jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “peace”

time of the season


there is a time to play
and a time for prayer
the forgiveness of the day
     quickly vanishing
history books laced with hypocrisy
theoretically evolving
from one generation to the next

extremes seem to be
the flavor of the day
whether for fun or destruction
     food for thought
wrapped in body art or hatred
ideological musings
rallying for peace or executions





october two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

celebrating another year of peace


it was her birthday the other day
so I sent her some feathers
it wasn’t exactly an inside joke
but she was most appreciative

we were supposed to hang low
instead took a trip elsewhere
two tickets to nowhere
though we were far from alone

I kept having to make changes
turning feathers into stones
stones into double roses
with hardly a place to grow

there was water everywhere
inside this landlocked nation
cleansing all the feathers & stones
continually accumulating




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

live streaming current events


they told us to stay inside
that there was nothing outside
needing to be seen
but the fact of the matter was
the world was changing
quickly & quite dramatically
and if we were allowed
to go outside & witness first hand
what was actually happening
we probably would have been unable
to demonstrate to our children
exactly how peace fell on earth




january two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

anywhere else in the world


not sure how many more degrees of separation
I’m willing to accept at this late stage of the game

the masses are becoming even more massive
thanks to this unstoppable reproduction of the species

I’m sitting on a park bench removing all thought
and suddenly none of this is no longer happening

a stranger comes up to me & offers me a cold drink
I happily accept & in silence we drink in the name of peace

blocks away there is violence & incalculable hatred
marching in an organized yet chaotic way

I wonder if we should leave & she reads my thoughts
assuring me we are safer here than anywhere imaginable




june two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

after the cities fall


listen to the music
it’s just about everywhere
whether piped in out of thin air
or playing loud & live
right in your own backyard

no matter the time of day
the music attracts
birds & bees & curiosity seekers
traveling distances near & far
to feel what you feel

nobody wants to leave
after all it’s the place to be
where the music never ends
and peace & harmony
has begun to take root




june two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

though the earth never stops quaking


streetlamps shining
casting eerie shadows
before the dead of dawn
crows waking sparrows
the former curiously trailing
one thousand feet
marching on city streets

some say even though
the earth never stops quaking
the fog of war will one day
dissipate unto itself
giving way to a certain
kind of incomparable light
like an everlasting sunrise




january two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

practicing the art of peace


we believe in the art of words
realists with a biased agenda
embracing a not too distant past
when freedom superseded profit

trading weaponry in for pens
and ammunition for paper
we recreate a new world order
based on a peaceful tomorrow




november two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

cease fire


who shall we condemn today
and who shall we elevate
picking and choosing
like gods openly playing favorites

how many times must we surrender
until peace reigns on earth
and how many times must our
hearts be tested before
proving our intentions are true

and those gods who willfully
come and go at their leisure
who’s to say they’re not the ones
continually adding fuel to the fire





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reflections in the night


two score after the destruction of civility
a strange peace swept across the planet

it was the year twenty ninety-five
and all major technological advances
of the past 100 years had been laid to rest

I was a mere teenager living off the land
somewhere in africa or asia or america
the exact location dependent upon
the moment my implant became inoperative

instinctively I became one with the sun
the moon and all the stars of the sky
gradually coming to realize I am nothing
but a child of all generations past
born to light a candle each and every night





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

down below peace ebbs and flows


winter stars have long moved on
replaced by tin soldiers
recaptured and rehabilitated
forced to wear bold
and vibrant colors
and pledge allegiance to the queen

eastern front is nowhere to be found
come february
not without a rifle and bayonet
nor any working instrument
allowing you to chart
new stars unveiling new gateways

boundary waters gradually thaw
making moon appear
much more liquid and palatable
racing across land by day
seven seas by night
everchanging like an adversary





december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

atomic rain clouds


if the morning sun
rising above the horizon
whether seen or unseen
is not enough to inspire you
then by all means sleep in

otherwise rise to the occasion
and take to the skies
awarding your condition
by reaching a peace within
a peace which cannot be attained
without addressing the unspeakable





june two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

white dove


mother will never die
and i will always remain the child
falling fast asleep to a sound
repetitiously opposing the light

it’s not like
she didn’t know what was best for me
but purposely stopped feeding me
and released me to the sky

lifting her arms up high
cupped hands slowly open
little wings quick at the chance to fly
absorbing all the outside repetition
memorized from within



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Not in this town


I come in peace said the warrior prince
dressed like a peafowl and riding a
gray warhorse adorned in rhinestones
pearl-handled pistols at his side

The women ruling these lands
rejected his claims and quickly
stripped him of his royalty
sentencing him (without due course)
to a life of hard labor in the diamond mines

As for his band of hapless soldiers
(and his pearl-handled pistols)
they were rounded up and taken to
Timbuktu where they were sold on the
open-market for pennies on the dollar



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

peace and serenity reprised


how is it you can turn nothing into
something in a matter of seconds

you reach up and snatch some fresh air
(without ever going outside)
and when you open your clenched fist
the place smells like lavender and lemon

it was you who opened your heart
to peace and serenity
recently pardoned by the sitting president
released into your custody after serving
thousands of years of a life sentence

there’s so much more I need to learn
you remember eagerly telling them
now let’s roll up our sleeves and figure out
exactly who needs us most



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

outside these city walls


I was thinking about changing things up
by rising out of bed without an agenda
hitting the streets on steel tipped boots
marching alongside a new kind of drummer

they blocked off the old holiday parade route
days before dismantled tanks rolled in
armless soldiers handing out ruby red grapefruits
and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies

I walked alongside millions of newfound friends
all drawn to this place by an unknown star
embracing change with song and dance
(while outside these city walls)
stockpiles of old ideas burned day and night



october two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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