Best Eat Dirt Poems
I grew up in Middletown, where everything was pretty much average.
Every house, every car, every mom, dad and every kid were all
just about the same. Except for Paul Locke. Paul was the only Jewish
kid on the block. But that wasn't what made him different.
Paul could eat dirt and seemed to enjoy doing so. Someone would say,
"show'em Paul", and he would. Sand, red clay, loam, dust, it didn't
seem to matter. Paul would reach down and grab a handful, choke it
down and then laugh uncontrollably at his accomplishment. He was at
his best in those hot July and August days when we hadn't seen rain all
summer.
Thinking back on it, I don't believe I ever saw him do mud.
I suppose even being different must have its limits.
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11/03/2016
My feet drowned water
My fingers ate dirt
My mouth failed filth
My heart beat yours
While trying to kick habits
You silenced my life
Suffocated spring rain
Melted snow white pleasure
Innocence excluded
My eyes burned charcoal
My toes grew deep roots
My waist encircled
Your hate with metal
Today your cold bed
Will wither and wilt away
The story I needed to tell you
I take with me without regret
Our story ends here.
Mine now begins.
***
April 8, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
I have lost a lot of friends
A lot of my friends from back then
Time has stolen them from me
I am not even certain
Of how they met their end ‘
But you specifically
Do you remember
In Nursery school, we used to play
Eat dirt, swing and slay monsters all-day
But now I can’t even remember your name
Rest in peace my friend You will always live as a part of me
I have lost a lot of friends
A lot of my friends from back then
The distance between us stole them from me
I am not even certain
If their end was excruciating or sudden and easy
But you specifically.
Do you remember?
In primary school
you always let me copy mathematics
When Mrs. Githafu was checking and marking
We were at the back bench laughing waiting for breaks
Just so we could play
I am so sorry I can’t even remember your name
It’s been too long since then
Rest in peace my friend You will always live as a part of me
I have lost a lot of friends
A lot of my friends from back then
Life just stole them from me
I am not even certain
If in the end they saw a light or was it just darkness?
But you specifically.
Do you remember?
We met during the music festivals
Back in Nakuru, when we were in high school
Some of my friends who are dead like you
Pushed me to say hi
I remember your smile, it was so beautiful
Your replies, you were so kind
But your name
I am so sorry I can’t remember your name
Rest in peace my friend You will always live as a part of me
I have lost a lot of friends
A lot of my friends from back then
My search for more stole them from me
Buried under the thousands of followers just for the sake of numbers
But you specifically.
Do you remember?
I remember the excitement of my first Facebook friend
Back in 09’
my first Instagram post with a double tap
Back in 12’
They were all from you, my biggest friend I never met
But you forgot to send me an invite to your burial
Still, I can’t quite remember your name
Rest in peace my friend You will always live as a part of me
I stand within these walls of comfort, Called freedom. While in every corner of this world, My siblings die. Brothers and sisters of earth, Struggling for hope. My vagabond mind wanders in circles, Searching for answers. Still, questions hang like dead fog, Which never lifts. Explosions of pain that ears can hear, Waking my eyes in morning papers. Wars giving less than nothing, Smother my senses in useless regret. So many feeling so sorry, Yet simply changing channels. Compassion being a dirty word, Those elite few have come to despise. While walls they've built soon crush them, Beneath weight of their own insincerity. Intellectual nitwits, Unaware of their bottomless ignorance. Marching beneath a banner of confusion, They proudly do wave. All the while chanting, Let the common ones eat dirt. As their warm apple pies quietly cool, On selfish shelves. As unfortunate mothers loudly weep in despair, Watching their children expire. These ones of power do not hear those sounds of death, Only their greed raging out of control in a battle outside.
Temporary housing for the quick and the dead,
Lucky ones get to leave on occasion
But nothing is certain and medicine an art.
Life’s a vacation from hospital beds,
The one you are born in,
The ones that catch you off guard,
The one you will likely die in as well.
Happiness is always a carnival ride,
And though you are caught up in the novelty,
It doesn’t last and is seldom free,
No matter how short it seems.
Cleanliness to ward off the evil spirits?
Now there’s a joke we all can love!
The most protected of children
Can be among the first to die!
Mothers! Let you kids eat dirt!
Germs that don’t kill might save their life!
Toughness isn’t always taught.
Nature’s House rules are not always kind,
She usually has the winning hand
And sometimes hides cards up her sleeve.
Still life’s the only game we know
Whatever cards we may be dealt.
When you argue for the soul,
You just piss against the wind...
And yet, without a true creator God,
(And a loving one at that),
Is there really meaning to be found?
What hope has Love in love?
Long Tooth
December 14, 2016
Baby, You're not mine
I'm not giving you the time
I'm too busy
writing my lines
in sweetness sublime
Baby, Get away
I don't want to play
With
Your sandbox of toys
Your mommy took away
I'll drive my Tonka truck
All over your face
To release you games
Don't you cry
at me in shame
I'll make you eat dirt
written
all over your face
Don't even think of
playing emotional trains
You'll get a reward
when my Tonka is floored
You will think twice
before I play nice
Damn,
Your not my type
I think of you
like lice
Scratching my head
with evil intent
Just go away
I don't want to play
I have my own toys
Being a tomboy
My Tonkas are rockin
yours, are sweet nothing
Let's give them away
and play another day
She was my sandbox love,
When we were just kids
The one I dared to eat dirt
My hero, when she did
My enemy, when she said
Your turn now and I double dog dare
You eat some dirt
And that dead worm over there
She wore pink tennis shoes,
And her hair in pigtails
We were dreamers with wings
living life on a dare
My sandbox love and I
Testing our limits,
Running wild and free
Little girls play dress up,
Boys just destroy things
She’d say, I am Princess,
You are a Prince
I had a smile on my face
Thinking of my sweet revenge
The next day I’ll be a firey dragon,
she’ll be a witch, that I’ll eat end
There in the sandbox, we gave our spit pledges
Promising each other, our love would last forever
Her family moved away and I’d not seen her since
But I honor my pledge each day I reminisce
My sandbox love, you - I’ll never forget
I used to pick on
some of the other kids in school.
