By definition, talent is to have natural aptitude or skill,
So naturally for a poet like myself,
Talent is what happens when artistry
Becomes the integration of poetic elements—
Transferred from savage seas of thought
To the nakedness of a sheet of paper—
A voice of confidence composing songs of beauty in motion,
Live wired passion sparking spirit lifting inspiration.

Talent is within the heart of whom possesses it—
If the vessel is tainted with chaos
Then the outcome of devastation is imminent
If the vessel is painted with endearment
Then the outcome of equanimity is prominent

By definition, talent is to have natural aptitude or skill,
So naturally for a poet like myself,
Talent is a gift ,one not obtained freely—
nor does it find its way to everyone,
but it is the duty of the talented
to be inspiration for the talent-less—
To be a human of poetry,
A messenger of the earth,
Parallel to fellow man,
no matter the race, creed or gender.

Talent is within the heart of whom possesses it—
If the vessel is tainted with chaos
Then the outcome of devastation is imminent
If the vessel is painted with endearment
Then the outcome of equanimity is prominent.

Joseph R. Adomavicia

I am inclined to think
We all are related in a selfish fashion—
Every action has a reaction
Every favor comes with a rebuttal.
One way or another
We smother each other—
Subliminal hopes of bettering ourselves
At the expense of crippling those we claim to be of importance.
And this alone is what makes our worlds so similar.

Humans are fragile psychologically and in physicality,
So much we can't help but to betray the helping hand.

Don’t settle—
Whatever you do
don’t settle with it is too late now,
it will fill you with regret
and leave you frozen in fear.
We all want change
whether it lies within ourselves
or those around us yet cannot accept
the fact we all strive for a change
that varies from  person to person—
So naturally the eyes of one
differ from another.

We all seek ways to be great
yet cannot work around the problems
that arise when fear arrives—
We all give in to
the fear of what others think,
the fear of what others do,
the fear of failure,
the fear of the unknown,
and the fear of every second yet to be lived.
But don’t settle—
Whatever you do
don’t settle with it is too late now
it will fill you with regret
and leave you frozen in fear.

I woke to a thunderstorm's
howling winds and staggering rains
shaking and hammering against
my wooden framed window panes—
And no more than seconds later
shattered glass became the new rug
and the rain poured through the new hole in the wall
followed by flaring flashes and unrelenting growls from an ebony sky.
Cautiously I rose and made way to my old Olivetti
pounding the keys explaining how nature spoke to me—
Quickly, angrily, and violently,
urging me to keep my eyes open, my chin up and shoulders square
because the worst of the storm has yet to come and one may never know
what may occur at any hour of the day.

She stood in a field of green
Ripping the heads off daises—
What subtle reinforcement for the fight.
I have tried—
With all of my might,
To look beyond what greets my eyes,
Yet find myself with no choice
But to turn the other cheek.

She stood with her feet in the sand
Building towers only to knock them down—
What subtle reinforcement for the fight.
I have tried—
With all of my might,
But cannot stand to bare witness
To the love of destruction and reconstruction
With no other purpose than amusement.

She stood with a heart in her hands
Squeezing tightly, dispersing the remains—
What subtle reinforcement
For the fight.
I have tried—
With all of my might,
But cannot rid myself of the pain of her disdain.

She stood with a stone cold stare
Eyes locked on the horizon—
Emotionless, regretless.
What subtle reinforcement
For the fight.
I have tried—
With all my might,
But at the end of the day
I have learned one cannot
Make another do or say
What they deem to be correct.

Little people
Fill a big world
Celebrating small victories
Reveling in their simplicity,
While bigger people
Struggle to weave
A world of their own
Celebrating  the  victory
Of a war won In its entirety.

I wonder—
Have you ever taken the time to notice,
how Summer's sun can clear gunmetal skies,
or how it refracts off the water
of a somber heaven—
Filling the darkness  behind your eyes?

I wonder—
Have you ever taken the time to notice,
how when Spring's roses begin to  blossom
the wind carries love's scent through the air
or how it effortlessly enraptures—
permeating beauty
from within the pigment of it's petals?

I wonder—
have you ever taken the time to notice,
how the cycle of Autumn's leaves remain parallel
to the frailty of the living
or how the perpetuity of their purpose
is either known of and ignored or understood and accepted?

I wonder—
Have you ever taken the time to notice
how the Winter's deep freeze
blankets and preserves the earth beneath our feet
To walk upon in new years to come,
Or how it brings forth the warmth of family's serenity?

I have spent my days
gazing into the clouds
hoping they take form of your face—
And even with an imaginative mind
I still have not found what I am looking for.

I have spent my nights
gazing into a vast sea of stars
wishing upon those bright as Sirius
to guide me in your direction—
But still my will is lost among the galaxies.

I have spent my days
venturing the streets I was raised upon
and have expanded onto others—
Yet, have found my eyes are set—
meant for you,
and when all I see is the smile of all the other roses
Echoed are my thoughts,
a wayward symphony composes.

I have spent my nights
sitting at my desk under lampshade
waiting as if inspiration will course through my fingertips—
yet, I am only left to find myself
writing in the name of the love in which I have dreamt of,
but could never call my own.

Honestly, let's face facts;
We all should care for one another as we are but don’t—
Aren’t we all headed towards a plot, six feet deep?
 
I never understood why a woman wears make-up—
Are you making a cover up for your insecurities?
Are you making yourself available for the he said she said?
Or was there a moment in your life someone said
You were less than beautiful?
And if such a statement was verbalized,
Let me reassure you that you are beautiful and no one can take that away.
 
 Honestly, let's face facts;
We all should care for one another as we are but don’t—
Aren’t we all headed towards a plot, six feet deep?
 
