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Pat Adamek Jun 2018
I wish my heart didn’t get juiced from the sight of you

It’s been too long since I have really seen you for that thought to be true

It’s a memory, fair enough
Memories can’t be trusted anymore than Donald Trump
Though we never discussed him
I know you’re disgusted
The same way I was when I realized that you loved him

Not Trump
but someone I despise just as much
Well that’s the past
What’s passed is past but what hurts so bad is the fact that it’s happened **** near
every
day
since

Still I see your still photo and
every
muscle
gets
tense

You’re a reflection on a mirror that contained all of my dreams
I would have let you be queen
You would probably be as happy as could be

You probably are happy as can be
But even if you aren’t there’s no way for any of us to see
That side of the camera phone
That shows you’re all alone
Or how it took you seven tries to get an angle you can show
To all of your friends

Let’s not pretend that we will ever be friendly

I thought you were my best but a test proved you we’re no friend to me

Now I don’t believe in love
And I never believed in destiny

But if I ever fall in love then let destiny take the best of me

As for the rest of me
I know he dies when I meet her

I’m still the same old *******
You left behind an evil creature

That’s how I know I never had
an angel at home

So I let you go

A little dirt on your feet is okay if you know
that your life will go on
One of the poems I wrote when my heart was broken and I was trying to feel better
Pat Adamek Apr 2015
I wish I could live under a tree
and lead a life of apathy
No bills to pay or places to be
Just this big old tree and me
and bugs and things that live here too
No one tells us what to do
No deadlines, meetings, or dates to make
oh, would a life like that be great...
Pat Adamek Jun 2016
At midnight I was mid breath in a new day
It felt like more than a year of stay and wait
I called a stalemate with this time in my life
and here was a day to celebrate?

So I exhaled in a new year
It became clear it was only new for me
with the news that's on T.V.
There must be a reason that I just can't see

Something to steer me and drive me along
It materialized there while they all sang the song
I am alive and that is enough
My family is here and I am well loved
It came in the form of a pair of beige sandals
I breathed in and blew out the candles
I guess it is a tradition now, here is a poem of my thoughts on this day of introspection
Pat Adamek Jun 2015
Do you feel a year older?
Surprised at my own reaction
I actually feel
older, exactly a year older
I'm freer in the sense that the chip on my shoulder is light enough now that I can call it a boulder
I keep my back strong
I weigh it down with the times that I used to hold her
Time
        like the flames that turned to smolder
A pile,
         just a number of molecules in specific orders
They're the tools that created order
A thought process that made me feel older
That made me feel older, but who delivered the order?
After I blew out the candle
                                     right before my eyes the number changed
Who said the words, who gave the decree, who said that I could be                                                                                                   older?
Why should I be so blessed to
be
older?
A poem about thoughts during my birthday
Pat Adamek Jul 2017
All the pages of the calendar ran past
The fingers, arms, and face and the second counting hand
And for a second, I thought I had a real life plan
Then it turned out real life had a plan
I don't understand
Why
On the third time, these birthdays, for the first time
No head in the sand
I feel like a hundred grand saying "I am who I am"
Even without ionic, atomic, nuclear clocks ticking
I can feel I'm gaining time as the plot continues tricking
my mind and skin are thickening as I continue picking
and pricking the skin, like queen mab said
This world is a dream, sometimes its a nightmare
I'm happy, it seems, having something to share
A tradition I started a few years back to work out a poem on my birthday
Pat Adamek May 2016
Dreamin'
Always dreamin'
Always up while others sleepin'
Puzzle my eyes can't read the writin' on the wall

or the sun that set this mornin'
I said diets ******' bore me
She said fine just go get high and eat what you want

She reigns constant like reality
I'm washed backed in an endless sea
of champagne splashin' but it never ever hits the ground

This self induced imagination
Helps delay procrastination
if I don't get the guts up
we'll never even speak at all

Tryin'
Always tryin'
Though some days it feels like dyin'
to see you smilin'
pulling a cig back from your mouth

I'm just so in love with you
Well at least the love is true
I made it up
thats just my luck
Well, what can you do?
Pat Adamek Jun 2018
She said “I wish somebody would have told me then that we were living in the good old times”

Here’s the trick
These are the times, right now while you’re alive

These are the times
They don’t have to be old to be good
And it may have been a long time but it must be understood that even up until then
it’s not the end

