John Adams

is a Poet, currently residing in Poughkeepsie NY. Born in Dansville NY in 1951, John attended Boston University And La Universidad De Sevilla. He has studied Arabic islamic art, linguistics and Ethnology. John has traveled extensively in the U.S., Canada and Central America, where he lived for a short time in Guatemala, teaching English. Upon returning to the states in 1973, John married, raised three kids, wrote and connitued to pursue his interest in music and visual art. John has been published in Night magazine, and produced a book of 92 poems, entitled "HALF LIFE OF DREAMS".


 

PIECES OF DREAMS

Funny the way
the night follows the day
funny and sad sometimes


Funny the way
through the days and the nights
no one calls or writes
no one stops by.


Funny the way
the day follows the night
whether or not I've slept
whether or not i've wept


Funny the way
the nights and the days disappear
leaving we nothing
but pieces of dreams
nothing but pieces of dreams
©1997 John Adams


NIGHTWORLD

I'm dragging the river of her night world
finding nothing in that dull slow current.
That waterworld dosen't give up it's dead


I'm searching the slipstream of her retreat
finding nothing, the amnesia of night
finding nothing at all of her or us.


I'm chasing a phantom though the nightworld
finding nothing. The dark forgetful rooms
the forgetful faces hazard nothing.


I'm shaking down a dream in a slow motion
finding nothing, hoping never to hear
the requiem for love's happy ending.


©1997 John Adams


VIEWPOINT

Images spin around in my head
the lonly room, the lonley bed
the paperback book I bought
but never read.


Outside, the air us cold but clear.
I see the the winter steam.
My eyesite's good.
I know this is no dream.


But looking back
I sorely miss my wife and kids
the summer nights
the fireflies and the katydids


That's all gone now
a dancing memory
like a little child
who hides behind a tree.


©1997 John Adams



LOVE KEEPS COMING ON

I see the weakness
in a love so strong
that it keeps coming on and on
so long after one's lover has gone.


The love that prececed me
through each lucky day
now dogs me
through my shallow sleep
and shadows me
down each crowded empty street.


I see the danger
in playing it safe
in love that never reveals
it's face until it's turning away


and still keeps coming on and on and on.

©1997 John Adams

JUST LIKE LOVE

It's just like love to disappear
without a word
without a tear.


long is the wait
from dusk to dawn.
So long the wait
once love has gone.


Gone like the sun
beyond the hill.
Sweet is the pain
bitter the pill.


Bitter the moon
that shines above.
So out of reach
it's just like love.

©1997 John Adams

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