jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

radio edit


I was in the garage fixing the radio
when charlie came in
cigarette and beer in hand
wearing wrangler blue jeans
and a sleeveless tee

what in the hell are you doing neighbor
he asked

I told him I was fixing the radio
(the one with the reddish-orange digital display
that usually hangs underneath the kitchen cabinet
the kind you have to use a pen or pencil
to advance the time of day)

he took a peek at me soldering the
red wire to the circuit board
was careful to blow his smoke
out toward the street

as I screwed the cover back on
he asked what in the hell I needed a
radio for this day and age
you know with the internet and pandora
or some such shit

to listen to the dead but of course
is how I answered
and I picked up my radio and excused myself


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

disciples of the stream


the stream imagines
whatever lies inside the mind
projects audial nuances
favorable to the heart and soul

the stream has babbled on
since before babylonia was born
before the seeds of creation
transfigured into the living garden

the stream provides sustenance
and everlasting grace
offering those who worship her
glimpses of alpha and omega


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

acquiescence


if only I had freed my mind
from the fatal threat
I would have cleared the board
of thoughtlessness
instead of surrendering
to acquiescence


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

dreaming for peace


in the dream
a dark cloud follows overhead
like a skeptical stray cat
neither threatening nor kind
unbiased and nearly lifeless

far beyond
stars form stellar pyramids
with eye-shaped apertures
blinking a visual morse code
only warlords understand

in the dream
martin luther king preaches
to a desperate generation
promising harmony and hope
where there is only despair

far beyond
star factories push the limits
within a universe pulling back
brushing aside dark clouds
and bringing change on earth


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Infantry


He was born with a suicide pack
strapped around his waist
not too far from where Jesus the prophet died
nor too far from where the once trendiest cafe in town
is now a basketball court

Through the age of seven he pleased Allah
by wearing the gift with pride
fully understanding his duty
was more powerful
than his circumcised phallus

As the eventual light self-destructed
into angelic chaos of heavenly proportions
he leapt into the next dimension
and into the arms
of seventy-two virgins


august two thousand thirteen
original version october two thousand seven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

highway survivor


there are no lawyers here
so there is no one
to call or point fingers at

I’m just sitting here on the
highway’s shoulder
figuring out my next move

I see everything at once
and without even trying
I’m getting quite used to it

the wreck across the way
is mine but it’s been
five or ten or fifty years ago

sure seems like yesterday

I keep thinking maybe one day
I might branch out
and try my hand at haunting


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

waiting for the sun


born into the dark ages
the children loved to listen
to the chronicles of the sun
rising above the hills and
making everything on earth
supernaturally magical



august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a simple tweet


we walked hand
in hand
throughout the centuries
seeking treasures
along the shoreline
wondering what lies
beyond the faintest star


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the time eraser


fleet of foot
and quite aloof
the time eraser
runs in the background
as quiet as a ghost

as mistakes
accumulate
the time eraser
springs into action
restoring sanity

troubles fade
thoughts unravel
the time eraser
intravenously
injecting new cocktails


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

from the newsroom archives


born into a disconnected world
thousands of years back or forwards
angry young men
count using hands and feet
and algorithms buried
beneath the rubble

without warning there is no danger
there are only unexplained explosions
breathing new life
into a universe dying to attract
everything that is beautiful
inside a perfect circle


august two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

come here boy


the bichon is on to something
he knows better
about going outside
where the dangers have crept
from the country to the city
over a period of
less than a dog’s life

chester didn’t used to be this way
but the latest barrage
of borrowed artillery
has taken its toll on his fragility
has left him second guessing
every single move he’s made
since he was a baby


july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

games children play


I listened for the past
but found only this noisy place
littered with half-drunken moments
and thunderstorms
so boisterous
we were forced to hide
under the bed with earbuds
and electronic coloring books

I listened for the past
turned knobs on an etch-a-sketch
producing a frequency
revisiting
black light images
dissolving into channels
of jagged lines weaving baskets
and a cat’s cradle

I listened for the past
by focusing on a spirit
reassuredly haunting and
beautifully
invisible
hiding behind the maple
waiting for the oxen to be called
to free her people



july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

before the winds do


I thought I heard something
but it was just the wind
I think she said
sitting in the living room

I perked up and turned down
the baseball on TV
started to listen in
like one of those creeps

repetitive silence ensued
followed by curious winds
sneaking in
through the attic vents

rushing in I reached out
begging her to take
my hand
before the winds do





july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

going underground


ants are everywhere
and most of them are downright
industrious

then there’s the spiders
and snakes and whatever nature
wants to sally forth populating this place

ground squirrels moved in
last week
little sons a bitches

neighbor says he’s got a
groundhog
living up there
behind them bushes

wolves and foxes make for
scary noises
beyond the border trees at night

or maybe it’s just two cats without gloves
settling an old match
or better yet
an adolescent sasquatch
out looking for a snack

beneath all the commotion
subhumans thrive at
twenty-four seven bazaars
peddling flashlights and canteens
and cuban cigars
dark chocolate squares
and high-powered rifles





july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

godspeed to anarchy


they sat around the fire pit
on a saturday
downing amber ale
and getting high on sticky weed

midsummer stories ensued
as evening turned into night
and off in the distance
a freight train chugged along the river
slightly shaking the ground
and slowly picking up speed
past the corn sweetener plant

bottles were raised
and toasts were made
to hobos and train hopping
followed by wild ass guesses
as to the whereabouts
of their long lost buddy
who so many years ago
chose the obscure lifestyle
of a punk rock anarchist



july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

obsession


when you love something
so deeply
that you cannot live without
and the primitive nature inside you
supersedes the laws
of logistics and morality
take notice
for your best laid plans
in conquering your desires
may unwittingly leave you choiceless
and as baseless as the next man


july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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