jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “Poetry”

a midsummer’s day swim


they left the door slightly ajar
so we inched a little closer
scooching our butts
on the concrete patio
carefully listening and learning
like little birds do

though no growling or barking
or panting could be heard
we came to understand
it was a dog day afternoon

conversations continued
but our comprehension faded
and the longer we sat
keeping cool by the crack
the further lost we became
in their indigenous sea




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

involuntarily off the grid


while two men and a woman
fix a flat somewhere near area 51
I wonder what will be the next stop
pancakes or mountainsides
or batteries plus

I’ve not been on a bus for decades
and I’m sure as hell ain’t gonna
get kicked off this one

there was a minor altercation
not that long ago
three unruly riders [most likely aliens]
unarmed but causing a ruckus
getting the worst of it by the acting sheriff
and his newly sworn deputies
a few miles shy of groom lake

there’s no signal out here
but I’m cautiously optimistic
that too will change
killing time playing sudoku offline
on my refurbished chromebook




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

making up words


lately I’ve been busy making up words
words without definitions
screaming and smiling at the same time
mouth forming an imperfect circle
inquisitive eyes looking my way
fingertips touching cheeks
unsure whether to laugh or cry

I got so loud they kicked us out
before my party even had a chance
to finish their drinks
but those who found humor
in my made-up words waved good-bye
talking amongst themselves
who or what on earth I could possibly be

I tell you now I could be just about anyone
your best friend or worst nightmare
but truth be told I’m here to stay
making up words without definitions
screaming them as I may
as long as my lungs will let me




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the damsel and her prince


let me dream like never before
cast into a strange accepting world
living and breathing effortlessly
neither on land nor in sea
rather somewhere in between

here there is no such thing
as rest or sleep or fantasy
always on the move like damselflies
flitting from flower to flower
kissing ghost-like amphibians




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the inevitable revolution


I’m sure I must declutter my space
before unburdening my mind

there are four walls closing in
I quickly turn my arms and legs
into a human X
soon enough finding myself
stopping them in their tracks

tenements are collapsing
thanks to mother earth
[and other powers that be]
displacing and relocating
those without resources
the redistribution of wealth
virtually unchanged

and what was once my property
no longer belongs to me
call it imminent domain
or call it voluntary
the revolution continues




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

boys like me


can you be held against your will
when you have no rights
caught in the crossfire of corporal
and psychological punishment
left for days in solitary confinement
preoccupied with thoughts of
licking wounds and unlocking cages

you’re supposed to be at the ballpark
but instead you’re back on the farm
picking up trash & pushing dreams
keeping your nose clean
just as you were told
but mostly concealing your shame
because that’s what boys like me do




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

three days on the road


the top is down
tom petty and del
my backseat companions
roses and irises freshly cut
buckled in the front seat

I’m bound to discover
how many revolutions per minute
my little four banger can go
at least high enough
to make my eyes well up

mile markers
look like little green crosses
for some reason
reminding me of missions
so many moons ago

highway sounds fluctuate
like those cumulus clouds
playing peek-a-boo with the sun
affecting the radio waves
and my erratic memories




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

trials and errors and tribulations


piece by piece I make myself
starting and stopping
and starting all over again
thinking one of these times
I will get it right

I see myself as a minor god
practicing mad science
relentlessly experimenting
creating new worlds out of thin air
and extinguishing them
for no good reason

one day I will give it all up
in exchange for something
I know nothing about
until then it’s back to business
that is remaking myself




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

a present day anomaly


I’m not in the mood for poetry
but lord knows the world is
calls for it at night
when little ones are sleeping
praying tomorrow
the sun will shine on those
who need it most

throughout the course
of human history
I’ve witnessed firsthand
only a thinly carved slice
and I try to convince myself
this lack of civility in most places
is simply an anomaly




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

fragile is the flower


I’m easily moved to tears
not because I’ve grown sentimental
over the course of time
but rather because
that’s the way I was made

I used to wonder
if I was the reason
my father showed disdain
for anything soft
be it a baby’s bottom or a butterfly
a geranium petal
or a genuine display of affection

of course such thoughts
no longer belong to me
having come to accept the terms
of my own philosophy
including how some of us
deny the fragility
of the human condition




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

make amends with you


an endless sky and sun so close
melting muscle into bone
stripping clothes from your back
surrendering to your natural self

you’ve taken to this task before
making amends with yourself
peeling one layer after another
sweeping dead skin into tin can

do not confuse the sun with fire
the latter of which burns man-made
objects to the ground
the other capable of recreating
your own ashes into something new




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

this never ending war


this never ending war
call it evolution of revolution
as predictable as time itself
spinning and orbiting
one object around another

robotic tin soldiers
advancing exponentially
mercurial eyes laser sharp
lethal like the very weapons
they wield on command

the course of human history
seemingly on autopilot
at odds with peacemakers
challenging old world warlords
brokering old deals with satan




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

green will always be your eyes


here we are back on the moon
like it was nineteen sixty-nine
year of the miracle mets

oh how I remember it well
my dear friend
staying up all night
fighting demons disguised
as russian cosmonauts

so many years later
I’m reminded in song
being with you girl
is like being stoned
a million miles from home

they say the sun is blue
when running free
on the dark side of the moon
where gravity loves company
and green will always be your eyes




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

I left my phone charging back home


my father grew up near the spoon river
[named after a fictional illinois town]
and only lately have I wondered
if as a boy he’d fish for channel cat there
something he loved to do in his retirement
at lock and dam 14 on the mississippi

here I stand hundreds of miles away
casting my line into the wapsipinicon
[named by the chippewa after aquatic
plants they called ‘swan potatoes’]
my eyes focused on the shiny spinner
my mind rewinding and fast forwarding

I’ve caught and released countless cat
this hot and humid july afternoon
summer sun finally muted by the treeline
a subtle reminder that despite the heat
relief will eventually come my way
as I retrace ten thousand steps back home




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the next great escape


I was lost in the city
maybe for the last time
having arrived weeks earlier
held captive in a rail car

how I managed to free myself
remains a mystery even to me

this place is different
with its extensive tunnel system
all leading to the bay
where the sun sets but never rises
and the moon is always near

although wary of friendlies
I find comfort with most strangers
especially those with sandwiches
in their pockets
and forgiveness in their eyes




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

lines of vision


for some reason
stitch and sew
repeats in my mind
like a child’s doll
eyes wide open
looking past
the lonely horizon

those loose ends
eventually tear open
momentarily
put back together
surgically restoring
lines of vision
and seamless smiles




july two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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