jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

a picture paints a thousand words


a thousand words I wrote
yet your image remained elusive

I refused to believe
that you were gone forever
so I wrote another thousand words

unable to conjure
the essence that is you
I put down the pen
and picked up the brush

having cleared the canvas
I painted feverishly
rain like tears streaming
streaking across window pane
forever shrouding
your youthful innocence




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

withdrawing to past places


drug deals come and go
and whether they’re legal or not
hasn’t ever seemed to matter to the
general population or big pharma

we used to think we could handle
just about anything
[be it cooked artificially
or arriving naturally]
only later did we realize
what hurts the most
can’t possibly be remedied
without assistance from the
power of the mind

and so that gets us back
why we started in the first place
experimenting without reason
attempting to get back to a place
existing before the written word
before the world had no boundaries




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

bye bye american pie


where did all the songs go
the ones once playing in my head
when I needed them most

paused without incidence
abruptly held hostage in the cloud
silenced at gunpoint

the day the music died
sadly becoming a daily occurence
offline and in the streets

I’ve practiced enough drills
to last a second or third lifetime
yet somehow the songs
never seem to make it out alive




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

assuming a lesser role


I’m in your movie
perfectly still by a window
shadow like a black bird’s

you feed me my lines
spoonfuls of revolutions
followed by pregnant pause

everywhere people are hungry
overdosing on knowledge
breathing shallowly

and here I remain on the edge
plucking old traditions
and creating new rituals

I usher in the next morning
stretching my wings
and singing higher than an angel
just as you had written




september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

let’s go get lost in area fifty-one


tank is full and bags are packed
cases of water and beer and snacks
crammed inside the trunk
red hot chili peppers’ road trippin’
auto-repeating in the rear speakers

it’s over fifteen hundred miles
to nye county nevada
and according to google maps
we’re destined to arrive there
a day or two before the twentieth




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

who’s going to make the pizza crust when I’m gone


whenever you think or dream of me
remember my promise of being with you
whether obviously or in some mysterious way

I’m reminded of many a farewell song
forever streaming in endless space
omnipresent like the buttons on your blouse

I am sewn into your inner and outer fabric
like a reversible jacket draped over a chair
or hanging neatly in the hallway closet

whenever you take a step remember I am there
bending at the knee and looking upward
at all the stars in the midnight sky




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

maybe 55 minutes at 375°


everything is late this year
spring and summer and expectant fall
tomatoes in the garden expanding
like waxing gibbous moons
healthy and reluctantly green

oscillating fan is bound to work
overtime now that school is in session
wardrobe becoming wide and varied
like these unpredictable days

yes we’ve been here aplenty
but never are we prepared
for the inevitable unexpected
whether disguised
as business as usual
or surprise apple pie in the oven




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

reasons to stay


how far back can you go
sparked by poetry or song
time seemingly at a standstill
current situation suddenly
becoming secondary in nature

the answer is limited only by
imaginary boundaries
preset and meant to be broken
continually experimenting
for the ultimate good

do not worry of past places
you’ve not yet visited
for they’re been inside you
since the beginning of time
predestined to be relived




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

conversations kill


with the opening and closing
of so many doors
you see him and you don’t
like a houdini or apparition
like a mouse that got away
or one out of a thousand
helium balloons

sometimes he hangs out
for hours on end
whether you like it or not
time passing by with nary a word

you say it’s getting late
or hey I’ve got to get to work
but feel free to stick around
and by all means help yourself
mi casa es tu casa

by the time I get back
he’s nowhere to be found
no note and nothing taken
just a strange feeling
that sooner or later I’ll want him back
maybe after a beer or two




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

and yet I find


the wind hides beneath a rock
waiting to show itself
at the least expected time
frightening the masses
and benefiting a precious few

some say it’s a random act
[of god] repeating itself
from one generation to the next
progressively more destructive
further tidaling the waves
exacerbating the fire
wickedly twisting a new kind of
madness out of thin air

rewind and fall further behind
delving deep inside the wood
collecting mushrooms
and turning over rocks
examining and wondering
how one in a million will unleash
the next counterrevolution




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

beautiful like you


it has nothing to do with reflections
in the mirror or the stillness
at the water’s edge
the day’s sunshine nearly even
with the horizon
casting her unpredictable light
every which way
as if trying to be recognized
for the very last time

as always you are attracted
to the light in your eyes
alive like the butterfly
recently released above a field
of burgeoning sunflowers




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I wouldn’t change a thing


I’ve no story to tell only a poem to share
borrowed from a friend of a friend
a past reminiscence
from a long ago saturday night

it was a moonless sky
no stars and no promises
only a bloodless pact
designed to make you immortal

I should have known or maybe I did
the light in your eyes
was different than all the rest
fragile like existence itself




august two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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