Members Profile


Adam M. Snow
Adam M. Snow El Mirage / United States, Male, 27
Profession :
Poet/writer, Philosopher & Photographer
Education :
High School
Stage
544 Points

About Me : Adam M. Snow was born May 30th of 1988 in Phoenix, Arizona. He currently lives in El Mirage, a small rural town in the western Arizona. Adam is Shakespeare’s tenth ... more »

This list shows most recent 10 activities.
Activities Date
Poems read  
2/2/2015 1:46:00 AM
2/2/2015 1:51:00 AM
Poems Rated  
10/26/2013 3:00:00 PM
4/11/2014 11:10:00 PM
4/7/2014 9:22:00 PM
4/7/2014 9:21:00 PM
7/27/2012 4:35:00 PM
7/26/2012 11:25:00 PM
9/20/2013 7:29:00 PM
9/20/2013 7:12:00 PM
9/20/2013 12:19:00 PM
7/7/2012 3:49:00 PM
Poems Liked  
7/25/2014 3:34:50 AM
8/26/2014 3:22:27 PM
7/17/2014 8:00:02 PM
8/13/2014 5:58:09 PM
7/25/2014 6:41:40 PM
Poet Liked  
7/15/2014 2:14:34 PM

Latest 5 Poems of Adam M. Snow

Read all 213 poems »

Adam M. Snow's last comments on poems and poets

  • (1/12/2015 10:12:00 AM)

    Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it

  • (9/23/2014 12:28:00 AM)

    Thank you for your kind words

  • (9/23/2014 12:27:00 AM)

    Thank you for your kind comment

Read all 7 comments »

Adam M. Snow's comments on forums

  • Adam M. Snow (2/3/2015 8:21:00 PM) Post reply

    I've been working on this poem since Sunday night... The fog that morning was what inspired me.

    A Visitor in the Morning Fog
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    Oh, what a stage this morning break;
    on waking to a misty light.
    My heart is weak, I feel it ache
    upon this morning sight.

    So thick the fog the dawn opaque,
    which blocks the morning bright.
    Unlike the sun my heart won't hide,
    nor in the fog where it dwells.

    And even though with all my pride,
    this hateful heart, I knew so well,
    had left this man alone to stride
    in this small smoky hell.

    But in this fog a creature stirs,
    with wings to which to flutter.
    And though my eyes a blur,
    I hear those wings begin to sputter.

    But if it is as I should infer,
    'tis some black bird aflutter.
    To be here now where I have stood
    amidst the winter's fog.

    It perched itself upon a wood,
    a branch that fell into a log;
    as nature shaped itself, it would
    remove the gowans frae the bog.

    O blackened creature piercing eyes,
    It pierces my soul and steals my heart.
    I hear its scornful cries
    as it rips my soul apart.

    As truth be told, I dare not lie;
    I cannot cease this beating heart.
    The crow that craves its carrion,
    can never hide from me.

    The pair of us shall carry on
    in this fog, no men can see.
    Nor shall they hear its clarion,
    its squawking in an offset key.

    It mocks me with its devilish stare,
    in this fog upon this stage.
    Such risk this foulest bird would dare,
    then as to assuage
    the gripes of this a smoky air
    in a fog-like cage.

    It speaks to me on this wise,
    " I shall never let you die."
    said he with his scornful cries,
    spreading wings now as to fly.

    That ol' bird now on arise,
    soaring to the sun on high.
    Now I'm left alone to ponder,
    who or what that crow may be.

    Alone am I left to wander,
    while that bird is flying free.
    In the mist now yonder,
    I am stricken with this misery.

    For it twas I the darkened bird,
    that tore my soul apart;
    Stole my voice, my words,
    my virgin beating heart.

    I feel this day absurd;
    cursed me since the start.

  • Adam M. Snow (2/3/2015 8:20:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I've been working on this poem since Sunday night... The fog that morning was what inspired me.

    A Visitor in the Morning Fog
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    Oh, what a stage this morning break;
    on waking to a misty light.
    My heart is weak, I feel it ache
    upon this morning sight.

    So thick the fog the dawn opaque,
    which blocks the morning bright.
    Unlike the sun my heart won't hide,
    nor in the fog where it dwells.

    And even though with all my pride,
    this hateful heart, I knew so well,
    had left this man alone to stride
    in this small smoky hell.

    But in this fog a creature stirs,
    with wings to which to flutter.
    And though my eyes a blur,
    I hear those wings begin to sputter.

    But if it is as I should infer,
    'tis some black bird aflutter.
    To be here now where I have stood
    amidst the winter's fog.

    It perched itself upon a wood,
    a branch that fell into a log;
    as nature shaped itself, it would
    remove the gowans frae the bog.

    O blackened creature piercing eyes,
    It pierces my soul and steals my heart.
    I hear its scornful cries
    as it rips my soul apart.

    As truth be told, I dare not lie;
    I cannot cease this beating heart.
    The crow that craves its carrion,
    can never hide from me.

    The pair of us shall carry on
    in this fog, no men can see.
    Nor shall they hear its clarion,
    its squawking in an offset key.

    It mocks me with its devilish stare,
    in this fog upon this stage.
    Such risk this foulest bird would dare,
    then as to assuage
    the gripes of this a smoky air
    in a fog-like cage.

    It speaks to me on this wise,
    " I shall never let you die."
    said he with his scornful cries,
    spreading wings now as to fly.

    That ol' bird now on arise,
    soaring to the sun on high.
    Now I'm left alone to ponder,
    who or what that crow may be.

    Alone am I left to wander,
    while that bird is flying free.
    In the mist now yonder,
    I am stricken with this misery.

    For it twas I the darkened bird,
    that tore my soul apart;
    Stole my voice, my words,
    my virgin beating heart.

    I feel this day absurd;
    cursed me since the start.

  • Adam M. Snow (1/25/2015 5:47:00 PM) Post reply

    A Poem
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    What I see
    beyond the horizon glow.
    Beyond the hues of purple and gold.
    Beyond the setting sun
    and the glittering of the bluish sea.
    I see a coming birth,
    a new day,
    new beginning.
    I see hope.

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