Dust drops like silent thoughts, neglected
over the piano lid, shut quiet and still.
Some dust we keep as mementos
in a chaotic pile of keepsakes.
Some we wipe away on a rainy day,
with windows wide open to keep it from our nostrils.
We wipe away the fingerprints left by
the guilty one, the cleaner upper-er,
to leave no trace for retribution.
Neglect, retention, renewal, recollection,
detritus, waste, tidy-up and decay,
all converge when
we live our lives and gather dust,
and we dust up the gathering.
The snake slips through its own ribs.
It surges away accelerating within its length,
a self-winding mind
pumped through muscular hoops.
A sharpshooting tongue flicks, drilling space,
muscular chains propel scaly flanks.
That elongated, rippling cage,
creates side-winder tractor-prints,
a pattern
etched on the surface
of its underbelly belly.
Its swift purpose now
is to out-speed the threat of my eyes.
I kick some dust up,
the serpent freezes,
then turns to face,
not seeing but tasting,
a scent that could be
the enticing blood-heat of a rabbit,
or the stabbing beak of an eagle,
yet it hesitates, sensing
something alien, different.
If it had shoulders, It would have shrugged,
Instead, I shrug for it,
then walk quickly away.
even her dungeon was painted amethyst
her husband, his unforgiving jail cell he missed
© Francis Maugo
At the point when you remember me,
Kindly don't sob.
You attempted everything you could
To rescue my dieing soul
Dear you felt down and out when
Relatives proved unable
To bear the cost
Of my hospital bill
You were generally there for me
Close to my death bay
Nyakwara kindly don't sob
I lived a good life ,
I ran the nine decades race well
And won it ,I fought many battles
And here I am waiting patiently for the Prize
After my triumph
My dear though couldn't see you,I could feel your presence at my death bay
You were there for me till my last breath
Kindly dust up and walk up tall
For all is well,
I have rejoined your grandpa
Who left me several decades ago
Kindly don't weep for I am in safe hands
Have been received warmly
Into this new world
'Nyakwara'kindly take great consideration
Of the promises you made to me
Be the light to bring back the Maugo I used to
Cherish in the 50s
Kindly heed to your parents advice
Take good care of yourself
Weep no more
For I my soul is
In good place
Threw the tea to the bottom of the sea
Calling themselves The Sons of Liberty
History changing dust up
Over a tax thought unjust
Intolerant of slightest tyranny
I picked it up and let it run through
Reddish brown and so dry too
Then I stood and looked around
The long drought had cracked the ground
The wind blew the red dust up high
Into the clear blue azure sky
In the distance the sea rolled to the beach
As the sun blasted the sky out of reach
I love this land god given and grand
Sun drenched and hard in God’s plan
It may be wind blown and red
But I’ll always be a proud Australian born and bred.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Steel blue sky
Sun glaring down
From a cloudless sky
Baking all things
Metal brands skin
Hot wind blows
Dust up in the air
Sweat rivers down
Thoughts of sweet wintertime abound.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Charming brown it's the smell of a cocoa,
the brown suit , the caramel perfume,
pouring of a caramel on a brown tea that the
brown shoes descending on brown path,
it is a charming brown.
brown leaves, brown dress,
down the path, up to the trees,
it is more of brown.
brown twigs, brown suit,
smells natural, scent of humility,
down the road,
down to the under-ground,
it is brown color.
brown natural leaves above the brown dress
below it is the 'sweet teeth',
brown leaves and trees just produces sort of taste.
the bouncing infra-red ,red-light on the red leaves,
that improves intelligent
on a major brown suit.
brown weeding gowns, brown nests,
here and up there,
blue sky, white clouds moving to the west
the brown dresses and the brown suits.
pitching down, plunging down, descending down,
going up, lifting up, rising up,
brown dust up in the air,
brown hill, brown shoes,
dancing on a brown path,
red leaves blew up,elaborated by wind
extending red on a major brown dress,
the major brown Princess, the woman in brown dress,
Unaware of life ahead tough
Youth captured in a photograph
Ambition beamed behind framed glass
Promised future a life of class
Nothing less would define enough.
