P-Of Youth (July 1998):
Of youth, it is such a time a time of love,
of life of exploring and such passions strong and new, each to be explored and often shared. First love, first kiss, first time alone with one you love and desire strongly..
To fly like eagles high, and never come down is the feel of youth, it comes but once and is often searched for once lost, for time creeps up and takes it away so quickly for time is a killer of us all, so enjoy the youth and explore the passions
while the time is now and love is in the air.
To caress you and love you deeply, to share
secret thoughts and hidden passions quite rare, to know you deeply, to touch you in ways only a lover can is paradise in all its forms.
Mike Adams
1998?
The joy of being young and full of promise, sadly some do not live up to those promises.
P-My Little One:
My little one, don't cry for I am there with you if not in body, then in spirit. For you are never far from my thoughts and my being, for when I brought you into the world I knew it was for the long haul, and I have never had reasons to regret that.
So please don't cry, but think of me here so far away but never far from you.
Mike Adams
1998
P-My Little Man:
Oh my little man, across the world you are, thou always close to me my little man, no matter where you go No matter how old you are, or how far you go you are always my lovely little man.
To remember you, and the memories we have shared the times we have had, to see you fresh from me in that hospital bed, oh what a site you were so small, hardly big you were, but you were mine.
The first we took you home to meet one and all, oh how they cooed and cahwed over you, but you were still mine and I yours, your mother, nothing can change that neither time or distance can erase it you my son, my baby, my love, my hopes, my dreams and joys.
To hear you talk for the first time, to see you crawl for the first time, to see you walk for the first time.
To change your diapers for the first time, god it stank, but I loved you then and now and I changed them for you.
The first time you went potty by yourself how I glowed and gleamed at how proud you were that day.
To ride that new trike or bike and more, opps how you fell but up you came, oh how my heart soared at how you grew, and now you are far away, but always close, in my heart and memories, in some scrap books and like as well, fading slowly, but memories fresh to me.
Love you son, come back to me one day.
Love Mom Written for a friend and her nine year old so far away.
Mike Adams
8 September 1998.
P-Native Women:
One Flaw In Native Women Native Women have strengths that amaze men.
They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy.
They smile when they want to scream.
They sing when they want to cry.
They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous.
They fight for what they believe in.
They stand up to injustice.
They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a better solution.
They go without so their family can have.
They love unconditionally.
They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards.
They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding.
Their hearts break when a friend dies.
They grieve at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.
They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart. Native Women come in all shapes, and sizes. They'll walk, run or ride on horse back far just to be with you, that is how much they care about you.
The heart of a Native woman is what makes the world keep turning.
They bring joy, hope and love.
They have compassion and ideas.
They give moral support to their family and friends. Native Women have vital things to say and everything to give.
HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN NATIVE WOMEN, IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.
Mike Adams
2005
Of Why I Cry:
Thou I am not sure why, when I see that wall of black stone, cut into the earth so green, I have to cry, thou I did not march in those battles long ago, I did survive the time, and wondered how long will it go on? So in my times today, I sit, and remember, my own days of service and still I think and wonder why I cry when I see the wall. I had no friend there, no buddies to remember and reflect on, but I do know I am glad that those I know, returned from that land far away, either service there or "visiting", or not having to go. So I sit here and cry, and wonder why, it affect me so, so in the end, when I meet my end, will anyone remember me so, to lay a wreath, a flower, a medal or letter. I do hope so, so in the end, what is a man but memories of things we did, of friends who remember us or us of them. So in the end, friendship is saying good bye to friends departed and remembering them and doing them justice for the time we spent with them. So I say this, Good bye, but not forgotten.
Mike Adams, 1996 (I use the word man as a neutral, not to designate gender)
P-Peace:
Peace, oh peace, what can I say of you, but the bodies buried, the burning buildings, the lives lost and children homeless, the refugees wandering from here to there, not knowing any peace, for war is all they know and the death of self, of culture and of peace.
