The cupboard
Could not hold his dreams,
So the green dish fled his home.
He traveled the entire world, sailed the
Seven seas, and even went
Into outer space.
What a life!

The end never really arrives, we have new beginnings instead.

Bats arrived
In the Ozark hills
Lived among
The people
Taking a human body
As the sun went down

Some got drunk
On homemade whiskey
Passing out
Getting trapped
By the bright morning sunrise
Turning to mere dust

In the pines
A purple flower
Blooms among
The needles
Bringing color to the drab
A symbol of life

Tiny
Orange mushrooms
Bloom inside the pine stump
Within the corpse of death life breathes
Again

The baseball wakes and departs from the glove where it has slept for months. Now for a season one boy's dreams, of major league, will be fulfilled.

The hens were sleeping
A crisp cool breeze was blowing
And the full moon shinned
The chicken snakes crept inside
To begin their feast
Then one of them fell in love
His cold evil heart
Was struck by Cupid's arrow
He licked the hen's beak
She awoke and fear overcame
The farmer heard screams
And all the chicken snakes fled
That is all but one
While trying to win her love
The farmer chopped his head off

The moon was absent and the fog blended with the blackness. Then I saw a white horse standing boldly in the meadow.  The fears that had trapped me vanished.

Number two
Pencils of the past
Had a life
Which was brief
Now thanks to digital times
They live much longer

At a small tourist town
In the middle of the hills
Stands a bearded man
Sporting a derby
And shiny cowboy boots
Strumming his banjo
Folk music flows through the fresh
Windy mountain air
Soothing the tired traveler
A symbol of this nation
From the Ozark heart
Keeping a culture alive
With a rare talent
And a simple instrument
That few people play today

Cartoon Duck
Always the victim
Of the world
He lives in
Yet loved by those who view him
In the living world

Cartoon Man
Held captive by the ink
The artist
Designs him
Each thought and move is public
And no soul within

One night as I was going to bed, I looked out the window and saw 55 yellow balloons flying by. I grabbed by coat and went outside. “I wonder where they come from and where they are going,” I said to myself.”

The mystery of the yellows balloon caused me to become wide awake. My keys were in my coat, and I decided to follow these 55 yellow balloons. I drove until daylight, and then the 55 yellow balloons ascended above the clouds.

Today this mystery remains unsolved. It appears they were seen by no one else, and the news never reported it. Some things cannot ever be explained by human reasoning. This is the case of the 55 yellow balloons

Sometimes
The truth
Must be encountered

Often
Saying good-bye
Must be said

Closing
The door
Never looking back

Peppermint
A soothing flavor
For the breath
Yet it fades
As the hands of the clock move
The taste always ends

Liberty
The gift of freedom
Paid with blood
And brave sweat
As the hands of the clock move
The taste can remain

Destiny
Can be decided
Liberty
Peppermint
As the hands of the clock move
Which taste will you choose

Bland
Yet talented
John Z. Adams

Once
World Champion
By battle royal

Always
Looked over
Due to personality

As
Time past
His greatness noticed

Often
Looking backwards
We discover things

Living in a freedom does not always mean life will be easy. In times of hardship if one keeps their liberty they still have hope of reaching the stars.

Pink bubbles
Flow from the bathtub
All sizes
Yet the same
Soaring like mighty eagles
Then they just go POP!

A rose carved from ice slowly melts away. Imitations of nature vanish quickly, even when crafted by men of great talent. The superiority of mankind is rejected.

Arriving in a July rain
Was born the future bard Jax Reed
Raised in the fields of sugar cane

As a young teen he jumped a train
Seemed destined to do ***** deeds
Arriving in a  July rain

Yet in prison he found his brain
Thinking about his life’s creed
Raised in the fields of sugar cane

As an old man he seemed quite sane
He started riding a white steed
Arriving in a July rain

His stories lived through his son Bane
A legacy that left good seed
Arriving in a July rain
Raised in the fields of sugar cane

This stallion looked quite strange. His nose was round and his tail could grip. Bananas were in his feed trough. Later it was discovered that he was a quarter monkey.

Emptiness
No stories to tell
Splitting pain
Sleepless nights
The serpent always striking
Courage still survives

Long ago
In another land
Where surreal
Was the norm
Lived a knight who had no sword
Rode a unicorn

In battle
The unicorn’s horn
Struck many
In the heart
Soon the two were greatly feared
Mighty men trembled

However
All men meet their match
An arrow
Full of lead
Went through the unicorn’s hoof
Death quickly crept in

The archers
Surrounded the knight
He trembled
Full of tears
His nobility vanished
Painfully dying

It is lost
I cannot find it
Blankness thrives
Giving up
After seeking the whole world
Muse is in the heart

My father was a white dove
And my mother was a wolf
I can fly among the clouds
While howling at the full moon
A peaceful wild beast

My mind travels to places unknown
Meeting people from many places
Yet I never leave my desk
Papers stuffed in corners
Some scattered about
Stories undone
A writer's
Quest for
life

Whatever
Happens will happen
Rain or Shine
Sticks and stones
This world will continue on
Just go with the flow

Leaves
Cease
Falling
Bluebirds sing
Winter slips away
Drinking soda filled with ice cubes