Through scorching time I travelled far
Dragging life with burnt dreams’ deep scar
In twilight dust up the mountain
Distant from peak still I remain
Failed life from dust can’t uncover.
When time for the sun to set came
Looked at memory in glass frame
Dusk's grey dust tarnished the picture
False promise suffered the rupture
Reflects deformed me as I am.
March 24, 2018
Syllable count : 8 each line
Contest : Completely Your Choice (37)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
I Am Poet
I see the way they look away
though I know that they don't know it.
I see that they think less of me
when I say that I am Poet.
But they can't see the heart in me
from times of love demanding.
They can't see the scars I hide
so they lack the understanding.
Quietly they roll their eyes
a half smile on their face.
Quietly I watch and wait
until everything's in place.
Through many years, a million tears
I've watched them as they're broken.
Before they can begin to hear
the words of comfort spoken.
Like a book that has no value
collecting dust up on a shelf.
Suddenly becoming priceless
once you've read the book yourself.
They cannot see that part of me
and dreams that came unraveled.
Until suddenly awakened
on a road I one time traveled.
I see the way they look away
though I know that they don't know it.
I see that they think less of me
when I say that I am Poet.
So I cling to hope for them
and at night I softly pray.
That the day will never come
when they need the words I say.
Edwin C Hofert
i am inspired by your spirit
i am impressed by your passion
i am in awe of your presence
i am influenced by your fashion
you make me look in the mirror
and shake the dust up off myself
you make me really realize
that within me is a divine gift of wealth
for this i wanna thank you
for i once thought it all odd
it is an amazing sometimes the unexpected ways
that one discovers the amazing power of God....
A barefoot boy on an old dirt road
Kicking dust up as he went
His lips all puckered, whistling a tune
He was happy and content
He carried a bucket by the bail
Had a cane pole on his back
And under his arm, all wrapped up tight
Was a burlap gunny sack
“Where are you going with all that stuff?”
I asked as he skipped on by
“I’m headed down to the Jack-Knife Creek
To catch Crawdads for a pie”
A fine morning to watch the birds
By the ocean side. My dog by my side.
Deep cool breeze
Setting ablaze my ribs
My jacket and the dog’s fur
All I needed and asked for
Perfect company and comfort
…a lonely life.
My surrounding,
Oblivion of me
And me too, void of all
Very deep in thought
Knowing not when,
I sipped from the coffee cup
Wincing in disagreement,
I jolted back to memory
By its bitter taste.
Hahahahahaha
What a way to discover.
But discovered I have.
A great deal of life is false and bitter
It’s bitter when you love
Yet, you be not loved
It’s false, thinking you are loved
But all the while, mugged
Why do you tell me
All is fair in love and war?
When I know what I saw?
The weak is the stepping stone
For the wicked
The honest a tool
In the hands of the fraud
But…
Woe to them who made you bear grudge
And…
Woe to you who got soiled in vengeance.
Nature is smart…so smart with it
For the sun must rise again
And time must heal your pain
Like the Americans will say
Every dog has its day
Dust up and take a walk
For your new lover
Might be waiting by the side walk
Trees bowing in humble adoration
Dust up the air........from the ground
Humans having a feeling so sweet
Mild is the air,will it rain today?
Thunder? no! lightening? no!save the breeze
squeezed umbrellas,caps dancing upwards
leaves gathering to have an emergency meeting
everyone shut your eyes, some sands are passing by
it will rain, will it rain? rain it will
rain, rain go away come again another day
little ones chanting down the next lane
thunder strikes, lightening follows
drops of rain, showers, oh its pouring almost immediately
to your tents all the living
heavens water tanks are open
I have you in my sight
Far behind those thorns
On a mountain so high
Between the devil's horns
Where a fake smile on my face
And heaven under my feet
Somehow seem out of place
For its you who causes my beat
Shall I rise and draw my sword
All crippled and face the beast
As I’m a pillar that carries my world
Shall I move and risk my seat
Let it fall to please myself
As I might forever perish?
Or let it dust up on a shelf
Obedient to the morals I cherish?
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