jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “peace”

until we conquer death we will never be able to broker peace


you kill for your god
you rape and maim and murder
all for your god

you carry objects in your pockets
a license to kill the guilty
along with the innocent

your god has made you judge
grand jury and executioner
and deservedly so
for he is a righteous dude
and his prejudices are warranted
even though he oftentimes transmits
disturbing orders
you have no choice but to carry out

all the real estate in the world
belongs to your god
and so you go out and capture
as many flags as you can

no questions asked


august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I will find you


I will find you in the corner of my mind
where wildflowers replaced minefields
deactivated by protectors of the peace

I will find you living amongst the dead
melding within the countryside
free from worry and
greeting each morning with open arms

I will find you like a promise finds a keeper
like a satellite finds her signal
like a caterpillar finds new life


august two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

wind chime outside my window


winds of change remain the same
although uncertain futures often
bear the best fruit

half a world away pacified oceans
symbolize endless opportunities
for lasting peace

much like the butterfly
there are no boundaries as long
as there is wind to sail
    and the wind
         oh the wind
breathes forth new life
exhaling a new kind of love
never before seen


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

eighty-four percent


it’s any morning or afternoon
or evening
worshipers gathering where they will
like thespians on a stage
performing acts of contrition
chants and meditations
spiritually decoding their past

evolution is quite remarkable
if you take the time to study
movements germinating and
bursting onto the scene
generating marvelous successes
and even greater failures

but any day comes and any day goes
for violence and destruction
do not pause
(oh no not for any faith)
and there will be much lamenting to endure
privately and on the streets
every single day of the week

there is a quiet place in the library
where google will tell you
eighty-four percent of the world
identifies with peaceful religions

be careful where you clique


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

may the poetry gods be with you


we don’t like to talk about the process
don’t want to give away anything
just in case it might be worth
something one day

trying to keep up with the joneses
is a no-win situation given they
rarely rely upon sleep or fortune
to achieve immortality

there are so many words that rhyme
with love and nature and
peace be with you
yet there seem to be much fewer ways
to make hatred and violence
obsolete in this day and age



june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

drifting toward the omega


there is silence in the streets
a serene silence
an incomprehensible silence

there are children drifting
in the streets
war-torn children
holding hands and drifting
toward an unknown destination

the fear in their eyes
no longer exists
has been replaced
by a kind of nothingness
this world has ever seen

there are no communications
of any kind
no devices capable of
broadcasting
the deafening silence

and as far as the children
are concerned
they have collectively discerned
peace should never
be made in such ways


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the march for peace is a slow one


it seems like the month of may again
let’s have a parade

lay down your arms
and raise the white flag
for the prince is born this day

embrace these times of peace
and promise to never let go


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

winds of change


it’s not a job
but a livelihood
digging holes in the ground
and filling them back in
marching behind foot soldiers
a shovel for a rifle

the long grass past that hill
the one taken back
over a year and fortnight ago
grows wildly bright
naturally fertilized by both
allies and enemies

I wonder what I’ll become
when the world
embraces reconciliation
wonder what vocation
I could possibly embrace
to honor those still alive


march two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

toward the next tipping point


boots in the distance pounding the street
sounding off in perfect rhythm
like a faraway train

legs run in many directions
escaping lawless neighborhoods
arms signaling to the sky
screaming at nobody in particular
just calling out to be heard

airwaves are crowded with inaudible
communications
delivered in technological languages
subjected to interception and
precision translation

there is nothing secret going on
throughout the greatest cities
where multitudes
of the most ordinary
amass in breathless harmony


february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Karaoke in New Afghanistan


Halfway through ‘Californication’
I realized there wasn’t a designated
driver in the place

we were thirty miles away from home
and knee-deep in a melting pot
patrons calling out for shots
in at least a half-dozen languages

I nailed that song even though I stumbled
through the second verse
lost in my own thoughts
worried about how things might be
come tomorrow’s sunrise

but then
when the entire house came to their feet
whistling
and shouting
and clapping above their heads
I could only imagine how Lennon
would one day love it here



This poem prompted by Poetics: War for peace – or just hard work? via dVerse Pub


december two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

brainstorming


little hands reach for stars
dangling on strings overhead
dying to be called upon by
mystics challenged to ignite
their transparent inner workings

wet tea leaves randomly stuck
across the blackboard
challenge their inquisitive minds
made to solve complex problems
with unmistakable ingenuity

there are no wrong answers
circulating in this classroom
free from outside corruptions
and ideological interferences
where real ideas for lasting peace
and harmony
become smashed
into bits
and pieces


november two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

losing a whole year


while staying on the down low
I kept an ear to the ground
and an eye to the sky
surmising how many hours
would pass before the start
of the next armed conflict

after giving up on solving
the odds for world peace
I moved on to other worldly problems
proposing solutions with a
little help from friends
living inside my head

while good-meaning people
feared I had been brainwashed
by some religious cult
I’ll be damned if it was me
walking in the shadows these past
three hundred sixty-five days


september two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

worldwide window shopping


these marketplaces filled with footfalls
and voices and exchange of ideas
created from the minds of many
duplicated from village to small town
from small city to urban jungle
none of the gatherings remotely identical
but in essence all the same
peaceful people commingling in an
environment of constant energy
fueled by fairness and tolerance
and understanding on a sublime level
the importance of amicable inclusion



april two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

on rare occasions she fell to her knees


I gave birth to peace and named her chance
raised her sheltered from the realities
of a desperate world

coming of age she traveled abroad
fell in love with mercenary work
promising to end man’s repeated mistakes
and reverse the cycle of madness

she circled the globe to feed the hungry
and comfort the orphaned
mending open wounds from strangers
protecting their own unresolved pasts

on rare occasions she fell to her knees
and cursed me for her failures
the pain in her prayers piercing my arm
reminding me
just how much I miss her



november two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

recounting history


the torch may fade from time to time
may flicker like a pilot’s light
disappearing over the sea

below the surface the torch
resumes its glow
likely to be found by henchmen
digging foxholes

beware the silence
they warned
lifting their torches
and charging a newfound
enemy with fiery explosions

in the aftermath smoldering fires
resurrect memories of old promises
feeding those who hunger
rebuilding what was destroyed

as new histories emerge new
generations evolve
securing the torches in submerged silos
believing that without peace
all the yesterdays of the world
added up to nothing



november two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

keeping the peace


she was an unlucky kind of girl
and though she wasn’t sure
what that meant
she loved to say it nonetheless

born scorpio with pisces rising
she always wondered
why there wasn’t a thirteenth house
one in which she could run and
hide from a world spinning inwards

safely tucked inside her
mysteriously secretive mind
she only assumes a
peacekeeping role after
extinguishing all other options



august two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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