Poetry

© Ben Adams

skeletons on sand

layers on
layers of words

and regret.
smooth wine and

smoke curling,
the shortness of breath.

idle hands mark shapes―
stick figures in the 5 a.m. dark.

waves lap towards
feet, and sea air is

drawn in by lips
that drain bottles.

there is the unseen
sun, edging up, and

stick figures like
skeletons traced

on sand, waiting
for the tide.

Published in On Dit (77.8) Eccentricity Edition

© Ben Adams

news flash in Gloom Cupboard Poetry #130 (January 2011)

jungle cat in Clutching at Straws (April 17, 2011)

Two Poems in Carcinogenic Poetry (November 28, 2011)

like cicadas in Clutching at Straws (December 5, 2011)

We’ve All Got to Eat in Gloom Cupboard Poetry #141 (January 2012)

Five Poems in Zygote in My Coffee Issue #137 (April 2012)

The Fractured Ones in Red Fez Issue 50 – Halloween Special (October 2012)

Two Poems in Dead Snakes (Monday, February 11, 2013)

waiting for thunder in The Camel Saloon (Sunday, February 24, 2013)

suburbs, dusk, the creature waits in The Camel Saloon (Feb 28, 2013)

last waltz in Gutter Eloquence Magazine #26 (April 2013)

Three Poems in Pyrokinection (Monday, April 29, 2013)

“love” in Australian Love Poems 2013 (August 2013) Purchase This Book

Two Poems in Poetry Pacific 2.3 (November  2013)

What I Hold In My Hand Like Destiny Or Death in Red Fez Issue 69 – The Sexy Issue (July 2014)

THE LAST NIGHT OF ERNEST HEMINGWAY’S LIFE in The Grapple Annual No. 1 (October 2014) Purchase

Tenochtitlan in Red Fez Issue 90 (June 2016)

ghost gum in Red Fez Issue 99 (April 2017)

© Ben Adams

free

free to be this season
I am free to fly
I am endlessness
too free even to die

free in the morning
in the evening’s auburn glow
upon the blue skies highway cloud
on the summer grass below

free to see the autumn sky
I am free to find
colour in the black & white
background of my mind

free to be apart from you
I am free to dream
of the moon & of the midday sun
& which I want to be

free as fallen raindrops
soaking deep into the earth
free to be let back in to
the arms that held me first

free to be a part of you
silence close my eyes
just as the moon must leave us
the sun must also rise

Published in On Dit (77.6) Environmental Edition

© Ben Adams

a clean, crisp winter

your absence
is an ache
that spreads through
everything.

memories
that linger
like perfume.
memories of being

alive in the
wintertime
speaking
about the world.

you wanted every part
of it.

more impressed
than me, in the end
with the
way of things.

remembered
warm cafes and
a feeling like the beauty
of a clean,
crisp winter.

a clear smooth accent
speaking
about the world.

you went back
to it.

leaving
a voice that spreads
like an ache
through
everything.

Published in On Dit (77.11) Nostalgia Edition

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One response to “Poetry

  1. Ben, I really enjoy your work. Thank you for the poetry section of your blog!

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