“How'd you die?” the therapist asked.
“I don't know," I said.
“Was it a car crash?”
“No, I don't own a car.”
“Was it self-inflicted doom?”
“No, I don't like heights or knives.”
“Was it one of your friends?”
“No, I don't have friends.”
“Was it your parents?”
“No, they're both in jail.”
“Was it your sister?”
“No, she left me, frail”
“Was it the old man you smiled at every morning?”
“No, he passed away with the jury deciding his hearing.”
“Was it-”
“How are you today?” I cut in, smiling,
But no answer came.
For the dry wall before me was never a therapist to acclaim.
If I were free, I wouldn't be.
I wouldn't be who—what I am right now.
I wouldn't be the miscreation I myself despised once
I wouldn't be the stain upon creation I am right now.
If I were free, I'd be six feet under the dirt.
The very dirt I once spurned would spurn me then.
For,I'd be their trespasser.
Now I will never be dirt free
You've covered me head to toe
It's in my hair and in my mouth
Stuck like gum in the roots of my hair
A sour taste like a lemon or a not-yet-ripe strawberry
No matter how much I bathe
You’ve done the irreversible
The unforgivable
I am treated like a garden bed
Used in the spring and neglected in the winter
You use me to grow new things
like roses and fruits and berries
I hope everything you grow wilts rots away like the maggots that fill your sick mind and sick heart
You are an earth worm, but I am not your filth to consume
No matter how much you change
Now I will never be dirt free
Her feet crush the coarse dirt,
settling from foot to foot in approach.
Tendons flex; bones remember weather.
Wings—thin bone, taut skin—rise,
each feather catching a gale it cannot see the end of.
The body lunges.
Wings propel upward as a single draft is caught.
Legs lock into a streamlined stance,
and the body relaxes, gliding on years to come.
The dirt seems never to have existed;
storm gales he dark sea below.
Flying spray and rising mist crust her beak with salt.
Endless currents shepherd the locked wings through thick fog.
Half in repose,
sweeping the air—never too high, never too low.
She has always been this far from land, and never.
Seasons crust her wings like old weather she can’t shed.
Then the wind snaps. A warning.
Wings unfold.
A wall of petrichor and sulfur rises ahead.
Feathers shudder.
Tendons unlock. Her body loosens.
Feet strike giving soil,
legs search for footing as friction returns.
Salt gives way to soil.
The dirt is dirt again.
Big yellow digger scoops
the ground,
Moves the heavy dirt
around,
Makes a loud and rumbling
sound!
The sun is out,
The day is about to unfold,
Yet somewhere deep in my bones,
I am freezing.
My eyes drift to my wrist
Only to find I’ve run out of time.
The edges of the world go soft,
My vision blurs,
And the ground rushes up to meet me.
They say the fall is part of the journey.
They say the echoes are just lessons to embrace.
But as I lie here in the dirt,
I want to know
How?
This poor man's road, for dirt track
Stumbling now on down.
Humility's trite-spoke route!
And nearest semblance.
As dimly, shadily kept.
As meagre; minor.
Whose shafts of light passing through
Hope's rays, hearts of lance.
There’s a whole world alive
midst the mud, the dust and the dirt
All sorts of bugs a-creepin’ and a-crawlin’
ants, beetles, roly-polys, spiders, worms --
They just make me writhe and squirm
I prefer to ponder the skies
~ leave my kid brother to all those germs
Happy is the goal, to live and grow happy, without being made to feel low.
Low like a piece of dust sitting on the ground, getting no thought at all, God told us the story of how we were created by the dirt, letting us know that we truly are just a pile of earth.
Happy is the goal, to live in peace, in love, in all of the positive ways, free from hate and allowed to live in a Godly loving way.
Happy is a positive way to live, it is like a plant growing in the best fertile land, free from weeds and other negative forces, that want to stunt our growth and keep us low.
Happy will be achieved when we come to agreement, that everyone has their own agenda, not all can be happy, when one wants the other to be dead or destroyed.
Love makes us feel happy, it is our goal to live a life that makes us feel all the positive things in life.
Love makes us happy, it gives us the feeling of calm, and lifts us to satisfaction, making us smile with happy thoughts and actions.
Asking God to clear the way, to remove and send the unhappiest away, to send them to their spot and leave happy loving ones with us.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Some times I may want to flirt,
some times I like to play in the dirt.
I could be right,
or is it plain just out of sight?
Please don't look under my skirt.
Kid Dirt
If there was ever a you and me
If there was ever a parting of the sea
I surely would have let you down
Though the moments were to die for
When I'd hold you in my arms
And look into the creature that you are
In a World full of hatred and fear
Full of wrong beliefs and right someone else's wants
We breathe in unison and exhale our poison through the air
In a World full of hatred
It is all a mystery of what and a fortress of why
We share our thoughts but they get cast aside
Faces I needed to be
In the late end of a summer dream
I just couldn't get it right I just couldn't think
Now I feel washed up on a beach
All the things that mattered seem extinct
All the promises to myself were just instinct
All the love we had
Distant heartbeat of God's knowing
I can't find my soul
It never came back from those two odd ball heroine freaks
I gave away my soul for I danced with illusion
I gave away my chance to have a place to come home to
The place some call religion others call a mystic prison
I just want to look in you eyes and ignore the wants and needs
That we call survival
And the crawl of the poor and the dirty windows of tomorrow
Fingerprint markings on the fridge.
Tiny clues that betray mischief and secrets.
Slice of cake is missing.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Raindrops cleanse the streets
Wash away the filth and grime
Makes way for new dirt
It’s funny, I don’t believe in heaven, but every time I pay homage to the dead I look towards the sky.
I hope I don’t end up there when I go,
I’d much rather be the dirt travelers tread on.
It's a yummy chocolate bath
What joy to play in slushy mud ~
Mom said to have fun !
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
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