About Adagio



I am not gifted of write...I enjoy it, enough said. I own a bookshop and watch people...what they read tells me things. I graduated with a degree in Philosophy and Psychology, which doesn't mean a thing when dealing with egos. I detest wooden hearts and lost souls...we all know what they are.

I'm not into braggadocios or BS for attention. And not looking for awards to fill out my obituary. I gave up playing silly games and exaggeration many years ago, It seems many haven't.

Local Time:
19 Oct 2018 13:56
Books, people, art and peanut butter sandwiches. In my off time, I write or work around my house.
I live on 223 acres of swamp land. I like to mingle with my friends and at times I perform in local theater. However, my bookshop takes up most of my time.
Favorite Books:
I have many.
Favorite Authors:
One's that hold my attention
Favorite Movies:
The John Adams series (HBO)
Favourite TV Shows:
i'm a news hound...CNN or Public Television
Favorite Music:
Progressive jazz and raw blues


Date Joined:
22 Oct 2013
Last Visit:
19 Oct 2018
Page Viewed:
5,153 times
Days in Chat:
Days on Site:
Forum Posts:

Adagio's Friends

Favourite Stories Adagio's story followers »

No favourite stories listed.

back to top

Stories Published By Adagio All Stories »

Penny Bubble Gum

When life was slower, and we pushed lawnmowers. Adjusted the rabbit ears just to watch test patterns. I often wonder where the good old days have gone. So many memories ago. When I was a sprout, knee-high to a yardstick and there was penny bubble, and Dick Tracy. Mom would sing me songs and granny snapped beans. The Good Lord watched from above as grandpa spit tobacco in a Mason Jar,...

Added 19 Oct 2018 | Category Musings | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 11 | 2 Comments

Shutter The Winds

Barren of thoughts with my pen with a fuddle of the time, and no ghost to shutter winds, leaving in caravans.   As my ink has gone to dust with the way of my mind, and seance with the tarot, in conversation with my muse.   With my muse snuggled against me thoughts wander with the fuddle of time, my pen lays silently collecting dust, as I explore the musk of my muse.   With a fuddle of the...

Added 18 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 0 | Avg Score 0 | Views 59

Itty Bits

Itty bits of darkness crept through our window As the sun fell over the horizon in itty bits And the moon rose as if an orange mitten   With itty bits of stars twinkling like chandeliers And as the eyes of autumn leaves spawned Itty bits of dew caressed the lawn And the moon rose as if an orange mitten As we made love in itty bits before the dawn  ...

Added 17 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 0 | Avg Score 0 | Views 54

And Swizzle Sticks

As ticking of the clock echoed a staccato,    I in my nightshirt up to my lips in cups   in conversation with gins inebriation, and swizzle sticks. While specters toast my longevity and visions of night promenade,   a who's who in my mind's parade, as Old Nick rocked and rolled.   As ticking of the clock echoed a staccato, and as my lust turned to robust, I heard the humming of bush-hogs as...

Added 16 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 1 | Avg Score 5 | Views 59 | 1 Comment

A Midnight Calling

As my ink drips a midnight calling Soliloquy of leaves falling Falling about my window   With eyes of October's frost   Of my lust burning For your lips of cellophane   And your raven-blue hair    Like wings on your pillow As you whisper love with a kiss And a moonlit shudder Accompanied by angels So rare the trilling of doves Soliloquy of leaves falling On a rainbow's sliding As my ink...

Added 14 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 97

Wardrobe Of Gold

As your lips of gossamer touched my soul I felt the winding threads of gold Weave me new poet's clothes Of words for lovers behind the shutters As autumn's spell fell upon the woods Of oak and thyme   So fair the ribbons in your hair   Flow on pillow of an angel's down   As the mahogany oboes play Spiritual winds praying for our sins An if my only transgression is loving you    Then I am a...

Added 13 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 64

Obsidian Rainbow

In the distance of a dream, beneath a dark obsidian rainbow   with a spoonful of the tempest. As autumn chilled at my elbow and my pen dried up, in The Holy Grail of my well. Giving up to the dust in the pot, and feeling your zephyr breath of long tooth as fingers saunter. Over my shadow as we make love,   beneath a dark obsidian rainbow, in The Holy Grail of my well....

Added 11 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 1 | Avg Score 5 | Views 78 | 1 Comment


In midnight tipsy, tipsy over you And out the window a tipsy blue Of a full moon and autumn's acorns As stardust rains from tipsy shoes And gnomes dance on garden lawn In tipsy dreams as lovers sing A tipsy winds blows a mondegreen Tripping over tipsy until dawn On my stagger knees as we kiss ...

Added 09 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 68 | 1 Comment

Howling Winds

While howling winds corralled my pen Poetically conceived in hibernation Bound by catechisms of erstwhile poets Who now rest in orchards of stones Bearing trees of souls in Valhalla Giving me seeds that sowed my oats Of a silhouette of the impending dawn My words giving breath of my yawn While howling winds corralled my pen Masturbating instead of intercourse Because I lost my way along...

Added 05 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 3 | Avg Score 5 | Views 135 | 3 Comments

Tanner of Sixpence

In my cups intoxicated by love Bequiled by sensuality And a tanner of sixpence As shadows dance in woods None the richer than me   With a bee in my bonnet As your lips of honey mead Caress my lusting chest Bequiled by sensuality And a tanner of sixpence As God look's over our shoulder   On sunset's lullaby    ...

Added 04 Oct 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 3 | Avg Score 5 | Views 106 | 3 Comments

Stories Coauthored By Adagio

Cries Within

Symbiotic acceptance of surroundings Within a walkabout of my precursory life No longer hindered by foolish intention Yet buoyed by new relevance Witnessed not with eyes But with humility   Majestic trees of the forest Tall spirits they stand Whispering unknown melodies As the boughs transcend Leaves caressing my soul As my ink compose Like moaning cellos forgot Hearing...

Added 10 Sep 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 134 | 4 Comments

Turning Around

It was at the grist's mill, like I had seen a ghost, of the corn that stood, on the back forty grow, in green with eyes like onyx, as my pulse skipped a beat. Where tombstones sleep without a moaning peep, and the raven's nest where monks took keep, as the frost froze over the Dutch clover. And I felt a breath over my shoulder, while counting the sheep, turning around and saw my ghostly...

Added 06 May 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 174 | 2 Comments

back to top

Attach a note to this member, which only you can see.

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this profile page is inappropriate.