jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

18 Sep 2018

under construction


the borders are porous
like interconnecting dreams
where one place leads to the next
until eventually you’re backed into a corner
expected to answer
questions from past events
you’re certain never existed

the borders are porous
and the underground tunnels are as real
as supersonic air travel
stampedes running at full speed
seemingly 185 miles per hour
(giving chase or)
being chased by every enemy
known to man

and the borders are porous
like a dam in disrepair
these small river towns
becoming inundated by innuendo
every able man and woman
found guilty by association
locked away and certain to drown
for no apparent reason




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
17 Sep 2018
2 Comments

she put a spell on me


she put a spell on me
made me change my mind in mid-thought
as if I hadn’t missed a beat

after so many years of leading a solitary life
I admitted I desired to see the world
and she agreed I should go
for there was little left for me to do here
except keeping pace and time

I wasn’t surprised she sent me packing
no questions asked
knowing full well she’d be with me
every step of the way




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
15 Sep 2018
5 Comments

another saturday night


don’t make me get up I yelled at the dog
(in my sleep) but it was too late

the sun had been down for god knows how long
and though I was close to REM sleep
the almighty stench abruptly woke me up

by the time I reached the kitchen
and turned on the light
the cat was meowing like a maniac
but I wasn’t sure if he was in or out

I walked to the back door
and he leapt at me from out of nowhere
shredding the back of my tee
making me nearly piss my pants

needless to say I (figuratively) kicked him
out into the night

I returned to the kitchen to clean things up
thereafter proceeding to cut up
the watermelon sitting on the counter
along with a few lemons and a dozen
or so freshly picked strawberries

it was still saturday night and since I was
wide awake with no place to go
I poured myself a beer and
retired to the next room
began trying my hand at poetry




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Animals, Poetry and tagged , , ,
14 Sep 2018
2 Comments

life again


I left the city for fields of goldenrod
painted by many artists over the years
fresh in my mind for reasons I cannot explain

if I had stayed I’d surely be dead by now
having fallen to the atrocious ills of society
either by murder or apparent suicide

I am far from home but closer to reality
like the shepherd is to his flock
like a mother to her newborn




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Micropoetry, Nature, Poetry and tagged , ,
13 Sep 2018

looking past forward looking thoughts


I tried to look her in the eye
but she turned away and
walked out of my life

so I sat there alone
surrounded by strangers
wondering when in the world
I’d be able confide in someone

confidence has been lacking
exuberance long exhausted
I paced the waiting room
soon found myself reading
thoughts of those around me

I sensed I had been here before
but had gotten nowhere
but this time
reading those many thoughts of
hope and resurrection
I started to convince myself
that somehow
this place must be different




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
12 Sep 2018

the story always ends


I was reading short stories and listening
to soulful blues on a lazy
hazy afternoon
lost in two worlds
subconsciously conjoining them
believing (deep down inside)
my own reality never did exist

I inch toward the edge of the chair
placing book to the side
reaching for the telecaster
unplugged I experiment
with chord progressions
sort of singing beneath my breath
my own improvised dialogue




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
11 Sep 2018
2 Comments

lost inside last encore


orchestra plays in the back of my mind
coming through not too loud
but perfectly clear
drowning out anything and everything
attempting to keep me alive

there are dozens of channels
scrambling in thin air
all of them wanting in on the action
dancing on the ledge of creation
like alternative rock & roll

others are eager to get involved
in my invitation only affairs
crawling in sprawling lines
imagining catching a glimpse of
yesterday’s american pie




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
10 Sep 2018

here on the gallows


you introduce yourself as a marionette
victimized by outside forces
controlling your outwardly actions
even thoughts from within

you ask me to touch your hands and feet
as if you are jesus christ himself
back in the flesh to save
one damaged soul at a time

though there are no puncture wounds
I begin to believe in your stories
how your thoughts connect with mine
just as you say they do

dancing at midday on public stage
your strings entangle my limbs
drawing me closer into your web
until there is no space between us

deceit and lies no longer exist
you whisper into my ear
only your insanity and my reality
exposed for all to see



september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
09 Sep 2018

in your own words


it’s getting late and the demons
have agreed to return
after being away for so long

it’s late in the day
early evening if you may
summer season fading fast
sun falling and nearly powerless
winds picking up and slightly chilly
sending mind and body shivering

shaking yourself loose of cobwebs
you walk away from the grey
turning on lights
brewing black tea
grabbing a flannel from the closet

you can hear them in the other room
murmuring and scheming and giggling
fidgeting in their chairs
waiting for you to return
serving tray in tow

as you enter they quickly change
their demeanor
slipping into their game faces
knowing full why you called them
but excited nonetheless
to hear it in your own words




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
08 Sep 2018
2 Comments

five hundred miles to go


there is no time for crying
only time for doing
before there is no time at all

I used to run with angels
but now they only shun me
tired of my unnecessary tirades
questioning who is right
and who is wrong

now that I find myself alone
able to stitch and sew
breathing easier as they say
comfortable with isolation
meditating and medicating

with a little help from outside forces
I’m finally coming to terms with
events long ago transpired
grudgingly forgiving myself
reluctantly moving on




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged ,
07 Sep 2018

one minute past midnight


I wish tomorrow arrives without fanfare
lazy saturday morning
nondescript and unpretentious like
orange slices and strawberry fields

magic clock on wall running backwards
chasing white mice without purpose
having nothing better to do
than nibble on yellow eye of the sun

how many mornings have I awakened
to the silent strike of dawn
cricket wings translucent and exhausted
surrendering to avian multiverses




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Nature, Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
06 Sep 2018

and the river rages red


they say the river flows red
(this time of year)
due to recent unnatural phenomena
such as climate change
police brutality
and civil unrest

torrential rains cannot dilute
the redness of the river
its banks overflowing
disrupting lives already in need
anguishing over missing person reports
needlessly accumulating
inside wire baskets

power brokers talk of flood walls
(to contain the problem)
but on the streets
there is no such thing as protection
there are only lives that matter
walking the finest of lines
staring down the face of injustice
red river raging from within




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in In the City, Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
04 Sep 2018

exploring new mental territories


awakening each morning without aid
internal mechanisms change with the times
self-greasing gears constanting adapting
fueled by the sun

doors open and shut
revealing interrupted darkness
casting you out into abandoned streets
southern sky lighting up in your favor
you walk without thinking
head held high

where your feet take you is less important
than how your mind wanders
be it carving out valleys as prescribed by mother
or digging deeper underground
rediscovering inalienable treasure




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , | Leave a comment
03 Sep 2018
2 Comments

nonrefundable


history resides in books
interpreted one way and the next
just as folklore exists in spoken word form
living and dying and carrying on

of course past performance
has no bearing in what may lie ahead
so it’s best to fill your tank
and pack them books and move on

if this town was meant for you
your dreams would have told you so
speaking in no uncertain terms
like hand signals from the dead

now that your guru-slash-savior
has passed on
so too you must move forward
disregarding past sins
(that may or may not be reconciled)
and catching the next flight
as far from your comfort zone
as possible




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in History, Poetry and tagged ,
02 Sep 2018
2 Comments

broken lives


shadows ebb and flow
controlled by lights artificial and real
coming and going like clockwork
extending a helping hand
providing glimmers of hope to broken lives
methodically digging their own back door

imprisoned from within
their beauty is dying to be seen
hidden gems in fields of isolation
learning to bud and blossom
nurtured by mighty mother nature herself
sheltered from outsiders and themselves




september two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , ,
01 Sep 2018
5 Comments

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

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , ,

Post Navigation

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →