a
deafening
silence
screams
between
them

he sits
looking
at her
with an
open mind
and an
open heart

she sits
looking
down
hiding
behind her
barriers

one day, he thinks
one day
she will
break through
the barriers
she will
break through
any afflictions
that may exist

he smiles
at her
knowing that
she
is
beautiful

through
the pain
through
the sadness
through
the emotions
through
the fear

she
is
beautiful

for her
his arms
will be open
his mind
will be open
his heart
will be open

he will
give her
the
love
that
she
deserves

from my book "this and that and everything in between" - https://www.amazon.com/author/rickadamspoetry

each night
when I go to bed
I lay on my side
because there are
knives in my back
and knives in my heart

lying on my back
or on my chest
would only push the
knives in further
and deeper

as if they’re not
far and deep enough

I have managed to
remove some of
the knives and
continue to live
while bleeding through
the open wounds

although I suppose
removing the knives
doesn’t matter
at this point

for every knife that
I remove
there’s another one
or two or three that
are stuck in me

I don’t even feel
the pain anymore

I just know that the
knives are there

and so do those who
stuck them there

I remember who
stuck each knife
and when they
stuck it in

and stupidly I forgave
a couple of them
only for them
to stick the knife
in me again

never trust the hand
that stabbed you
even once

if they stab you
once they will
stab you again

some may remove the
knife and heal the
wound themselves
but this is rare

the majority
if not all
of those
who stuck the knife
in you would rather
watch you bleed to
death than remove
the knife and heal
your wound

yet
I am not
bleeding to death

I am
not dying

so
with that
I shall remove
each and every
one of these knives

if anything
each one of
these knives
has only made
me stronger

if I can
survive this
I can
survive anything

no matter
the
personal situations

no matter
the pain

no matter
the sadness

no matter
the conflicts

no matter
the frustrations

no matter
what lies
on the surface

beneath
all of that
is pure
beauty

your heart
wants to be
filled with love

and my heart
has love
to give

so
come
to
me

we shall
complete
one another

we shall
make
each other
whole

our
hearts
shall
become
one

our
love will
remain
strong

no
matter
what

thirty years, it has been
thirty years of pain
thirty years of wondering
thirty years of questioning
thirty years of not knowing
thirty years of crap
just plain old crap
the same crap
over
and over
and over
and over

thirty years

thirty years
of feeling
like
I don't
belong
belong here
belong there
belong anywhere

I'm smart, I've been told
I'm nerdy, I've been told
I have goals, I've been told
I know what I want in life, I've been told

those things I've been told
as if they are bad things
negative things
the wrong things

as if to say
"no, no, no,
you're not cool
unless you're a
lazy unmotivated
*******"

that's not me
never was me
never will be me

so to those
who told me
those things,
the hell
with them

their attitude
stinks worse
than a beer ****

from my book "This And That And Everything In Between"
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07G4W63SV

in the dark is where
I am most comfortable.
it is where
I am my happiest.
it is where
I sit back,
relax
and unwind
after a hell of a day.

in the dark is where
I reflect.
it is where
I sort my emotions.
it is where
thoughts run through my head
like old film
running through
a projector.

in the dark is where
I am in my greatest mood.
it is where
I do my best work.
it is where
I drink wine,
smoke cigars,
write poems
and short stories.

in the dark
there can be
beautiful things.
in the dark
there can be
ugly things.

in the dark
there can be
a lot of good,
but there can also
be a lot of evil
and harm.

in the dark
one can be
left waiting,
wondering
and worrying.
yet in the dark
one can also
find peace,
purity
and wonderful
solitude.

I am
never afraid
in the dark,
nor am I
ever alone
in the dark.
I have
my mind,
my pen
and my paper.

in the dark
there is never
any light.
as there
never was,
never will be,
never
can be
and never
should
be.

she and I argued tonight
we were going out to eat
I wore black pants with white socks
she said that I looked stupid
this is how I dress, I said
you can’t go like that, she said
I can and I will, I said
we argued, argued, argued

she had enough and she left

I drank wine and ate pizza

and I wrote a few poems

one of them being this one

I live in 2300 square feet
of dark cold house.

there are steel canisters
of fresh ground coffee.

there is a coffeemaker
that is old but working.

there is a cedar box
full of discount cigars.

