Frozen Times

Not in a hurry
Nor on the run
Snow’s on the ground
Don’t miss the sun

Driving home
It’s dark and cold
The music’s fresh
The routine is old

I’m in a moment
Here and now
That frozen times
Can’t disavow.

Copyright © 2018 – Adam Light
Advertisements

Desk of Life

Sometimes I am a spinning top
Unstable and severe
And sometimes I’m a paper weight
Static and austere

I’m always on the desk of life
Peering off the edge
Or reading scribbled papers
While I spin around the ledge

But I proclaim there is no fate
Or if there is, I couldn’t know it
I can slink and sprawl
Or spin and fall
Or maybe just forego it.

Copyright © 2018 – Adam Light

A Single Leaf


Red and orange and yellow leaves
Carpeted the lot where my car was parked.
I crunched over them and inhaled the autumn air;
It was smoky cool and earthy fresh.
I peered down at the leaves – those abundantly scattered,
Dried up, crinkled relics of life,
And played with the idea of grabbing one.
I haven’t cared about a leaf since I was ten.
I drifted into the car seat, started the engine,
And noticed a single leaf held firmly by the windshield wiper.
It was curled and wrinkled, yet regal and robust,
And orange like the late evening October sky.
As I drove off, the leaf shivered in the cool wind
And I, uncharacteristically, rolled my window down.

Copyright © 2018 – Adam Light

Meanings


A snake had bit me
in my dream;
I grabbed it by the head.

Venom was in me,
it would seem,
so I whipped and beat it dead.

I looked for people
or a cure,
but I could find no aid,

and as I trudged on,
with pain so pure,
I forgot to be afraid.

I stopped to rest
beneath a tree
some time about midday,

and when I started
thinking free,
I knew that I would be okay.

What does it mean –
this dream I had?
I don’t think that there’s an answer.

You could examine
any tale and add
the legwork of a dancer.

I encounter things,
then make a choice
on how onward I shall go

and give little thought,
or little voice,
to meanings that I don’t bestow.

Copyright © 2018 – Adam Light

Disorder

 

Disorder, Disorder, my newly-found friend,
when Order finds me, our reign will end.

Judging and thinking I have not a base,
Order will swoop in and stifle my pace.

So please, Disorder, help me remember
that when freezing to death, you are my ember

and when trekking through these rigid lands
I can still create fire with my frozen hands.

That fire can roar and burn into the night
and signal old Order that we’ll be alright.

Peace

A budding peace
that I don’t know
surrounds my mind.

Thinking will cease
if I move slow
and act resigned.

If I move soon,
and think a lot,
I can evade

and be immune
to the onslaught
of peace’s aid.

And if I stay
who will I be?
And what is being?

I’ll find out today,
quite possibly;
I won’t be feeling.

Bite

Bite6 Poster

I see a human
across from me.
We’ve got no common
philosophy.

When I was alone
and judging rough,
I had no doubt
that I’d be tough.

But now, I’ve hopped up
like a goat;
my canine fangs
were just a gloat.

My wolf howl
is diminished, hid.
I’m just a gentle,
trustful kid.

Let it be known
that if I must,
I’ll put an end
to betrayed trust,

but I hope
we’ll be alright.
I’ll never be
the first to bite.

In Dreams

In dreams, you are alive,
and we glide and visit places
that we used to hike and laugh
with sunlit smiles on our faces.

Birds perch and sing;
snakes soak up the sun.
The topics we discuss are wild
and our meanderings are fun.

But heroin is sad and boring
and so, I think, is being dead.
On both accounts, you took a path
that only you would tread.

I never understood the craving;
I built a statue out of sticks,
and fished for answers in the river
while you went and got your fix.

You’re never coming back,
and the dreams will never end.
Waking life is so much better
when we hike around the bend.