jdubqca

poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “war”

I’ve got a little boat and she’s seaworthy


somehow I continue to live here
expansive and dangerous
stretching from ocean to ocean
long after the continents
lost its interconnectedness

we make music out of trees
and jewelry out of oysters
how is it we can’t make peace
out of the most basic tenets
all religions seem to practice

elections and appointments
aren’t working any better
than heritage or privilege
ordinary people standing up
and speaking out perilously

change is at hand and the end
is near continue to play out
like a broken historical record
replaying sunday hangings
and friday crucifixions




september 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

white flag


she’s in my head now
[how can she not be]
having gone off to war
without saying goodbye

she’s off to change the world
oh how I want to tell her
[but never will I speak]
how there’s nothing
left to change
only pieces to be moved

lately I’ve been dreaming
of tanks and bombs and drones
awakening my bones like clockwork
[in the year nineteen ninety-one]
waving a white flag
and bringing her back home




june two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

black hole earth


third world angels wrap themselves
around the loneliest of children
god ever placed on earth

they amble these ancient streets
and back alleys virtually unseen
admiring the crumbling architecture
as the children somehow fall fast asleep
jet fighters crisscrossing the frozen skies
reminding everyone that this time
nothing will be different

come daybreak birds sing and angels weep
opening their wings and knowing
in a naturally universal way
that this place in time
will be neither the first nor the last





april two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

cease fire


who shall we condemn today
and who shall we elevate
picking and choosing
like gods openly playing favorites

how many times must we surrender
until peace reigns on earth
and how many times must our
hearts be tested before
proving our intentions are true

and those gods who willfully
come and go at their leisure
who’s to say they’re not the ones
continually adding fuel to the fire





march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

like wars fought near and far


I’ve been practicing my lines
sometimes while drinking
other times in my sleep
saying them out loud when
nobody’s around
whispering them under my
breath at check out lines or
while idling at red lights

though the world is dying
the coming winter should
slow the process down
allowing for pause
and consideration
whether well rehearsed lines
(like wars fought near and far)
actually require repeating




october two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

no time for baseball


it’s the bottom of the ninth
and nobody’s keeping score
and though the lights are on
the stadium is nearly empty

in the comfort of my own home
I can’t reach the game on am radio
instead switch to fm and listen to
jimi hendrix covering bob dylan

early morning news feed arrives
bold headlines scream no-hitter
followed by abbreviated stories
regurgitating tales of mass destruction

weatherman breaks in unannounced
low lying fog chemically unbalanced
possibly canceling the school day
if not the entire baseball season




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

tip-toeing


opposition forces positioned themselves
in the most peculiar way
so much so nobody seemed to notice
exactly who they were
or what they were doing

last fall foot soldiers were ordered to plant
thousands of tulip bulbs in the minefields
but not all that went in came back alive
and the ones who did rested uncomfortably
for the rest of their lives

by the time spring solstice arrived
the enemy had mysteriously withdrawn
and all the local children awakened with smiles
welcoming the newly risen sun
proceeding to run cautiously
through her once glorious meadows




april two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

counting down the days


after the invasion we stopped lighting candles
instead looked to the stars for answers

the children were best at hide-and-go seek
despite the risk of never being seen again

days of routine left us long after the last train
and now what remains is this suffocating reality
where dreams and nightmares are but one in the same

there are no more rivers to cross or towns to destroy
no more ghosts to disperse or spirits to dispel
no more lessons to be learned
no more ransoms to be paid
no more saviors to be born
no more lives to be saved




march two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

taken to a nearby hospital


the city was on fire
and I was like a lost lamb
roaming past identical houses
hoping the next turn opens up
to a countryside I once knew by heart

they say the nightlife is the best here
where the most beautiful people gathered
to forget the past

but then it was gone in a flash
like a trick of the mind
there you see it
there you don’t
limbs gyrating like an egyptian
eyes mesmerized
believing just about anything

there was a man with a staff
crying out in the city center
where the river divided the land
and though I was perfectly lost
I heard him clearly above the
sirens and screams and
deadly detonations



january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

how I am drawn to you


the town is vacant
abandoned by war
can you feel me
trembling with fear

the moon is afire
and the field is aglow
can you see me
chasing the wind

the bridge is out
and the river is frozen
can you hear me
calling your name

the border is near
attracting me closer
your arms reach out
unbelievably we embrace



december two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

peeking around the next corner


it seems like everyone is hell bent on
picking a fight
but by everyone I don’t mean you or me

sometimes I want you to make me think
and other times I don’t

I’m not sure which is worse
pretending the white elephant
isn’t actually pink
or acknowledging all is fair
in lust and taxation

I didn’t come here looking
for a fight
and neither did you
so I keep on convincing myself
that’s what keeps us separated
from whatever it is
that’s hurting



november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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