with greater frequency
how young will I be
three or four hours from now
once giving in to the idea
the night is endless

I’ve come to accept
they’re no longer merely dreams
rather ageless recordings
reshuffled and replaying
a not too distant past
from a totally different perspective

at three-thirty in the morning
I’m wide awake
and quite positive
I’ve always been fast asleep




january two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

there at the end of the road


how can I possibly change now
or can I see the world in a whole new light
a paradigm shift so to speak
where I am no longer the victim
but savior of my own home town

I didn’t return here only to be idle
someone said there were roads to lay
replacing gravel with yellow bricks
all the way from otter’s creek
to the mouth of the mighty river

and there at the end of the road
(or shall I say the beginning)
there I stand wading in the water
like the renegade baptist himself
proclaiming the possibility of a new life
to those who dare to dream




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

from the book of Jonah


what’s that inside your belly
swimming around
in a world all unto itself

how do you sleep at night
eyes wide open
welcoming anything
wanting to explore deep inside
like time travelers hell bent on
finding the next milky way

sometimes you imagine
morning will never come
cat scratching at the screen
more or less a metaphor
seeking shelter
or simply acceptance




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

final curtain call


morning rains have yet to fall
but already I hear it pounding
repeatedly on the concrete
interrupting third act
of my long-standing dream

it’s impossible to control crowds
once making mad dashes
leaving lone gunman isolated
taking potshots at moon phases
painted on domed ceilings

smoke billowing out windows
deputies arrive from all over
precisely securing the perimeter
omniscient orders echoing
come out with your hands up




august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

bringing clarity to your desires


despite desiring discipline in your world
you subconsciously remain unfocused
channeling your passion toward the unknown
and rubbing shoulders with forces not seen

old souls sidestepping in the shadows
just as lonely and desperate as the living
serenading their favorite verses a cappella
barely audible through plastered walls

well past midnight you are restlessly asleep
contemplating many intriguing options
playing them out in your so-called dreams
operating with full force your physical being




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

one warm winter’s night


you come to me as a spirit
poking and prodding and
whispering sweet discretions in my ear
but I am fast asleep like a bear hibernating
periodically shivering
but mainly motionless and soundless
secretly enjoying a series of
interconnected dreams
leading me from one kiss to the next




july two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

wander this world


what is to become of me my love
now that the sun shines anew

tomorrow was meant for dreams
an inheritance of possibilities
unfulfilled by your sudden departure

hesitant to wander this world again
I beg the sun to sink no further
praying your undying love
resurfaces as you once promised




june two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

midmorning visions


settling into melancholic reflection
off and on rain and weakening sun
falling behind green glistening treeline
a reminder how tricks of the mind
turn fact into fiction

I’ve seen this scenery off and on
but each time the outcome varies
especially come midmorning
eyelids repeatedly blinking
dreams working overtime

though sunlight often penetrates
past horizontal slats
many times it’s nothing but madness
mysteriously flickering off and on
desperately trying to awaken me




may two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reconstructing until kingdom come


out of thin air paper castles
tower above cumulus clouds
constructed by men skilled at
shaping dreams into
concrete ideas

I remained at ground zero
unfolding plans on a tabletop
saying look see here
this is where we must rebuild

and so we burned everything
on the spot
a virtual bonfire slowly growing
visible by satellite
smoke in the sky billowing
shaped like an ark
carrying away pairs of anything
that ever was or will be





march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: