Best Dust Poems
No one followed her as she ran away
fleeing from the altar on her wedding day
She’d been jilted by Jed her handsome groom
so locked herself away in an unused attic room
The bride’s father went after Jed with a gun
you should have seen the coward run!
The desperate search for Judy was in vain
She didn’t respond when they called her name
Folks assumed she didn’t want to hang around
Many years passed by and she was never found
The house was auctioned after her parent’s died
They were buried at the churchyard side by side
The new house owners were in for a terrible shock
When they ventured upstairs and unpicked the lock
They found Judy’s skeletal body in her dress of lace
Cobwebs hung like curtains from her once lovely face
Jed’s dust covered photo lay in her hand
Judy never got to wear her wedding band
Dust Contest
Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
03~22~17
Looking back again, back into the past,
it was written in sand, all those questions we asked
on those last days of summer, something was wrong
as the leaves started turning, and shadows grew long
There was dust on the tables, and the clutter remained
where never before, .... had it not been restrained
You were known for your grace, now your pride was at risk
Quickly swept, polished fine, brushed away with a whisk
This just wasn't you, having bricks without mortar
You were never unkempt ...now a life out of order?
You would never have allowed such things out of place
Something so small, would have been your disgrace
There was something to blame, something was strange
Even small tasks, we noticed, had changed
Another piece of a puzzle, fell into place
Your trace of bewilderment, when a name was erased
Your memory lost, and a world gone absurd ...
Then, once it was you....alone and disturbed
Lost and afraid, but mostly confused
Forgetting the day, many things you would lose,
or someone you loved, so much undefined
shoved back to blind spaces, your words couldn't find
Dust motes collected where never before,
would settle, make home, in your mind evermore
Without any warning, without any sound
until you were gone, and the years fell around
Dreams that you had, were drawn in the sand
into the traces of dust of a far away land
_________________________________________________
Inspired by Isaiah Zerbst's Contest: "Pick a Title"
10/31/14
Dust
airborne
can settle
everywhere
It lands on tables and under your bed
It also clings to your computer screen
on clothes it goes
and of course
up your
nose
Pets
people
in your food
not in the mood
In the air, everywhere, I don’t care
You can have it mop, cloth, feather duster
I don’t want it
here or there
not one
bit
So
go clean
all over
dust if you must
Scratch me a note of “clean me” on my shelf
If I dust today it will just come back
everywhere
it settles
in my
home
Laughing, dancing, having the time of her life,
Faerie Fun went from mushroom house to toadstool cottage,
Spreading joy,
Playing with everyone
In a kind and pleasant way.
There was going to be no sadness
In Faerie Forest today if she could help it.
It is up to me, she said.
I am the catalyst for happiness today.
She ate breakfast with the Nymph family,
And they laughed about silly stuff,
But no people.
She watched Lila Leprechaun’s Lilliput dance,
And she clapped and clapped while
Mama Leprechaun took care of the
Unhappy baby. Baby calm. All is well.
Faerie Fun was soon skipping
Up the walk to the most challenging
House of all.
Change your attitude! She warned herself.
Change your attitude!
Her jaw was clamped tightly shut now, and she
Was already filled with dread.
Pixie Dust! Her internal voice yelled. NOW!
The sparkly particles surrounded her, and settled down all over her, calming her instantly, and
Changing her attitude from not-so-great to wonderful.
Before she left Grump-Eater’s house, he gave her a long, lingering hug. No one gets me like you, he said.
Progress at last.
Sometimes it is simply a matter of us changing our attitude.
It was the last year of high school and there was a lack of beaux,
But then I got an invite. Whew, that was close!
So now the Prom was coming and I was going to go!
Mom gassed up for the city, headed out with me in tow,
Big stores all hunched together on a tall and scary street,
One dress along a rack with just repeat, repeat, repeat.
But Mom found a creation in an entirely different place,
Moulded tulle and satin, fairy dust and moonlit lace!
I thought she was kidding though the thing was just my size.
I was worried; fairy tales don't often turn out to be wise.
And the price tag is ridiculous! I said Mom take a look!
She plunked it down determinedly, tore a check out of the book.
That left a lot for me to do. My looks are commonplace.
New makeup and new lipstick; how about new face?
Silken shoes, a tiny purse, it's a lot of stress
Just trying to live up to this fantastic dress!
Rhinestone droplets dangle dangerous from my ear,
My long hair piled up high. How much taller I appear!
Prom night came...Poor Tommy! I was done up to impress.
My hair swept up, my makeup on, long earrings and the Dress!
He stood there in the doorway, uncertain in his tux,
Black tie, stiff shirt; this is getting all too much!
The corsage he held between us was carnations glowing red.
He looked up cautiously and ventured; "Is that you, Bo?" he said.
Cool raindrops kiss my cheeks
A warm breeze rises within me
As I recall the moments
Which linger in my heart forever
The pulsating sphere of light and dark
Polar opposite lovers in the circle of life
Encompassing magnificent visceral nuances
Infinite shades of gray, slate, and steel
With mauve interludes
An elegant intimate tapestry
Complete with tears of joy and pain
Sharing love and grief
Gazing upwards I join my brothers and sisters
On jagged bare branches
As cool wind rustles our feathers
The white hawks, eagles, vultures, and their tribes
The birds of prey who gather
Sharing tales of their journeys through time
We all stare out
Our senses prickling with anticipation
A silence hovers
A shared glimpse
A collective inhale
Our ears and hearts awaken
Virgin raindrops fall on thirsty ferns
Their limey tendrils outstretched
Quenched in gratitude
A low rumble
Footsteps below
A clearing in the forest
Created by children gathering
Giggles and dust rise
Excited young mouths
Speaking in pantomime
Gesturing with kind intentions
Young creatures of the world kingdom
Unconcerned with language barriers
Sharing evolving consciousness
A wink of an eye
Hands on chest - feeling our heartbeats
Laughter emanating from within little bellies
Spinning freely in circles
Arms outstretched wide, heart open and exposed
Vulnerable in delight and anticipation
A low cello vibrates nearby
A gentle breeze rustles leaves
Which float in the air embracing light rays
Mesmerizing all
Pine boughs perform shadow puppet dances
On cascading rock walls nearby
Elders lean contently against tree trunks
Smiles slowly emerging as silent tears flow
A young child skips over
Tenderly grabbing her grandfather’s arm
Opening his hand, she plants a wet kiss
On his age-stained palm
Then gazes up at his toothy grin
Before returning to the gathering
Wild beasts arrive and quiet
Kneeling by water’s edge
To drink and watch
Hands clasp
A sharing ensues
A vibration rises
As souls gather
Radiating light and hope to all
Flowers In Your Hair, Gold Dust On Your Trailing Gown
( Robert Lindley and Nicola Byrne )
Flowers in your hair, gold dust on your trailing gown
You my true sky angel, had floated right on down.
Golden sandals on your feet, toenails glowing white
All eternity shan’t see a prettier sight.
Your soft and gentle voice, a million ways of sweet
Your touch is my hope and your kiss, love-food to eat.
Each moment a true blessing, you my darling gave
Each dance your gift, healing treasures, my heart to save.
Love of my life, sing softest hymns to this lost soul
For before you came, sorrows took a heavy toll.
Know darling, this heart and spirit you have thus healed,
Should fate deny us, with love, truth has been revealed.
Now every balmy breeze that blows against my skin,
Resonant of your kisses, brings a joyous grin.
In the sun’s warm splendour, a halo I doth see
Shine upon the waters, where love’s eyes swim to me.
And every now and then, blessed with rains from above,
I feel your tender touch, the glory of your love.
Your scent, like fragrant blossoms, straight from heaven’s lawn
Exhilarates the senses, waking me each dawn.
Firm witness is the world, to thy healing powers
and graceful presence, bringing halcyon hours.
All that I envision, to turn around a frown:
Flowers in your hair, gold dust on your trailing gown.
Collaboration by Robert J. Lindley and Nicola Byrne
5-22-2017
In the maze of concrete and glass,
where tall buildings reach the sky,
rivers of money flow,
but only to the chosen few.
Below, a shadowy city exists,
filled with hard work and grime,
where dreams are just whispers,
lost in the cracks of old streets.
The rich, wrapped in fine clothes,
dance to the tune of hidden power,
leaders of a silent orchestra,
playing a song of silence and control.
Their laughter, touched with champagne,
drowns out the cries from below,
where rough, tired hands,
reach for fleeting hopes.
Halls of influence, slick with promises,
echo with the steps of the elite,
their words, hidden daggers,
cutting through the truth.
In this theater of lies,
curtains of wealth hide
the machinery of greed,
oiled by the sweat of unseen millions.
From high-rise penthouses,
they look down on a sea of struggle,
where the hungry feast on illusions,
and the thirsty drink from wells of despair.
Marble palaces stand tall,
monuments to ambition,
while shanties lean on faith,
held up by pillars of resilience.
Markets buzz with chaos,
colors blend in the bazaar of life,
where the weight of a single coin
can tip the balance of existence.
Yet, the streets remember,
each cobblestone a witness,
to the dance of disparity,
the waltz of inequality.
Children of the dusk,
eyes wide with innocence,
navigate the alleys of shadows,
their dreams painted in hues of maybe.
In the rooms where fortunes are made,
decisions are inked in secrecy,
pacts that seal destinies,
unseen hands shaping the world.
But in the heart of the storm,
a murmur grows,
a rhythm of defiance,
beating against the pulse of oppression.
Voices rise, a chorus of unity,
challenging the gilded throne,
for in the contrast of gold and dust,
lies the spark of revolution.
The streets, arteries of rebellion,
pulse with the lifeblood of change,
as the fabric of corruption
begins to fray at the edges.
In the end,
from the ashes of greed,
a new dawn will rise,
where the scales of justice
find their balance,
and the city of gold
is built on a foundation
of humanity's unyielding spirit.
