jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

triangulation


still a middlegame
I start dancing with my king
performing a traditional triangulation
much to the chagrin of the opposing side

I lean across the board
you instinctively light my fire
leaning back I exercise my lungs
wondering when you’ll make the next move





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

cannabis


I have morphed
into something new
effectively ending
my identity crisis

what prayer
will you say for me
—what item of mine
will remain
in your pocket

I have lasted longer
than you could
have imagined
and now that I am
somebody new
will you notice
[as I walk on by]
all the nuances
bestowed upon me





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pretending not to be


inside the garden
the wicked garden
tempted as always
taking & giving
as if you’re some sort of
sun god

life is apple pie
dutch apple pie please
a dollop
of vanilla ice cream
a spoon or a fork
it’s your choice

where you may roam
roaming in the wet grass
matters nothing
to anyone
except your own
beautiful self





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

if I could wish it all away


there’s no sense in testing the water
it’s the same as it’s ever been

every wednesday morning at nine
the city tests the loudspeaker system

one day it’ll prove itself to be futile
or utile —it’s funny how only time will tell

lenny kravitz sings about getting away
I tap my foot & chime in right out loud

replacing his simple words with mine
as if I’m some sort of ad lib junkie

knowing I’ve not a say in the matter
nor interested in wishing it all away





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

ideas


where do you get your ideas
she once asked me

I didn’t know what to say
so I said nothing

once again she asked
where do you get your ideas

finally I answered
from you my dear
and everything that encircles you





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

ten most wanted


halloween is over but the visiting vampires remain
having quit giving interviews and resuming
their solitary lives inside the mother-in-law suite

she seems not to have been seen for weeks now
but they claim she moved out voluntarily
having been inspired by the uninvited intruders

at first she thought they were incorrigible angels
(which of course was an innocent mistake)
or so she was quoted as saying by the authorities





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

an unlikely analog


I am not what I seem
a broken clock on a shelf
stuck at 11:19 and 19 seconds

it matters not if it’s morning
or night
the broken do not know
the difference
and if they tell you that they do
they are liars

when time abruptly stood still
I learned to walk about
without having to use my legs
spending hours inside the cathedral
deciding which station
I loved the best
and hated the most

[impossible
I would tell myself
for without time
there can be no hours]

I once believed they were
angels
communicating with me
in a language of vibrations
one I learned to comprehend
all on my own

but now
I am not so sure





november two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

fragmentation


it’s what we can’t see that scares us the most
three purple aliens hovering at the door
the little one rings the bell

not everyone likes Peyton Manning
would more than likely hit the mute button
or not hand out candy on a cold & rainy night

the baseball game is postponed
for obvious reasons
a higher power undoubtedly in on the action

[it being] the car crash that killed the driver
in the early morning hours
not to mention a few dead fawns
and a number of squirrels

chili is warming on the stovetop
there’s something mysterious in the wi-fi
—the doorbell rings again





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

a masterful counterattack


the software was counterintuitive
a sad display of artificial intelligence
incapable of solving the woes of humanity

I tinkered with it by introducing a new code
like inserting a special character into a dream
hoping of preventing the man from dying

but the man never awoke
and the original code consumed
that which sought to destroy death





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

dead on a sunday morning


yes I get the point
where I don’t exist anymore
and time moves on
whatever that means

there are so many moons
yet to discover
hopping & skipping
from one to the next
as if I’m a kid again

living & breathing
outside of the fish bowl
one-way ticket
taking me to places
unimaginable





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

The Next Pilgrimage


They come from out of this world
defying the very stars that sent them
hurtling through space & time
a heatseeker homing in on sheet of ice

Having reached the top of the world
that which was magically aslumber
suddenly becomes the hottest place to be
—in a flash a brand new ground zero

From all corners the people soon follow





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

underestimation


I’m a songbird
without a song
whispering sweet
nothings

there is sadness
in the silence
this much I know

I’m a songbird
without a song
listening for a clue
on a windless night

but there is only sadness
in the silence
this much I know

I’m a songbird
without a song
underestimated
and determined

turning sadness
into a melody
this much I know

practicing wetting
my whistle
until the morning light





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

stumping for no good reason


no arms       no legs
I’ve become even more
animated than I
ever was with them
—lecturing & reciting
separating fact from fiction
[& occasionally portending]
passing along good
news w/the bad
—eyes in the crowd agaze
transfixed in ways
causing me to ponder
what good
may I possibly be doing





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

kicked on down the road


I’ve been failing at making
up words
keeping my pursuit of achievement
in good working order

I’ve been at it a few weeks now
talking to myself whilst
walking
(re)cycling
sitting in the dark
giving up multiple vices
and beckoning the god
of the spoken word
the god of voice

instead of adding to the pot
I’ve been losing
consonants
mainly by changing them to vowels
rearranging for no other reason
than to amuse myself
—kicking them down the road
like a tin can
or an igneous rock

it’s been like a whirlwind
inside my makeshift laboratory
letters on magnets
flying through the air
splatting onto anything metal





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

on this once chromatic planet


the sun is mine again
having wrestled it back
from faceless thieves
who had robbed me at gunpoint
along the lonely road to redemption


they carried with them
countless possessions
items undoubtedly dug up
on moonlit nights
from fields where lilies & poppies
flourish exponentially

no longer traveling alone
my companion is my guide
taking me to places
unimaginable
a journey free from the absurdities
of an all too fleeting life
on this once chromatic planet





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

internal prisoner [of war]


I’ve not yet started living
having been bogged down
in a dissident quagmire
wishing incessantly to be
drugged & tortured
by a make-believe enemy

[instead I am held
against my will
charged w/imaginary crimes
against humanity]

again I plea
I’ve not engaged in any sort
of alleged insanity
—and if you would be so kind
to free me from these chains
I will set out on foot
with neither contraband
nor weaponry
in a direction opposite
from my mother’s love
with nary a thought
to kill again





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

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