The only guarantee about time is that old friends are good friends
You don’t even have to be good friends
By good I mean close, or speak often to know
How the times have changed you both

so much

I think of you often but never draw you close or touch
Or come close to the words I want to find so much

You are living in the good times now

If you choose to let nostalgia become the largest component
I’m not living in the moment

It’s standing up and not using your feet
It’s thinking these thoughts and not choosing to speak
It’s feeling this love but choosing not to believe
It’s different for everyone
Its here before me

These thoughts may seem scattered and why does he keep changing the pattern?
Life is a quilt of different times that I quit
Then started again
Getting back to your friend
Give her a call, you promised
Friendship
Pat Adamek Sep 2018
Drinking again
You must be drinking again
You scream into your end of the cell phone
You’re going to die alone
I know
It’s exactly as I planned
I’m drunk and
I just finished my last cigarette
It’s time for bed
Drinking again
I’m ******* drinking again
You scream into your end of the void
I think you’re annoyed with my tone
You’re gunna die alone
You’re gunna end up alone
All alone, yes I know
That’s why I’m
Drinking again
Biography of my friends habits and his explanations from the initial blame shifting to finally acceptance
Pat Adamek May 2015
They feel eternal
These moments
More alive than I
Everyday the same
Exactly the same
They be the same when you die
These moments
they be eternal...............................


My mind sailed away again
(here again I set/smokin' a cigarette)
In these moments
I am not here to bear witness
(watching the branch of a hollow)
Yet they happen
They happen all around me and you
(When it moved just one step)
The pass as your laughing'
(how the willows had wept)
The move with such quickness
(and I was the last one to follow)
These moments
Pat Adamek Apr 2015
Foggy lights look like sunrises to me
Enveloped, capsized, just light on the sea
Driving in a world where I see the air
Light has no inhibitions
Light does not care
To be continued
Pat Adamek May 2015
The older generation said my future is bleak
So I just rose up like a king and broke the ground around my feet
I'm just trying to move you like you don't have the ticket for your seat
My style is so unique
because my soul is antique
If you think that you hold the key
then let the fat lady sing
it's no difference.
For the lows there are highs.
Search for truth and find lies
and you'll claim its the lies but it's truth you despise
me so I move on to plan b.
(Are you #beyond me?
I comprehend
                                                      the irony of trying to figure out the harmony.)
Pat Adamek Mar 2017
We were two objects of no value flowing down a river.
We bumped into each other and the experience was jarring but unlike anything either of us could explain in words that fit on the two dimensional space in our minds.
That was okay, I didn't need to say anything and neither did you.
So that's how it was.
Two objects of no value that clung to each other and flow down a river and for a long while it seemed we would never need to find the words to explain how we felt.
Then that storm came and the waters of the tributary flooded the land between rivers and we were washed around with all the debris.
Before I could come to an understanding of these events the river had become unfamiliar and large and wild and I was afraid.
I turned to you to say something but couldn't think of the words.
As I struggled in the waves and searched for the words I noticed we had been separated just a moment before and you were clinging to a branch that had floated too close.
As the river flowed ever forward we grew further and further apart.
As I looked around in my panic the river seemed to never end in any direction.
I thought we may float so far apart that I would never see you again.
I had been looking silently in the direction you floated for so long that, were I too unfix my gaze I would become hopelessly lost.
You, or the dot you had become, were my horizon. all I could see.
Too scared to look away from the comfort of your memory, I gave up.
Motionless, I was on shore. I had been for some time.
I stood up, because it was only then I realized I had feet, which is something of value, and it was as if a third dimension unfolded before me.
I walked out of a river, lost and alone and in awe of this wonderful world which had just been uncovered. Free.
I sometimes think about those days when I was subject to the current of a river and how you made it bearable. Now that I am out of the water and with two feet, stand confidently on land, I wonder,

would I have felt the same about you if we bumped into each other here.
Pat Adamek Nov 2018
It was a random like
I didn’t even think twice
Just typed it out and pressed send
To start the heart break again

It was a random like
You didn’t even think twice
That little (left hand) heart broke mine
With a random like

I’ll be ******
The internet suits you fine
But I’ll be ****** if I let this chance pass me by
Ill be ****** it seems your life is going well
And if it’s not there’s no way anyone could tell

That was a random like
You didn’t even think twice
That little heart broke mine
With a random like
How thoughtlessly we click “like” on one hand, and how much we read into “likes” on the other.
Pat Adamek May 2015
A poem to make today meaningful.
Though I did something
It was nothing worth sharing
So you've heard before, no one's caring.

