jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “Poetry”

An American blogger in Paris


I met this blogger
an American in Paris
living in paradise
(so we were lead to believe)
dishing out outrageous
autobiographical adventures
untold tales he liked to call them

And so along the way
having fallen in love with the
City of lights
he eagerly learned the language
and later
fell in love with Amélie

She brought him in
and all was good with the world
to the point where his
creativity waned
his numbers tumbling
until his online relevance
ceased to exist

as did Amélie




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

An unfamiliar scene


I attended Philip’s burial today in Maquoketa at the family plot
at the top of the hill in Sacred Heart Cemetery. It was a sunny
& warmish day but a cool wind atop the hill made my Mother
put on her shawl. I counted the number of people in attendance
using less than ten hands, most of whom I didn’t know from Adam
or would ever know. Before getting on with whatever life has in
store for me, I hugged two cousins & shook the hand of another.




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

trouble is coming


what’s the point in looking back
one day you believed in god
the next planting tulip bulbs
on a cold sunday morning

your daughter tells you
she talks to jesus
and you believe her like you
believed in the hanging man

there is whiskey on your breath
but it no longer has any effect
other than rewiring the circuits
inside your imagination network

trouble is always forthcoming
this much is self-evident
positioned cross-legged on the floor
you orate the next prophecy




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

spilled milk


sometimes I think we’re all
living within a dream
nothing earth shattering
yeah I get that
how someone inside you
shakes you at 6AM & says
“it’s time to dream again”
only problem is
nobody is actually there
[inside or out]
and you’re left singing
“don’t come crying to me”
all to yourself




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

internal bleeding


you can’t make this shit up
but then again you usually do

imitating the imaginary world
rotating all around

from top to bottom & side to side
leaving it like a pig sty

after saying she used to be
a paradise

when I see it
I’ll bloody fucking believe it

the inner workings eventually
have a mind of their own

and you’re forced to deal
with its consequences

becoming nothing more
than a ransom maker

the one who controls all
things mental & digital

who may very well be the last
virtual person

you’ll ever encounter




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

outside of the foothold


mushroom hunting & collecting
stones on a sunny
sunday morning

the river runs through this place
you can hear it from
a mile or so away
you can feel it in your veins
your eyes gradually
become clearer

the stones go in the satchel
the mushrooms
in a bucket
luckily either are easier to find
this time around

some of the trails have
started to fill in from lack of
human footsteps
this place slowly becoming
scarier than it seems




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

river crossing


highways & county roads & small towns
crisscrossing the landscape
no maps necessary
push in the clutch & shift into fifth
release & press the petal to the floor

interstate travel provides just rewards
whether legal or otherwise
one particular dispensary
open seven days a week
on the illinois side of the mississippi




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

now you see me now you don’t


I’ve heard so many strange stories of late
I don’t know what to make of things
I’ve retreated & decided to retest
my own sanity
results probably arriving in a day or two


I’ve been slowly losing my intelligence
mainly because I’ve been
left out of the loop
but I’m good with that
having lost the desire to be in the know

I’m working on new ways to engage
I only hope it’s not too late
it’s not as if I’m trying
to reinvent the proverbial wheel
as much as I’m trying to remain visible




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

this is not the last goodbye


for some reason I’m reminded
to never say never
to the doctor or priest or police officer
to never say
I no longer want you in my life

there is trouble in the alley
you can tell by listening
who do I call
who do I call
[who do I call]

there is no reason in these rhymes
there is only heartache
a bullet through the sternum
I’m feeling somewhat unnatural
a steel barrel scratching my skull
asking me questions
stupid questions
trick questions
questions I can’t possibly answer

it’s too late
oh no it’s never too late
never too late not to comply
to look up at the sky & say look
I can see myself there
never too late to say
‘adios mis amigos adios’





april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

before the month of may


the economy is opening
and prices are rising
gather yourself some flowers
and give them to your lover

never mind all the rules
let alone your own imaginations
running wildly hand in hand
chasing the new silvery moon




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

tripping on a wire


we’re going back to nature
cooking up our own microdoses
bringing our senses back to life

the city is finally far away
having left by way of high wire
after arriving looking up
to my old-time friends
teaching me to breathe (again)

there is much to be found
at eye level & on hands & knees
recipe in tow
& delicate ingredients
at my fingertips




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

step inside & see


laying down fiber
high speed generation
a thousand megabits per second
like hummingbird wings
a race between
the underground & the cloud
a pay-per-trip time machine
idling in the wings
won’t you step inside & see
how it all ends





april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Spectacle of the Century


April the quintessential Clown
a self-educated & pragmatic jokester
in demand to entertain Royalty
the nobility & commoners alike

No wisdom will be embarked upon
this cold & viciously unforgiving night
instead be prepared to die of laughter
as the Walls come crashing down




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

after the verdict


we’re doing something
different today
but you shouldn’t have
a problem with that

the city is already boiling over
and by nightfall
it won’t be safe at all

we’ve got no time
to board up the main floor windows
we’ll pack a bag
and take some valuables
and pray for our
eventual return

some say there is safety
in numbers
but this time
that’s the exact definition
to an exception to the rule




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

mass murder by the boathouse


angels behind the boathouse
trade dark secrets in the
middle of the day

they’ve dark hair & skin
auburn wings tucked in
called to this particular place
for reasons yet to be known

they wonder who is
calling the shots anymore
softly debating
how bad things need to get
before the apocalypse

waiting behind the boathouse
one question leads
to another
until there is nothing left
no lies or deceit or promises
just the beautiful truth
that they are here for a reason




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Morpheus’ Brothers


The clouds are filling up
with love & hate
compartmentalized into
an anti-organized hierarchy

They often collide at high speeds
making whole systems crash
sprinklers in the server room
turning on like an isolated shower

Saying you can’t really see the cloud
is simply ridiculous
just ask any kid
lying down face up in a meadow
pointing skyward & interpreting
keywords as fact & fiction animals
specifically designed by
Icelos & Phantasos themselves




april two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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