there is a wooden rack
stocked with cheap varietals.

there is a media player
with hours of blues tunes.

there is a desk with pens
and reams of lined paper.

take those away from me
and I will have nothing.

last night was our night
we went to a show
and the show started
and we watched the show
and we liked the show
and the show was over
and so was our night

twin brothers were out
celebrating their 40th birthday.
to their left
there were babies and toddlers in strollers.
to their right
there were elderly people in wheelchairs.
when the brothers were leaving
they turned out of the parking lot
onto a three-lane highway.
they were in the middle of the road.

last night was spent with my five friends;
my five best friends in the whole wide world.
their names are Cabernet,
Pinot,
Merlot,
Bordeaux
and Shiraz.

they are always there when I need them;
they relax me
and soothe me.
they help me through my problems,
dull my pain,
and help me sleep at night.

they will never ignore me,
avoid me,
desert me,
deceive me,
lie to me
or steal from me.

we were all together late last night,
my five friends and I.
when we started the night,
they were full of body
and color.
before I knew it,
four of my five friends
were gone.
the only one left
was Merlot.

it was late
and I was tired.
they’re good at that,
my five friends.
they’re good at
making me feel tired
and sleepy.
they’re good at playing tricks on me too.

“how do you feel?” asked Merlot.

“I feel good,” I replied.

“well,” said Merlot,
“just wait until morning…”

I take a break from writing,
go to a diner not too far
from my house.

I walk in and grab a
local newspaper and
sit down at the counter.

I order a ham and cheese
sandwich on toasted wheat
and a water.

I open the local newspaper
and start reading.

a man is sitting a couple
seats down on my left
having a cup of coffee
and also reading the
local newspaper.

“everybody’s crazy,” he tells me.

“I guess so,” I tell him without
looking up from my paper.

“must be something in the water,” he tells me.

I just smile and nod.

he finishes his coffee,
folds the newspaper
and tosses it aside,
drops fifty cents on the
counter and walks out.

I finish my meal,
pay and leave a tip,
walk out and leave
to go back home.

while I’m driving
my stomach turns
and bubbles and growls
and then it feels like
my insides drop straight
down and overcrowd
my bowels.

must be something in the water.

burrito lies on a plate
tightly wrapped
getting cold

she lies on the couch
tightly wrapped
like a burrito
getting warm

my night is wrapped
and I will lie on the couch

tightly wrapped
around her

my beautiful burrito

I was lying in bed watching the morning news
when the weather babe came on.

I was hypnotized.

the way that she moved back and forth:
from the right side of the screen,
to the left, and to the right again.
and the way that she moved her lips
when she talked.

and her voice.
ohh. . . her voice: so sweet, so ****,
so innocent, so pure.

and when she looked at the camera,
it was as though we locked eyes.

I could date a weather babe.
she would have the ability to look into the future.
she could predict my sunny days, my gloomy days,
and my rainy days.
and I would love her even when she is wrong.

if it didn’t work out with the weather babe,
I could date the traffic babe.
she would be there for me
whenever I’m in a jam.

I have this fantasy
of
us
sitting on the
couch
drinking
smoking
talking

then at dusk
we
sit outside
and
we
drink and
smoke and
talk
some more

you
telling
me
what’s on
your
mind
and
me
telling
you
what’s on
my
mind

not that
I
ever really
have much on
my
mind
or
at least
anything
worth
talking about

you
do most
of the
talking
and
I
just
listen
to
your
voice:
the most
beautiful
voice
given to
the most
beautiful
woman
ever
created

then after
we
finish
our
drink and
our
smoke
we
make
love
and
we
lie naked
feeling each other’s
heartbeat
and
hearing each other’s
breathing

and
in the morning
I look at
you
as
you
sleep and
I
admire
you
and
appreciate
you

and after a
good morning kiss
we
get up and
do it all
again

tomorrow, young grandson,
you will look sharp
and handsome.

tomorrow, young grandson,
there will be many faces:
some young,
some old,
some familiar,
some unfamiliar.

tomorrow, young grandson,
there will be flowers,
hugs
and kisses.

tomorrow, young grandson,
there will be great warmth
drying all tears
and curing all broken hearts.

tomorrow,
young grandson,
you will be at my funeral.

