Restless
waves of the sea,
Dead with oil and mercury,
Casting up the foam of their own shame;
And the fruitless trees in Autumn
Are uprooted from the bottom,
They're all twice-dead and we can take the blame.
And overpopulation
Is enough to starve a nation
Without paying farmers not to grow their corn.
And somehow we keep wishin'
For an honest politician.
Seems the fabric of humanity is torn.
Only breathe, and it's plain
All those dark clouds hold no rain,
And I sincerely hope that you can see
That we're going to have to pay
The price for all this decay,
The product of our modern industry.
1970 Clay Adams
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Remember when you were a kid?
Your life was a bed of roses
Without a thorn among them.
You and your friend took turns
Pushing the swing.
You ran in the meadow
With your cousin,
And investigated mysteries of nature -
Like hornet's nests.
You and your friend told each other
What you would do when you grew up.
You wanted to be a sailor,
Or a President,
A fireman or a clown.
You would be the best,
Whatever you were,
And people would know it.
So what happened to you,
You grumpy old goat?
1972 Clay Adams
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Hey, pretty girl,
Do you know I exist?
And do you ever think
There is something you missed?
Then take down your facade,
And be real, just for once.
You might like it.
I can see in your eyes
You are someone for me.
But your eyes are blinded
And you can't see me.
I could show you the world
Through my eyes, if you want.
You might like it.
There's Truth in the world,
And Beauty abounds.
Just open your eyes
And see what surrounds
The mass-media culture
Where all are the same.
You might like it.
All we need do
Is to change our perception.
We'll just live our lives
In a different direction.
We'll feel what is real
And forget all the rest.
Wanna try it?
1972 Clay Adams
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"The Trek"
I see a long, long corridor,
As in an old hotel.
A thousand doors on either side,
Behind each door, a cell.
The angles of the hallway
All draw toward a single spot.
I don't know if the hallway ends
Or goes on through, or what.
Behind each door, a person lives
His life alone, like me.
I'd like to visit him and join
In warm camaraderie.
I used to knock on every door
And greet all with a smile.
Since then, I must have gone a ways,
Mile after lonely mile.
When was it I stopped knocking
And went down the hall alone?
When was it I stopped hoping -
Was all hope really gone?
It's true that I've been turned away,
But I have healed my sores.
I'll go on just a little way
And knock on the very next door.
I'll go on knocking, hope in hand,
And hand my hope along.
I'll whistle down the corridor
Or sing a favorite song.
I'll try again, again, and when
I come upon your cell,
I'll say, "Friend, let me in,
Because I'd like to know you well."
1974 Clay Adams
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"Wrong self-diagnosis - 1975"
Without the sense of here and now,
But with one of escape,
So many souls live out their lives
Unconscious of their fate.
Smiling at the world as though
They wore a pleading mask,
Wanting everything in it,
But oh! Afraid to ask.
Keeping their defenses drawn
To keep them from the pain.
Not knowing that the pleasure's gone.
Not-knowing keeps them sane.
The world's a strange and hostile place
To those who cannot feel.
They know of two realities,
They don't know which is real.
But what has made them turn away
With anger and with shame?
How'd it happen, who did what,
Oh, who's to take the blame?
A childhood of rejection where
Not love, but hate was taught?
Did they have drunken parents,
Or had their parents fought?
The ill-begotten misfit
On everyone's schoolyard,
Will grow up to be a schizoid
And find that life is - hard.
Afraid to speak, afraid to breathe,
Afraid to laugh or cry,
Was all this caused by lack of love
In long-lost days gone by?
A home of hate and chaos
Is where the mold is cast,
But why do they go on guarding
Even though the danger's past?
The God which is within us,
In them, controls too well.
They make a minor error,
And damn themselves to hell.
In seeking to recapture
The joy of living life,
They must go back in time to find
The reason for their strife.
They journey through despair as they
Into their memories delve.
At long last, they're aghast to find
They did it - to themselves.
Oh schizoids of the world, unite
Your body with your soul.
Why settle for a half of life
When you can have the whole?
1975 Clay Adams
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"Daisies"
Beautiful daisies,
all covered with soot,
are just like the people
who are under the foot
of big-money interests,
all covered with shame,
exploiters of labor -
on whom is the blame
of letting them do it,
that terrible sin,
of dirtying daisies
and dirtying men.
1980 Clay Adams
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"Three Years Later"
No, I'll never forget the first time our lips met,
We were sitting on the bank of the Genesee River.
Then we walked on the pier at Charlotte, it was dear
In my mind and I know that it will be forever.
My heart cries out for you, though the memories were few.
I still treasure every moment I can possibly remember.
I still call out your name, and I still feel the same,
Though I know that in your mind our love is just a dying ember.
I remember so much, I remember your touch,
And darling, don't you know that I've saved every letter?
They'll remind me of you when I'm seventy two,
But I'm not sure that by then I'll feel any better.
Won't you spare me this pain, and just call me again,
To tell me the real reason why we had to part that way?
I don't know if you lied just to me, or to yourself,
But I know that I will love you, just until I pass away.
1987 Clay Adams
"Addendum"
Fare thee well, dear heart.
Memories of you are not forgotten here.
Thy loveliness is easily recalled,
Clearly etched, kept in a special place.
Fare thee well, my love.
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"A Whole Better World"
I
can imagine a whole better world,
Where people don't laugh at each other's pain.
A world where the sun shines on everyone,
And one's well-being is everyone's gain.
Must
we, in fact, feed off each other?
Fool the unwary, to sell our wares?
Why not just look after each other?
Why couldn't we make their cares - our cares?
This
world of mine exists within,
And here I sit, just all alone,
Prisoner of prophetic vision,
Prisoner of the Twilight Zone.
The
good news is that this world will be,
And love of our fellow man exist,
Throughout all of Eternity,
Is how I see it - through the mist.
Clay
Adams 2000
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"Sailing on a Breeze"
Wisdom
is found in everything,
Even the shape of a leaf.
To forget this, my friend,
Can bring on your end,
Or leave you capsized on a reef.
That
reef can hold you fast, until
You're out of supplies, or sink.
To be full of "oughts",
And out of fresh thoughts,
Your old ones soon start to stink.
A
zephyr of fresh breeze could blow,
And free you from malaise;
Refresh your thoughts,
Drive out your "oughts",
And guide you to better days.
Decisions
belong to everyone,
To stay, or hoist your sail.
Whither we go,
Only God knows,
But shall we not trust in His gale?
Clay Adams 2000
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