Now, I didn't do it to show of
or just to be cool.
It didn't make me happy
to make them hurt.
And it wasn't because I was angry,
that I made them eat dirt.
Never was I jealous,
or thought it was funny.
Never did I do it
to take their lunch money.
Not even did I do it,
for their homework to copy.
I really only ever did it,
because there was nothing
they could do to stop me.
An awful stench is circulating in the air
erupting dark clouds everywhere
Rough waves moving backward
casting doubts and hammering fear
Muddy water gushing down the dirty stream
disrupting and shaking the core of my dream
You brought me upon this corrupted earth
To suffer, endure pain and eat dirt
I am feeling so ashamed
I doubt if I can rebound again
The bricks are piling on top of each other
There is no way I can get it together
The boomerang is flying around
conquering its mission and fortifying ambition
Great God of the universe
Come minister to my bleeding soul
I am living but I am not living'
I am eating but I am not eating
I am speaking but I am not speaking
The wind has come to a standstill
It is sucking up all the energy from within
The trees watches in awe saggy leaves
broken branches patronizing everyone
They are not swaying they are silently groaning
I am standing on the broken rock
which is about to collapse
The full moon has come and gone
leaving everyone in the dark
The werewolf has resurface again
leaving its impression deep in the clay
Short roads and long roads intercepts
And a great burden is looming over my head
The river is running dry
And residues are evident everywhere
I am walking carefully on the side but
But I have just slipped into the mud again.
I stand within these walls of comfort,
Called freedom.
While in every corner of this world,
My siblings die.
Brothers and sisters of earth,
Struggling for hope.
My vagabond mind wanders in circles,
Searching for answers.
Still, questions hang like dead fog,
Which never lifts.
Explosions of pain that ears can hear,
Waking my eyes in morning papers.
Wars giving less than nothing,
Smother my senses in useless regret.
So many feeling so sorry,
Yet simply changing channels.
Compassion being a dirty word,
Those elite few have come to despise.
While walls they've built soon crush them,
Beneath weight of their own insincerity.
Intellectual nitwits,
Unaware of their bottomless ignorance.
Marching beneath a banner of confusion,
They proudly do wave.
All the while chanting,
Let the common ones eat dirt.
As their warm apple pies quietly cool,
On selfish shelves.
As unfortunate mothers loudly weep in despair,
Watching their children expire.
These ones of power do not hear those sounds of death,
Only their greed raging out of control in a battle outside.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
casting shade
on food security~
let them eat dirt
If I could have just one desire
maybe multiples of sevens
I would swallow my pride
place it inside
Up Chuck spew out the spoonful of defoul
on a tablespoon
sprinkle it with honey no sugar
swallow the bitter filler of disdained
all those monarchies enrage hierarchies
Throw up spew out a spoon full of defoul
O, what's wrong wit me
In my part of this sinful heresy
repelling me I throw up my jealousies
all of this inside of me
Upchuck spew a spoonful of defile
swallowing like a spoonful of antacid
I would take more molasses
I spit on my shame
I throw up in vain
but it's not what goes in my mouth
but yet what comes out
Raw species upchucking
crawfishes filthy and hurt
rather eat dirt
but those things that come forth
from the mouth go out from the heart
come out of the heart
and these things defoul the man
Please! Don't don't say this all over again!!
Help us all LORD
1/6/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
St Matthews 15:18
Proud Mica
I mustn’t go inside
For I will die
Though forbidden
I dig for mica,
A shimmery crystalline rock
Resembling thin mirror glass
I bare scars
From scraping the ceiling inside
A hollow, black hole
That’ll surely collapse
I labor for but a few cents
But I mustn’t cry
For I’ve survived
Though thick air
And dust fill up my lungs
And I’ve got a cough
I carry on
With light humor
And a silent prayer
I stay pretty
With dirt beneath my nails
And scabs beneath my feet
I walk on pretty
Glistening dirt
Leading to my secret hiding place
To make you pretty
My work stops
when the rain drops
The mines ain’t mine
Even at four or five
Nor are my fantasies
I’m part of the machine
First to touch the jewel
Yet last to eat
Flashlights lead the way
Until it burns out
And leave me in a maze
I eat dirt
But I ain’t dirty
I dream of pretty
Tassels and tea parties
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
06/09/19
Aunt BeMah had complex of “worst scenario”.
No matter what happened she would be screaming “oh, no!”
If you fell down on cement and skinned your knee,
She would scream about a cancer possibility.
One time she announced that Leroy obviously had chthonophagia.
We had to Google it. It means unhealthy desire to eat dirt, funny, yah?
Leroy is two.
That is what two’s do.
If you are squeamish
you may not be ready to be a mother
babies are messy and smelly
their odors are horrible
they spit up and squirt out
your clothes will never be the same
toddlers eat dirt, sand and bugs.
there is no time to be finicky or prissy
the average person consumes eight spiders a year
in their sleep,
knowing this might make motherhood easier.