Tag Archives: poems

Come nightfall

July 28, 2017poetrydarkness, poems, poetry, starsadamjasonp

Come nightfall
The stars shine with a luster
dimmed by distance
telling
of an open sky
and beyond
ancient history

It reminds me
of others
in the fog of memory
who’d seen stars before
and their drive to reach
and go
Grow

I know
they are all far away
So far
the sky appears flat
until the moon catches my eyes
with its awe-inspiring sight, and light
Before the darkness returns again

The above photos is, unfortunately, the best the iPhone camera can do as far as capturing the starry night, Wednesday. It’s also the best I can do as far as polishing the poem for now, lol.

In other things, there will be a total eclipse of the sun on August 21 across all of North America… Have a good Friday!

Once fond

October 30, 2016poetryFall, photography, poemsadamjasonp

Once fond
of the forest
in full bloom,
She becomes
almost unrecognizable
in the fall.

Beyond the Clouds

October 17, 2016poetrypoems, writingadamjasonp

Soon,
it was fairly clear:
he did not connect.
He had strayed too far.
His head, out in space,
beyond the clouds,
his furthest
away.

His toxic aloneness
enticed him to “see”
his ideas in motion.
But nothing moved
too far, as he spun.
He burned out big
again, the tired
man of plants.

He was alone
with his pride,
his knowing,
his missteps,
his complex
turning blue,
his mission,
his finale.

(Inspired by the film Approaching the Unknown, starring Mark Strong.)

Surviving Winter

March 3, 2015poetryGogyohka, life, photography, photos, poems, poetry, small trees, survival, weather, Winter, writingadamjasonp

In the effort of
exercise
I shovel
to the back of
the house

Along the path
I find
a drooping tree
surviving
in the snow

In the effort of
relieving pressure
I shovel
off the back of
this tree

Fruitless
my efforts
I used my hands
but it would not
stand upright

It is amazing
how plants
weather
the seasons
for generations

This is my attempt at the Gogyohka form, explained in the previous post.
You’re welcome to try this form yourself.

what appreciation meant.

February 15, 2015poetry, writingappreciation, desire, poems, poetry, sensuality, writingadamjasonp

So warm,
your skin,
your embrace,
I desire.

So intoxicating,
your taste,
your presence,
I admire.

So deep,
your contact;
your eyes;
I aspire.

Ever so slowly,
we caressed,
capturing the scents,
never fully knowing

what appreciation meant.

Where the truth hurts

February 12, 2015exposure, poetryheart, poems, poetry, speed-writing, writingadamjasonp

Hadn’t I
turned out this way,
in a heartbeat I would,
as far as I could.
But no further
do the chips land in my favor.
No matter
the chips’ addictive flavor,
as I bend unwritten rules
to fulfill a moment.

The more you speak,
the more you sound
ideal; your words I allow to feel.
But I know.
I hold
to the truth, so far,
and my heart on a leash.
It is there, by itself.
Where the truth hurts.

Long, Ensue

February 12, 2015exposure, poetry, writinglife, poems, poetry, sadness, speed-writing, writingadamjasonp

it’s times like these, I long, and ensue
and push as deep as my well can go
until the ugly fear stifles my word
breaks my courage in two

If I’d a million, as some say
suppose it’d solve my day
suppose it’d cure my ills
suppose my insecurity would fall away

but nothing can cure what I am
sometimes the world just is
as cold as ice
even when it’s soft as snow

my heart yearns so much so
sometimes
I believe
but it cannot grow

Good dreams are better

February 11, 2015poetry, prosedreams, micropoetry, poems, poetry, writingadamjasonp

good dreams are better than good tweets

like the one i just had
messages after a video game
advances,
places you somehow got past in childhood
like someone who’s deceased telling you
what you need to hear
whispers in the wind

I squeeze the blood out of life alone.

February 5, 2015exposure, poetry, Uncategorized, writinglife, poems, poetry, soul, wistful, writingadamjasonp

Once effort falls,
So does the reward.
Lazily,
I hold my breath, but
My tongue moves without better judgment.
The practice shifts,
So the living drifts.
Careless,
I befell to the joke again.

Prey to play,
The wistful fool puts strangers on a growing pedestal.
But for some strange reason, I attracted
Beauty like never before.
She crossed my path,
But no more
Longer than a score of moons.

As days pass, I attempt to light the path
Of wayward lines
Without smudging.
So used to fighting the way,
An admitted coward,
I squeeze the blood out of life alone.
Failing to fail gracefully,
The errant child blames humanity.

My soul is all that’s left.
I found myself
Eight months ago,
Hungry,
Inspired.
Lest a return of the grandeur.
The sweet delusion
Teases without warrant,
Routinely returns nothing in favor.

Should my work pass as art?
Holding close
To self-defined rules and standards,
Catching
Terms never heard before;
These days
My words live
In a realm of free expression
Within the boundaries of a soulless confine.