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    Poems About Life and Shit
    Poems About Life and Shit
    Poems About Life and Shit
    Ebook135 pages43 minutes

    Poems About Life and Shit

    By Adam Francis Smith

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    About this ebook

    Poems About Life and Shit is just what it appears to be. It is a collection of poems that tell it like it is. Life is funny, life is sad, life is hard and life is a real trip. Life is made up of so many things from relationships with others, mysterious circumstances, the beauty of nature and of course, death. We are all in this thing together and it's going to end the same way for all of us, but the roads we take will vary, and what we see along the way will be unique to each of us. This book of poems represents what the author has have seen and experienced as he walks his own road to death. He speaks of the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, the sane and the insane and the ultimate end. Some of the poems are traditional in form, but most are free variations on poetic themes and forms. Each is designed in a way to get a point across, or to share a vision and all are easy to read and comprehend, celebrating the sound and beauty of words, and the sights, sounds, beauty and darkness of the natural and the human world around us.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAdam Francis Smith
    Release dateSep 8, 2014
    ISBN9781310200786
    Poems About Life and Shit
    Author

    Adam Francis Smith

    Adam Francis Smith was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois and has been writing fiction and poetry for over 30 years. He writes in all genres but loves writing horror and fantasy tales that have supremely human characters placed in the most unusual of predicaments. Most of his stories would be right at home in The Twilight Zone, and will appeal to anyone who loves a good twist and a bit of humor. His poetry is almost literal to the point that readers will rarely have trouble knowing what a poem written by Adam Francis Smith is all about. His poetry touches on what it means to be human and showcases the variety of life on Planet Earth, from the spiritual to the corporeal. Nature and man's relationship with nature is also a common theme, but is not so much about man's abuse of the planet, as it is about the planet's abuse of man.

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      Book preview

      Poems About Life and Shit - Adam Francis Smith

      I am the abandoned thread.

      No one cares what you've just said.

      See me slipping down the page,

      less intriguing due to age.

      Please invoke me, then reply,

      or click 'delete' and let me die.

      After The Storm

      An inverted ocean,

      a gray carpet rolls over the sky.

      Silhouettes scramble for shelter;

      light shadows scurry to darker voids

      where warmth perseveres-

      a meal, a flame, a mother's love.

      Lightning is the spark of an idea.

      Grumbling, rumbling above the clouds;

      consideration and debate.

      Arguments rage:

      logic rains,

      winds of change, in constant change

      wear down any opposition.

      Cracked boughs are counterpoint,

      a funnel cloud, an exclamation,

      swollen creeks, lofty expositions.

      Until-

      heat and anger spent,

      a final gavel bangs,

      crowds of clouds dissipate,

      the sun signals a decision made

      while men return to a wetter world

      than that they knew before the storm.

      Autumn Afoot

      Deep remains of Autumn,

      red-orange-brown,

      leaves pave the forest floor.

      Moss on stone;

      green and gray velour.

      A creek beside the trail;

      stampeding silver centipedes.

      Sounds like clinking crystal

      or decanted pink champagne.

      The smell of new scarred earth,

      decay, a fresh dug grave,

      rotting vegetation,

      and loam.

      I savor the air,

      humid, and tasting of the lake.

      I've been out too long,

      pruned fingers insubordinate.

      Black River

      Black ribbon of river reflects the heavens;

      a quivering moon, and comet.

      Obsidian mirror commands my gaze;

      a screen, on which this nightly drama plays.

      My eye fails to pierce its shimmering veil;

      midnight surface conceals true depths.

      Myriad denizens beneath the light,

      live a life, that were I able, might.

      The comforting weight of water calls.

      Being weak, I'll soon comply.

      I've envisioned my lifeless corpse adrift;

      the river's last eternal gift.

      Countless nights have found me thus;

      unresolved, my current flowing course.

      Something has kept me dry to date.

      Death or life; which the tragic fate?

      Brains. Use Them or Lose Them

      I sat alone beside the fire,

      wrapped in robe and cup in hand,

      when a particularly loud pop occurred,

      spitting a coal across the hearth.

      There came upon me of a sudden

      a moan of depth of pain and hurt,

      and of remarkable duration;

      nothing akin had I heard on Earth.

      I slowly cocked my head to listen,

      to note from whence the sound

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