I never understood why a man clenches so tight to his pride—
Are you that afraid of what you encompass inside?
Are you making pretentious decisions to impress the next window shopper?
Or was there a moment in your life someone said
You were less than a man?
And if such statement was verbalized,
Let me reassure you that you are only the man you decide to be and no one can take that away.

I don't think it's the lies within words
that define a person—
But it's the
Lies within the heart
that hold definition.

I am retooling myself
Into the man, who honors integrity with daily exercise,
Into the words of a poem, a new stanza added daily,
Into the notes of a song, yet to be complete,
Into the symphony p, a theme that lifts, soaring above the commonplace,
Into the jewel multifaceted,  colors deep and husky,
Into the essences of love, always learning, dispensing hatefulness,
Into the fury of a great warrior ennobled with heroism,
Into the dexterity of fingers that dispense living kindness,
Into the vibrancy of an orchid, born from tiny seed and falls soil,
Into the vessel science and technology constantly reforms, evolute,
Into the words of a book before his eyes, before closing time, clutched with purebred pride.

There is more to the sky than clouds.
I have gazed upon the facets of seasonal and natural occurrence
and never on any given day have I seen the same view twice—
I am inclined to think the same could be said about each other,
if and only if we cared to have a little more love for one another.

I do not miss those that are alive
for the opportunity is still present
to be within each others presence.
Where as those that have passed
are left to live in the past.
They have lost their place in this world,
while those that are alive
still strive to see another day.
I feel it is my duty,
my life long perpetuity
as the loved and the beloved
to assure those at rest live on.

Hello all, I have been busy at work on my upcoming book Love Unbound. This is a collection of romantic themed poetry. It is available on Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble.com and if you would like a signed copy message me and we can sort out details.

I'm so thrilled to share this collection of poems with the world.

More people should
do their homework,
if they did,
there would be
healthier conversation
and less devastation.

For as long as I could remember
I have never wanted to grow so old
That I could not get out of my bed on my own,
Take a **** and wipe my *** on my own—
Nor would I ever want to be stowed away
In some **** ***,
**** smelling,
Convalescent slash retirement home—
I have seen how those ******* places
Absorb the remainder of the faith left in your hope far too many times.
To be restricted to this "new home" away from home
Only a spec of the man I once was
With some nurse feeding me pills
and halfhearted advice about how I might live a little bit longer
If I stop doing all that I loved up until this moment—
I say simply,
If I was ever such a nuisance to my own family
I am certain I would prefer someone to end me swiftly—
I've heard a morphine drip is quite inexpensive these days.
And as for a burial send my ashes into an October breeze
to be scattered over its delicate leaves
And through death
I shall reprieve.

Even though you linger
Through my thoughts
I know now,
Finally—
that it is over.
The black and blue XNY watch you bought
Has stopped ticking,
It has died—
Our time is up,
Wont you run along now?
It seems I was never
Worth the ink and paper anyway.

Even though you linger
Through my thoughts
I know now,
Finally—
That it is over.
The Olivetta's ink ribbons
Have dried up
And no longer will those keys strike,
Embedding your ink onto paper.
Our time is up,
Wont you run along now?
It seems you were never
Worth the time of day anyway.

I know now,
Finally—
That it is over.
Run along now,
Run along and don’t look back
I was never worth your time anyway.

It looked like heaven
was just beyond the clouds—
lucid voices from afar
spoke words of tarnished beauty.
Bearing an aura,
drawing me close,
offering comfort and solace
as a keepsake of the imminent.
Where my faith lies
I am unsure—
and here I stand
searching for meaning
unsure of the cause.

When I hear people say
" I want to take my life back to a time when it was much simpler."

I follow up and ask,
"Why in the world would you want to live such a simple life?"

I for one, would prefer to struggle,
find a present solution and cope—
Life is never going to be plain Jane and easy.
Ask yourself, when did something good in life come easy?
If we find truth and acceptance finding the light in darkness we will find success.
If we let ourselves dwell in the past letting it control us
Mourning over what once was and what could have been
We waste days, months, even years trying to relieve the grievances of the past
Dwelling, descending, succumbing, ignoring the realization that

Life moves on within a duality—
Warm and subtle
like blood pouring from a wound
And as cold as the hands
that swing the blade.

I wonder about you everyday—
Every little thing.
Did you miss my voice today?
I miss your voice.
Did you cry today?
If so, let my hands
Clear the storm of your eyes.
Did you smile today?
I miss your smile
It has made life worthwhile.
How is school?
What have you learned?
What have you forgotten?

I need to know if you will eventually
End up forgetting me and all that we have.
I need to know if you still love me
And need me in your life.
Who, what, where, why, and when?
Your being is all I'm seeing.
Who, what, where, why, and when?
Your being is all I'm seeing.

Am I on your mind as you drift off at night?
Am I what you dream of at night?
Am I the first you think of when you wake up?
Do you gaze over at your passenger seat, longing for me to be there?
We would drive along holding hands listening to music for hours—
Does every little thing remind you of me?
Your love greets me at all hours.
Do you crave my lips as I do yours?
When you close your eyes can you feel me?
Does your body ache for my touch?
My soul wants to leave this body in search of yours.

I need to know if you will eventually
End up forgetting me and all that we have.
I need to know if you still love me
And need me in your life.
Who, what, where, why, and when?
Your being is all I'm seeing.
Who, what, where, why, and when?
Your being is all I'm seeing.

Women shouldn't have to do
the things they do to
meet made up standards
of what beauty truly is—
Because regardless of any appearance
women are actual, natural
and the catalyst of desire.