jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “syllabic”

doctors without sound barriers


this place is broken
tragically in disrepair
like a neglected heart with
various hairline fractures

it’s easy to smile
if only superficially
telling yourself and others
the sickness will somehow end

local physicians
become increasingly absent
sent off on unknown spacecraft
resurrecting those dying



may two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the tempest and the temptress


they torched the bridge again
in broad daylight
and everyone had a general
idea who did it
though nobody was talking

at the press conference the sheriff
flashed unfocused photos of
trolls with beards and billy goats
sporting handlebar mustaches

later in the evening
the moon appeared
like a spotlight on the city square
exposing shadows
creeping alongside buildings

pretending this can’t happen near you
you ignore all the warnings
chasing the tail of the storm
luring you back to london town



april two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

pacifying ancient waves


it’s getting late
midwinter
the cold more than snow
wearing on me
like the moon
weighs on the ocean

the gods tell me
life is long
but there’ll be no spring
so I accept
the premise
and shift my focus

southern sun sings
lullabies
shushing darkened clouds
transforming
extreme thoughts
into peaceful waves



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Little Bo Peep’s Awakening


She wore a cotton dress on a warm
and sunny day
slightly off-white and sleeveless
complementing and accentuating
her light brown skin

He wore his casual Sunday best
strolling along
white button-down oxford shirt
starkly contrasting pleated charcoal slacks
creased perfectly

Sitting on park bench imagining
her breathing slows
her inner thoughts pressing on
unaware of sights and sounds passing by
before her eyes

From out of the fold he reappears
like a lost lamb
wandering most aimlessly
a blot on the vastness of her dreamscape
off-black yet bright



november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

burning down the house


I saw two magpies
out in the field
the one where crickets
turn into monsters
and dream of feasting on
human history

I saw two magpies
out in the field
perched upon towers
man-made and alive
turning on the airwaves
and chatting freely

I saw two magpies
out in the field
pimped out for the show
in 3D glasses
marveling at the mirrors
reflecting the fire


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the first order of the second kind


abstract thoughts often lead
to concrete ideas
like barefoot ghost monks
chanting along crushed limestone

hundreds march in the woods
single file along
skyscraper-like trees
bending and moaning and hurt

pink skies become cloudy
marshmallow bruises
falling to the ground
covering all things living

ghost monks become crickets
beating back the dead
chanting toward a light
giving breath a second chance


july two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the next chapter


you never know when you’re going
to get that call
lifting you off the ground
and forcing you to your knees

you rehearsed it inside your head
so many times
but none of that matters
since you’ve become paralyzed

it all begins on sacred ground
you tell yourself
your world picking up speed
rising to the occasion

underneath the surface you see
mere memories
sealed inside spacious box
sand blasted and pulverized


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

maybe someday maybe tomorrow


magnets inside bracelets
pressed against my skin
work their magic so I may
rise to the next occasion

ankles locked in shackles
keeping me grounded
green field of four-leaf clovers
shuffling to the dead man’s beat

sharpened sickle in one hand
club in the other
paving new ways for the man
hollering from the tower

locked inside precious dreams
all I do is count
day and night do not exist
prisoners of love move on


june two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

dreaming between the lull and the storm


there is deception in those eyes
seemingly innocent
but exposed
to a lifetime of atrocities

captured by the camera’s lens
they are frozen in time
and streamed live
to a world hopelessly paralyzed

relocated time and again
she hides her eyes and dreams
of the day
living with angels in paradise


may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

deathly viral


a sickness hangs around
undisturbed
sublime like the slender moon
infrequently bright
but destined to burst

silent cells work below
the surface
tunneling effectively
like eager termites
building a kingdom

monitors intersect
the chatter
faint but riding the airwaves
like a vampire bat
preparing to strike

emerging past the shadows
bulging lights
expose the contagion
airborne and fatal
blighting whole cities


march two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

riding new waves


you run like the wind
void of thought
breathless
chasing spirits into
the fading light

on the other side
there are souls
in limbo
hoping to follow your
every command

turning on the light
nerves scatter
in waves
circling past prior lives
sailing your way


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

that lonesome road


repressed memories lay in shadows
begging to be found
along the side of the road
leading to a place called redemption

I was supposed to pick up the pieces
but I was busy
losing track of precious time
barreling down this lonesome highway

forgive me for my forgetfulness
those wildflowers found
in the middle of somewhere
were meant to bloom in your memory

this love I possess is eternal
quietly moves on
past tomorrow’s horizon
and beyond the roadway to the stars


october two thousand fifteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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