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  Nov 2014 Joe Adomavicia
Emma Pickwick
So I keep asking myself why I keep trying to fight these battles
I know I have already lost,
And never looking forward enough to recognize the cost.
When this had been a train with no stops to let myself recover,
And I was constantly leaving my imprint in the thoughts of all the others.
I was trying to heal without letting it cross my mind,
Of the time I was touched and the choice wasn't mine.
I kept building all my relationships on vanity and lust
When I realized there wasn't anyone left I could trust.
Maybe I needed to grow up a little,
Gain some self respect back,
Stop smoking cigarettes and drinking six packs.
Maybe it was my fault and I miscalculated my moves,
And I was a pawn in chess and he was a black shadow in the corner of the room.
I wish I could've told someone earlier,
Rebuild the barriers that were crossed,
I just keep asking myself why I keep trying to fight these battles
I know I have already lost.
  Nov 2014 Joe Adomavicia
ryn
Give me a minute
To read the stars
Lamenting in their stories
Their laboured twinkling far and sparse

Give me this moment
To stumble and swoon
My branches reaching for
The faraway moon

Give me a while
To be one with the universe
Hear the colliding planets
As they spill their mournful verse

Give me some time
To plot my rightful place
Within my uncharted galaxy
And collapsing space...
  Nov 2014 Joe Adomavicia
ryn
.    _ _
     /   /  
  /  /  
 ||
    
enticed by   \\  the alluring
promise of everlasting sweetness•i had
shed all trepidation to indulge in this lone
songstress•hanging on its own, just enough
within my arm's length•seemed so easy but
a formidable test of strength•i had reached
and plucked without in mind, the doubt of
myth•held it for an instant before sinking
in my teeth•it's the sole mouthful that
had brought about this perpetual
racking cough•it's the apple...
that i should've never taken
a big bite        out of...•
  Nov 2014 Joe Adomavicia
Sjr1000
"Soldiers Heart"
Two brothers on their way
one wore blue
and
one wore gray
one came home
one stayed behind
one mother mourns
on a November's day.
212,938
bled and died
on
American soil.

"Irritable Heart"
14 years in the Philippines
far too many days
4200 died
so many miles away.

"Shell Shock"
Johnny got his gun
alive in the tomb
of his mind
no eyes
no ears
no arms
no legs
a beating heart
an active mind
alive
with memories and sensations
Paths of Glory
leads
the way
and 53,402 stay
while one came home.

"Battle Fatigue"
291,557
perished.
Nagasaki got its bomb
six million died
before our fathers and grandfathers
liberated them.

To the 38th Parallel
we did go
where old soldiers
never die
they just fade away
with
time.
33,746 died.

"Stress Response Syndrome"
Apocalypse Now
Jacob had his ladder
in
the jungles of Vietnam
Full Metal Jacket
Born in the USA
homeless veterans
now aged still pay today
while 47,424
lay in their graves.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder"
My daughter
my son-in-law
bring it all
back home to me
Navy Medics
seven years
they traveled with the Marines
picking up the pieces
as they went their way
many too many trips
for all those young
troops
now we are
seeing
their heroism
proceeding
despite being afraid
a price
dearly
we all pay.
5,282 and still counting.
For all those who have walked in the horrors of war
and the grief too countless to tell.
Let us all pray in our way,
work in our days
for the end of war.

"Soldiers Heart" etc, the evolving terms for what is now known as PTSD.
Two Brothers on their way is a beautiful, beautiful Civil War song. "Two sisters stood by the railroad tracks, one wore blue and one wore black. "
Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo the ultimate anti-war novel, he was later black listed during the McCarthy Hearings.
Paths of Glory, Stanley Kubrick, about WWI.
Apocalypse Now, Francis Ford Coppola (on my top five movie list.)
Jacobs Ladder, Tim Robbins, haunting Vietnam war movie.
Full Metal Jacket, Kubrick again.
Born in the USA, the Boss, Bruce Springsteen.

My daughter, Katie, defines courage proceeding
despite being scared.
Doug's sense of humor and loving heart
he proceeds despite what he has seen.
Do any of y'all really know me?
Can you see who I am from my poetry?
If your answer is yes, you're wrong
Even I don't know where I belong
When people ask who I am
I say I'm 26, a mother, a poet,
I basically just read my bio
But you've all read that too
Does that mean you really know?
A friend told me lately
To stop being so humble about my poetry
I don't like to come off sounding cocky
He says I'm **** good at what I do
But not every poem is about you
Not every word is always true
Sometimes, they're just words written in ink
To give you an idea, to really make you think....  
But my poetry doesn't define me
Doesn't show you who I am inside
Sure, you've read about my heartaches
And all the nights I've cried
But nothing I write,
Can show you the inner workings of my mind
So, please don't think you really know me
Based solely on all my posted poetry
Because, to be honest, I'm not even sure who I am
And I know me, better than all of you
But please continue to read and comment
Because I'd love to know the truth
About what you all really think of me
Honestly, y'all have really helped me through
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