Since time immemorial across the Universe—
Traces of my vapor, my dust trails, my footprints, my being
Light up the skies of innumerable planets etching themselves
Indelibly in the consciousness of the stars and making visible
Impressions in the cold continuum of deep dark space.
I’m mere particle matter—in reality, an iota of infinity that
Continues its travel through time and space and all dimensions
Visiting the vast frontiers of the Universe while leaving minute
Traces of my Cosmic DNA.
I’m part of the Universe’s great existential family—
My quest is to travel, to arrive, to be one with everything I touch,
And to savor a continuous divine purpose.
What unbounding possibilities there are as I traverse the far
Outreaches of dark space on Flight Paths of Eternity.
And sometimes I’m a part of rainbows that kiss the Face of God.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (March 24, 2014)
(Free Verse)
There once was a housewife named Claire
Who shook out her mop in the air
The dust whirled like stars
The Earth, Moon, and Mars-
Who’s shaking a dust mop up there?
Some places exist which folks need to clean,
like deep in a closet or under a bed.
Such spots get ignored because they’re unseen.
Those in plain view get attention instead!
Some children exist we choose to ignore,
for they are not ours. They live out of sight.
Unwanted, unloved, and rarely cared for;
some rich, others poor - they share the same plight.
Their life is a darkness where they’ve been thrown.
They are gathering dust; no voice have they.
Their sorrows are only to God fully known -
these dust bunnies, growing more filthy each day.
They are the future, and in a short time
they will have become society’s grime.
Ending a hot day
On the back of a lizard
Crusty desert dust
The Holy Dust of Creation’s Seed Sown
Born from this ancient dust of creation's seed sown now so true,
Whilst sparkling inside a mystical divine light on this dark night,
I’m nourished from the living waters—the oceans deep and blue.
Majestic wings rise high in the waves basking in Heaven’s light,
Crowning the blest halo golden ring around this angel very dear,
Whilst I kiss warmly the salt of the deep oceans stirring at night.
Spiced now in a seabed, a rainbow’s gem shineth pure so clear,
That a traveler in this radiant world of delight knows real love
Is what we all seek as sparkling diamonds now appear so near.
Where the rivers flow down a mountain’s verdant slope because
There, in the highs and lows of these rivers, tears soak the Earth,
Falling and rising from the dust, ashes are memories of what was.
I have abounding faith in this life’s bond as Nature begins her rebirth,
Eclipsed by a peerless beauty inside, wild passions grown now strong.
A liquid sphere appears in our mortal lives reaching its point of girth.
In the cerulean oceans mystic gulls cry deep echoes bringing us along.
We find peace kneeling as a psychic mantel covers our thoughts pure,
As that special circle of brilliance radiates within life’s treat so strong.
By God’s hand the ancient dust of creation’s seed is with us to assure,
Mankind’s perpetuity on Earth as part of His most holy divine vision.
Only God knows mankind’s destiny rests in His divine hands for sure.
The ancient dust of creation’s seed is part of God’s omnipotent precision,
For He’s the one who shall guide us all heavenward by His final decision.
Gary Bateman, Michael Clarke, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
June 10, 2017 (Terza Rima)
Terza Rima Rhyming Sequence: aba bcb cdc ded efe fgf ghg hh
Format Note: This poem employs the traditional rhyming scheme used by
Dante Alighieri in “The Divine Comedy,” ending with a couplet, rhyming
with the previous tercet’s middle line.
In open space free
Steel and glass enclosure
A small moving space confined
My possession of pride
Momentum propelled by young drive
A companion of trust.
The wingless bird
Tunneled timid air
Dust trailed the motion
Distance to sunrise horizon
Contracted like an accordion
Music under the bonnet.
Tread of twenty turning years
Took abrasive toll on patina of past
My adored Fiat Padmini senile
Rusted in immobile inertia
Old jalopy’s journey to junkyard
Raised the last dust
From the debris of my heart.
Written : July 22, 2019
May 19, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice L
Sponsor : Brian Strand
As I Walk Hard Narrow Path, Dust In My Mouth
I walk hard narrow path, dust in my mouth
Just a poor farm-boy, born in the dear South,
With edges slippery and turns so quick
Oft so weary, too often so damn sick.
Trudging on through, into midnight's dark cast
Praying my courage will forever last,
And in my dreams, I meet my angel here
She of sweetest heart and devoid of fear.
Each new sunset , I watch those red-burnt rays
Muttering words, as only poor boy prays,
In wind's soft blows, I hear, "patience rewards"
Step thee lively, avoid the broken shards!
I walk hard narrow path, dust in my mouth
Just a poor farm-boy, born in the dear South.
R.J. Lindley ,
July 11th, 1973
Sonnet, ( Working on the farm before sun-up until after sunset)
Note: I decided this morn, to bring this one right on out of my private journal.
Hope you may enjoy it, as I wrote it at age 19..
Any that worked on the farms in the 60-s, 70's, and 80's, will certainly get this..