made several circles
cut across
a few times
up
down
around
the lot

finally
found the
**** building

I parked
got out
walked toward the building

crossed paths
with
a couple men
in business-casual
attire
neither one of
them greeted
nodded
smiled
nothing

I entered
the building
crossed the lobby

there were
lots
of stone
lots
of glass
lots
of indirect lighting
all of it
very nice
very modern

I waited for the
next elevator
going up

an elevator
opened
I got on

the elevator
doors were
closing
a young woman
looking down
stepped
into view

with my arm
I stopped the
elevator doors
from closing

the doors
reopened

the young woman
got onto
the elevator

“what floor?” I asked

she nodded
looking down

I didn’t
say anything

the doors closed
the elevator
took us up

she stood there
looking down
neither one
of us spoke

we got off
on the eighth floor
went opposite
directions
in the hall

I found the
suite that
I needed

I opened one
of the double
glass doors
and entered the
reception area

I said to
the receptionist,
“I’m here to see Miss…”

the receptionist
cut me off
just gave me
four big nods

I sat in a
cushioned chair
that was
very comfortable

I waited

various staff
walked by
without
looking up
without
looking around

some folks
passed each other
without
acknowledging
one another

I waited

I took note
of the furniture
took note
of the decor

I waited

in an office
in a building

much
nicer than
the people
in them

intersecting
lines of sight

crossing
the
midnight boundary

two trains
passing

now
it’s only
history

I awoke in the morning
slid out of bed
and went through
my usual routine of
staring through my
office window
watching the deer
and other wild life
as I devoured a
*** of coffee

the sun was out

afternoon rolled around
and so did the clouds:
big
dark
grey
******* of clouds

I was sitting at my
desk in my office
jotting down thoughts
to begin work on my
next set of poems

I can burn many
hours brainstorming
and writing

and I did

evening fell
and finally so
did the rain:
heavy
chunky
drops
of rain

pounding the roof
and the windows

there was thunder
and lightning
and my desk lamp
flickered a time or two

then
a bright flash
of lightning
and a loud
crack of thunder

and the
power went out
in the house

I hadn’t done much
of anything
so while waiting
for the power to
come back
I thought
that I should
get off my ***
and do something

and I did

just long enough
to find a flashlight
and uncork a
bottle of wine

and then
I went back
to writing

when you give up on something
you start it
without finishing it

nothing bothers me
more than
an unfinished something

you can’t give up
on something
you haven’t started

therefore
I’m never going to
start
anything

that way
I’ll never
give up
and
nothing
will ever
be
unfinished

in this town, they say,
love is just
a
heartbeat
away

yet
for many
good men
the pain of
abandonment
is the
same
heartbeat
away

in this town
the sun falls
and
the moon rises
where
for many
good men
tombstones
mark the graves
of
hope
happiness
and desire -
of which
all
died
of
a
premature
death

the rain has stopped,
but the thunder cracks
and rumbles
and the sky is as
grey and cloudy
as my tired eyes

many days
I think of my
next poem
or my next
brand of cigars
or my next
bottle of wine

but today
I think of you,
my beautiful

I think of
your hair,
eyes,
nose,
mouth,
lips,
smile,
voice,
laugh,
skin,
body,
h­eart,
and soul

I think of you,
my beautiful

I think of us
on a spontaneous trip,
driving in the car
with the windows down,
your hair blowing in
the wind,
singing songs on
the radio
without knowing
all of the lyrics,
laughing as we
make up words
or hum
the melody

I think of nights
on the couch
in front of the fire,
drinking wine,
listening to music,
and reading poetry

I think of mornings
waking up
next to you
with the sun
beaming through the
bedroom window and
onto you like a goddess

as time goes on,
memories will fade,
just as you did,
when you took
your last breath

sitting on a blanket
near the pond
watching the ducks
nibble on
trails of food
left by other
park-goers

my eyes
land on
a young woman
demolished by
the wrecking ball
of life

I am
no longer
interested in
the ducks

I look at
the young
woman

I look at
her hair
as that
tender park
breeze passes
through it

I look at
her eyes

I look at
her face

I look
through
her sadness

I close
my eyes

I imagine
the sound
of
her heartbeat

I smile

I look
at her
again

there are
many things
filled with
tremendous
beauty

and she
is too