Mike Adams
2005
P-Semper Fi (2006):
Semper Fi, until I die
I have to wonder why
I do this living and dying,
But just to look and see
the eyes of a child found.
A man speaking plain and open, expressing freedom of thought of action, and of faith in multitudes.
Living in peace and knowing safety.
I have just to know of why I do and die so that they at home may thrive and wonder when daddy is coming home!
2006 (For Ed Donovan, my Uncle - Semper Fidelis)
P-Negative:
A dark pool a hole dark as midnight a lake of cold and darkness or just pity Why wallow in the pool of darkness called pity when the light of happiness calls you but you just have to find the portal the door the window and the way My life has been negative, seeing darkness when light.
Seeing things from the dark side of things, expecting things dark, and most of all, remembering only the negative things..
Mike Adams
2005/2006 working on it
P-Lady of Light:
Her eyes do warm the soul, to bring light to this darkness, to break the shackles of depression and anger, her eyes to pierce the gloom, and break the chains that bind his soul to the darkness.. She walks in grace, down the stairs of his prison, to find him, to cast away the darkness and the shadows, all fall before her love and beauty, not dying but reborn in joy and happiness.. She sees him, alone in his cell, dirty and disgusting in his filth and degradation, but she has but to touch him and it all falls away like a dream once had, but forgotten in the days before birth..
He stands up, his shackles fall away as he reaches to her and holds her close. Two souls joined as one, together forever, and no gloom can harm them in their love and desires, for it is born of love shared together, neither one above the other, shared loves, passions, desires, hopes and dreams.. together for an eternity and a day, never apart even when not together.. Bliss found and never lost.. For even past deaths door they go together, forever and more..
Mike Adams
2005
P-Friendship:
Friends, the dark days, the light day, the hard days, the nite times shared not out of lust, or desire, or even vice and degradation but out of love, of companions and times shared, love between to people, not of lust or some base desire, but out of the need to be social, to share moments, words, comments and vents or just hugs, and being there, to know others pains and help there, to see the pain in the others eyes and wish it gone, gone by sharing between two, not one alone.
Mike
2005
P-Dearest Christ:
Please forgive them for who they are For they are what they hate the most.
they ask for love, and accept hate instead.
These beings call human but far from humane.
They blame God for being cruel and angry but they often do it to themselves.
Hurt, pain, manipulate, and drama. Please forgive them for just being what they hate most
Human.
Mike Adams
2006
P-Butter Flies are Free:
Oh sweet butterfly, so like the wind you ride, to catch you is to know you but in this all I do is still you and hold you captive, butterflies are free, to know the currents of wind, to fly afar, never to be held by mortal hands.
For in the holding is the tragedy, for what are dreams held but never let free.
Mike May 1998 Written for Meg Obed a friend.
P-Anger Numb: I feel numb with no anger to sustain me to fill me and hold me tight to keep me going to provide comfort and warmth when alone, no pain to remind me mortal I am to remind me that I live.. Now just numb for the pain has past, or just hidden but the anger is gone and I am numb and lost, music once held me, not it is dreary and boring, no effect just numb, feeling nothing, but the empty void that was my hate, anger and pain. So I am just numb.
Mike 2005
P-Breath
Teeth hurt Nose plugged Draining clogged throat asthma active allergies strong
Lungs hurt clogged by fluids solidifying Each breath an effort to just live one more
breath please just one more breath.
Mike
2009?
About the fun of being asthmatic, allergies and such
P-Depression:
Depression what is it, why does it hold me back like a vice or chains strong.
What can I do to remove it from my life and go on to bigger and better to follow my dreams most high on into the sky, but I sit here chained to earth, like some stone held fast by miles of earth never to see the sky and sun, but from glimpses short, only enough to know I am down deep in my depression, and not happy with where I am, but with no way known to relived me of this burden.
What cruel fate to be given a vision, but as well let it be held in such a grip as mine.