I'll write a poem to make today meaningful.
I'll be constantly reminding
You that you never had a good grasp of timing.
And it wasn't jealousy that forced me to quit responding
It was the fact that you would only text
me that I found alarming
...and you wrote a poem to make the end meaningful

You really must be my favorite author
I've bought your work time and again
I've your words stuck in my head
And you said
"You're reading too much into this" and had nothing else to offer.
Pat Adamek Apr 2015
Of all the dreams
Of mist and rain
I've dreamed here by this window pane
Of cloud kissed skies
Of grass with dew
None proved to be as sweet as you
Pat Adamek Apr 2015
How many poets have come before me?
How many have cried for someone they did not know?
How many have open their eyes to see their sister crying at the stove?
Who among us has delivered such news?
Was it something you remember?
I never again wish to carry that coal
A fires final ember

How many poets have come before me?
Surely I am not the first.
How many poets will abhor me?
Surely I am not the worst.
How many poets will reject me?
I am certainly worth their time.
How many poets will accept me
as nothing more than boyish rhyme?

How many poets must I prove myself to?
How many more is convincing to you?
I am who I am
Yes, that has been said
These words I left here
To live after the dead
Pat Adamek Feb 2018
We were young and both learning to love
You’d come over for breakfast
once a month
When things suddenly became more serious
I had grown accustomed to the taste
Of coffee and the way that you graced every morning
I had grown accustomed to the way
You would smile and kiss my face
To say good morning

Now there’s that little memory
Inside each cup of coffee that I drink
Do you ever think of me?
Because there’s this piece of us alive down deep there’s
A link back to a fire that never died

That’s enough for me

When I look back I’m happy
When I think about it I’m proud
You made me just a little bihow
Was it all the pressure put on you?
Or was it just a choice that you made?
Even if I’m glad it’s over
I saved a little love you gave me
Poem 1 of SAD POEMS I WROTE WHILE I WAS SAD
Pat Adamek Mar 2015
These candles are not dancing.
Well of course not, nor the flames
They're calling while you're romancing
In a language they can't explain
We can all see it but none speak it
So the messages are lost
The language of breathing fire
Casting shadows from across
They exhaust themselves with candles
When the flame gives out they speak

Then we hear the voice that was talking through the fire
I saw but could not know
Only the dying breath made waves my ears require
There was actually something in the warm glow
I could smell the words you would tell me
Every sense took in your messages but I (ignored) (mistook) (how could I have known) them as mundane

Every sun must cast a shadow
Every candle is the same.
Pat Adamek Apr 2015
Like coffee in the morning
I grew used to you somehow
It started bitter and without warning
  it is ending that way now

Like Gene Kelly or Sinatra
You have Marlon Brando class
Went to pop music from the opera
Now I cant stop thinking about ***

Like two stings out of tune
We always seem to clash
Bring your beauty to the room
Where the music doesn't match

Art is ever changing: lke w/e idc
People rearranging: Thrz no bEutY Ne wer3
(Jaha baha LOL
They prolly tlk like diz N h3L7 )
Commentary (or will be someday) on how Pop culture exchanges art for ***, deep thinking for big butts, love for physical interaction.
Pat Adamek Oct 2015
In front of me I see a table
A table full of vices
A table which remembers the nights before
Covered in evidence of vices
Coca cola and Pepsi labels stare each other down
A beer cap and cigarette ash and packs crumpled down
An empty water bottle
A cellphone and a lighter
Littered with change is the table
Covered in nickels and quarters
George Washington's looking forward onto Golden Arches
Around the table the chairs are still pushed out from the people who brought him them
Left now but ghosts haunt the places they have emptied
They beg for anyone to notice the hell they are in
They scream look at what I have left you as a message
Look at my vices!
The sections are mapped out on the top of this table
Each vice has a person and each one a label
And the labels they leave are the proof there's a problem
They turn to these vices and hope they will solve them
Pat Adamek Apr 2015
The smell you leave behind
The tastes that linger
Faintest glimpses that remind
The soft brush of fingers
A haunted craving
A memory worth saving
Why should these things make
me love you

— The End —