jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “poem”

a radical change of pace


we keep the doors locked
when at home
and unlocked when gone
seems like the most reasonable
thing to do

most of the neighbors
have been replaced
—since we never talked to the old ones
[in the first place]
we’re not speaking
to the new

it’s like we’re living
inside a hitchcock movie
strangers viewable
through their rear windows
training birds of prey
right there
in broad daylight
the ones without feathers
probably drones





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

a child again


front door opens
an ornamental carving
made of oak painted barn red
stained glass eyes
cloudy & invariably blue
welcoming

once inside
curtains rise & drapes open
gardens & courtyards
and disappearing slides
a library above
a darkroom below
little people handing out tickets
to the mystery show

there’s no turning back now
you take a ticket
slip it into your pocket vest
and take your place in line
as if a child again





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

The Art of War


Once the weather radio started freaking out
all things went to hell in a handbasket

There’s one thing I know about the climate
it’s always in a constant state of flux

After the storms passed we counted
the damages on ledger paper
one for physical
two for mental
and three for extraterrestrial

The mess is becoming a bigger mess
mother nature at war with herself
randomly precise & indiscriminate
hitting targets from any & all directions
whether in the air
or on land
or at sea





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

otherwise you’d still be alive today


I thought I had something
but when I looked back
nothing was there

how do you keep yourself
together
when we all know
what happens in the end

the story can be anything
you want it to be
as long as you’re open
to interpretation

building confidence
is the hardest part
it takes time & patience
rare traits for brilliant minds

now trust is another matter
altogether

you never should have
told me your plan
otherwise you’d still
be alive today

maybe





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

Séance


I could have sworn
that I’d already started
germinating ideas
[as if I was
three years old again]
that my decrees
made perfect sense
especially the dancing parts

It’s true you left me
to my own devices
but I worked them magically
bringing back poetry
I’d written in a prior life
pleading for you to listen
to make an appearance
either in body
or in spirit





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

the days I lived alone


I am trapped inside this house
a house without mirrors
all of them stolen
by mice & men

here I am left to own devices
setting traps
& replaying forty-fives
with the volume on high
as I attempt to wipe away
all the evidence
all the blood
from the bathroom
& the kitchen
and down below
where the furnace roars

I don’t really live here
anymore
it seems the mice
have taken over
a transitional situation
to say the least





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

mental illness is not a recent phenomenon


he sits and/or stands
in his underground laboratory
some days dressed in black
other days white
[but never gray]
multi-tasking like only
a well-focused madman can do

according to fact checkers
he had three internet connections
and two 3D printers
one making weapons of mass
destruction
the other spitting out instructions
on how to make friends





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

out of control


love can blindside you
forcing you to lose control
sometimes hitting hard
like a car accident
often flickering like a light
gaining strength
minute by minute
slowly burning into a torch
at last settling into a
constant glow

yesterday the fire
suddenly ceased to be
the rampant love fully evolved
into something
incomprehensible
sinking below & hovering above
neither physically present
nor otherworldly
perhaps temporarily
someplace in between





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

Antique accent table


Wayne had a cocaine habit
and somehow dragged me into it

Otherwise he was a great guy
helped us buy our first house
by sweet talking
my grandmother-in-law
into lending us five grand
towards the down payment

And then there was the time
the furnace went out
and we all piled into his Volvo
so we could crash for the night
in his basement

Cash flow was always tight
back then
and so my generosity
but for some reason he made
perfect sense why I should lend him
one-fifty for a few days

That seemed like a century ago
and I never did
get the money back
but at least he had the decency
to let me walk through his house
and take home anything
of my choosing





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

come on & kick me


it’s none of my business
about your hash pipe
I wasn’t the one to bring it up
in the first place

back in the day
we’d buy paraphernalia
when shopping for vinyls
mainly at the brady street shop
a block away from central high

[I seem to keep missing all the re-
unions even though I still live here]

next time you’re inside
two hundred miles
shoot me a telepathic note
& I’ll respond pronto
with yet another clue





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

song of the dead


the complete destruction
of the inner self
man-made annihilation of the
third kind
on the verge of reinvention
of inner thought
of stillness & water & ash
a private practice
a near death experience





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

the comeback


it’s the bottom of the eighth
and the home team
is down by one
the partial crowd
infused by fake news & alcohol
refuses to deny
that back-to-back homers
will send them into delirium





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

give me your tired


appearances
how deceiving they may be
like the statue of liberty
standing in the harbor
holding back tears
all these turbulent years
shouldering injustices
handed down
from generation
to generation
ad nauseum

standing at the crossroads
where does she go
from here





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

miracle of a blue moon


a sad moon waits
in the wings
the sinking sun
dissolving into
the black sea
— a passing of the torch
or the transitioning of power
from the mighty
to the mysterious
the latter making
men weep
women amassing
on the eastern horizon
bearing absolution





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

thoughts between alien invasions


they keep changing the rules
from ten thousand steps
to seven
eight hours of sleep
perhaps not the magic number


when I turned thirteen
I had a five speed road bike
& a brand new baseball glove
autographed by Willie Davis
          [back then]
every now & again
I’d calculate how old I’d be
come the year two thousand

I’m not going to lie
things never got much better since
too many cars & not enough
bike lanes
          where I live

I keep telling myself
things will get better
that my sports teams will once again
rise to the top
& all the evil empires of the world
will magically evaporate





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

hitching a ride out of the war zone


the television is too loud
and the radio plays softly
the ambient air
cooler than it needs to be

the clouds are low
puffy like pink elephants
roaming the skies
in search of a little drink
or a romp in a puddle of mud

all the noise from the inside
evaporates in a heartbeat
courtesy of a smart bomb
delivered from the far side

caravans become as common
as the latest virus
instinctively searching
for clear skies
like wolves or jackals
or hyenas would do





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

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