Oh to the sun I wish to climb, up into the sky like a bird on wing but this feeling of earth keeps me fast I struggle and strain but I still remain tied to earths cold grasp, depression is its name, but more than that is all I know is its effects on me and my path, crooked and often dead of end is this path, for when my energy is only enough to fight the depression there is little left for others things than it. But there is some light at the end of this tunnel deep and dark, what it is I shall see for this thing is killing me slowly, inch by inch, miles by mile this depression is slowly killing what of me there is that wishes to go on to better things.
Pray tell the light finds me before the darkness totally engulfs me in its cold dark grasp, rends my soul from my body and casts me to the pile of its latest victim with out a care of who I was and what I could have become, just that I am dinner for it and my life was a good fight but in the end I was his and now my broken soul lies here on this pile of broken dreams of mine and others.
Lost to a world uncaring or caring but unable to help, for its hard to lead them away from the water of death they crave, and death style.
I crave the light and the promises made of my abilities, but still held fast in chains most strong and deadly to this path I do plod along, looking for that exit that will either save me or end my life and cast myself on to that pile so high of broken dreams and lost souls.
Mike Adams
1998
P-Depression of Loss:
Depression is here, sinking in fast and hard for the sun has left the sky and shall I die now, or just wander here in this place of darkness cold and damp, like a man on thorozine..
Mike Adams
200?
P-Numb:
Feel what nothing for all is dead, all
is gone no feelings nothing there just numb.
Mike Adams
2006
Dedicated to a Coast Guard Diver
Or a strange meeting at a Air Force Mental Ward
P-Five Percent:
A room, cave, dark and dreary.a chair rises up but not to the sky, but to cloths, or to a human, figure in dirty clothes, alive or dead? hard to tell, all you can see is the cloths, figure there now and later, lost in dreams or darkness boozed up and lost in a world long dead and lost. Abandoned by all but others of like nature and a bartender thirsting for their money but not for their lives. A heap of what is flesh and bones. Of rags and cloths unwashed.
A smell of urine and booze, and body unwashed for weeks. A being crumpled on stool, often for hours unending until closing and thrown out to fend for self in a cold dark world, hoping to find warmth and comfort, but not likely, for all are done with them, for they are chronic in their nature, unwilling or unable to change hopeless drunks or players of games of chance. Pull tabs fall below them on the floor in a heap, as the money they get, or have falls into a bars till.
A drink done many times in front, and will there be money for another and another, to might as well have a straw into a bottle with no bottom. For all hope is gone, brain is dead, liver wants relief and smells of it.
Stench smelled from feet away Face cragged and suffering from decades of neglect. Eyes dead to the world, mouth drooling booze, and puke Chronic or just plain terminal
Once alive, but now just waiting to die. Slow and painful, all cast away for family is done with them for they are selfish, or just lost.
Lost to a world uncaring or caring but unable to help, for its hard to lead them away from the water of death they crave, and death style.
In places named for holy, speed and northern, they rot slowly and end up homeless and forgotten and dead. Dead slow, or suicidal, all is the same, for its self destruction all the same. Nights of sleeping with persons just for booze.
A place to stay, a life of degradation and prostitution and abuse, molested and used. So in this, I say, who cares for the five percent? Detox, and shelter? Police and ambulance? Family who throws them out?
Mike Adams
2010
sorry been working on a poem, about a person or what is left of a person, after years of living in a local bar.. homeless, lost, and forgotten, nearly dead. Well, sadly many go there and stay there..
the hidden 5% or maybe the 5% many see but not see past to the 95% who are sober and clean and happy?
P-Elderado
In the distance and far away i see a land of blue and gray On to the star light ride, onto Elderado by the morning we ride,
horses grey, black and blue onto the dew of day we ride and find death on the door step and inside, so we ride some
more to catch the beast and drive it back and retake Elderado..
Mike Adams
2003
Copyright 1998 Michael C. Adams