jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “secrets”

01 Dec 2023
5 Comments

in case of death


there I was born again
a total wreck
drenched
having just squeezed
out of the fish bowl

in the bedroom
in the lockbox
—in the second drawer
of the secretary desk
[among other things]
a sealed envelope
labeled in case of death

the things people don’t know about
existing in the dark

the things some people inherit

but the way things seem to go around here
it won’t take long
before the seal is broken
once again





december two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
25 Oct 2020

any given sunday


they say it’s in the air
I keep breathing everything in
sometimes to a fault

there’s plenty of space
it’s mostly knowing where to go
on any given sunday

I’ll tell you all my secrets
when the present time stands still
then you can tell me yours




october two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
30 May 2017

answers inside secrets


there is sadness in the air like a shushing stream
fearing her secrets become lost to the surface

but alas all is not gone
(oh no!) all is not worn for the worse
all is not as callous and cold as it seems

your physical world does not shake me as much
as you think it does dear satan
despite what my rattlesnake boots may say

it’s my stream of consciousness I rely upon
whether awake or asleep
(or forever gone)
reminding me to never confuse
experience with wisdom



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , | Leave a comment
19 May 2016
2 Comments

the ones that got away


there is privacy in certain thoughts
the ones that seldom escape
meant to be shared only with those
who have long ago moved on

street lamps shine on cobbled stones
the ones discovered beneath streets
crumbled by time and coming to life
sprouting the prettiest of flowers

evening fades to children chasing
fireflies moving in distinct directions
fleeting moments shortly relived
perhaps released to the heavens

sometimes I nudge them begrudgingly
those innermost secretive thoughts
letting them know I am still alive
and protecting them the best I can


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,
27 Oct 2013
7 Comments

some things we don’t talk about


there are certain things I’ll take to the grave
I said as I raised my half-filled glass
trying to figure out
if it was half full before
transferring the past down my throat

to the grave the patrons chanted
swallowing what remained of their
bottomless dreams
contented by the friendship of
lonely people
unbothered by next month’s bills

morning arrives without a demon in sight
the truth temporarily impaired
allowing me to get on with it
as they say
and forget all over again
those things going to the grave


october two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Dreams, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , ,
16 Mar 2013
1 Comment

cheers to the minor league siren


it was a sunday afternoon
and me and my gal sat at the bar
tipping pabst blue ribbons
while across the street
the crowd gathered into the stadium
for a doubleheader matinée

the flat screens hanging on the walls
aired most of the afternoon games
the sound muted by the country music
streaming from the jukebox

look my gal said pointing at one of the games
templeton is pitching for saint louis
i used to let him screw me you know

he played across the street
when he was just a baby she said
and i took him under my wing
and taught him a thing or two

yeah right i said
you’re dreaming again
holding two fingers up across the bar

my ass holds secrets you cannot imagine
she said and then lifted her glass
just above her still seductive eyes
waiting for me to do the same



march two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Baseball, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
21 Dec 2011

Reading Between the Lines


Forgotten allusions
conjured at night
reappear when least expected
and make our lives
a little more interesting

like who we really are
or how we could be

Remembered dreams
either delight or haunt us
it is their inconsistency
and congruency
which lead us to accept
or pretend
not to live with them





nineteen ninety-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , , | Leave a comment
16 Dec 2011
2 Comments

Lie to Me


The automatic garage door opens
Its overhead light merging
With the Audi headlamps
Pulling into the drive
Early Sunday morning.

The neighboring homes
Shuttered in darkness
Keep its occupants isolated
From the disturbance
Of mechanisms and motors
Nearly all long gone in deep sleep.

Upstairs, a mother and child
Turn their bodies in reaction
To creaks on the floor
Which subconsciously
Feeds their minds
With secrets and lies.



december, two thousand eleven
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Posted in Poetry and tagged , , ,

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