Ode to Crumbs

when I eat
a cake
of chocolate,
Crumbs are everywhere
All over the counter
my hand
the floor
a mess everywhere
tiny islands on
the counter
meaningless
though I can't help
but pay attention
to crumbs
on my hand
my counter
my floor
all over the place
why are they so obssesive?
small

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poem by John McAdam
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Red Apple, Red Apple

Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer

Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole

Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?

Red apple
Red apple

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poem by John McAdam
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Candy for Breakfast

MMM!
candy for breakfast!
cake for dinner!
all such a wonderful
idea

I dont care
if I get cavities
I just want some
more sweets!

MMM! main course comming up
sweet tarts, delicious,
but I'd rather have
just a few taffys

Why not throw in a few
sprinkles, hershys, taffys,
cream, cake, sugar, vanilla

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poem by John McAdam
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A Horse For Dinner

A horse A horse
My kingdom for a horse,
A horse A horse
For the main course

Muscles of might
Pulled so tight,
A body of organs
All for a meal

Why a horse?
Why not a deer?
A horse does the work,
A deer will just peer

A horse is strong
a deer has no uses,
so there for a deer
suffers the abuses

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poem by John McAdam
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Tired in Class

Caught in a web
can't sleep
your eyes does
your name is called
pay attention!
you always sleep in class
you'll never amount to anything
the same scolding as yesterday
as tomorow
though it's all just mummble
as you dose
so many meaningless thoughts
in your head
so tired
your chair is a mattress
your rock hard arms are a pillow
your clothes are a blanket
yet your instructer
tells you not to sleep
so tired

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poem by John McAdam
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Sestina: War

There is nothing like war
But a fire
Plaguing the land
Spreading rapidly
Hurting those who cant prevent pain
Destroying those who are innocent

The destruction of fire
Guns spraying bullets rapidly
Blood seeping into the land
Not only death, but torture and pain
Killing those who are innocent
All for the cause of war

A marsh of green land
Destroyed by red fire
Turning a once plushed land to char, rapidly
And bringing pain to the innocent
To further on the war
For a point to cause national pain

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poem by John McAdam
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