(Inspired by the painting La Victoire by René Magritte)
A giant door has opened
upon a yellow shore
No rooms contain it
This huge high door
stands with blue water
on its opposite side
Between the blue
of firmament and sea
is a grayish background
A cloud has settled
at the top
left portion
of the peculiar door
Strangely, the cloud
is suspended
mid-air
inside the open space
that faces away from
the water
I stand before the door
pondering its purpose there . . .
I ponder MY purpose there
If I should pass through it,
will I find myself
walking toward water -
to immerse myself
in the cool of its blue?
Then it dawns on me
What if I can somehow
reach the cloud suspended
in the open doorway?
What if I could
grab hold of that
nearly unreachable cloud?
Envisioning this -
I become one with the cloud,
and I’m d r i f t i n g
inside
my own
imagination
Chronicles of the revolving door
By Dustin Branum
When exactly does life begin? When will this
tragedy come to an end? It's like over, and over,
and over again... When will I ever find peace,
my friend? And nobody knows how far I've
been; Nobody cares about the pain
I'm in. This knowledge that
burns deep within, with
a withering soul,
reality will
bend.
The
light
turns dark
with a grayish
blend, begging for
mercy, it's demons they
send. The light is illusion I
can no longer depend—There's no
Destiny for me to defend. Yearning for
happy, acceptance, and Zen, Instead of this
anger and evil times ten. No kids, no wife, no
next of kin; Lonely and broken, this chapter will end...
Exactly where the it began.
Should desert’s dearth unleash in life,
O wait till wafts cool breeze in life.
In grayish dry terrains, look for
A lush green oasis in life.
No life doth face only but banes,
Look for islands of bliss in life.
Life’s never just a despair of
Doldrums, soft breeze does kiss in life.
Ye need be a nigh bit patient
To cook your choicest dish in life.
Let sea of life whirl surface waves,
Deep down reigns profound peace in life.
So, cut out all the kitsch in life,
Should joy be your heart’s wish in life.
_________________________
Ghazal | 03.11.2016, revised June 2026 | breeze/wind, life, kiss, peace, wish/desire
Circles spread on the surface
And disappear in the pool
And do it so lightly - it must
Be starting to sprinkle.
Where are the grayish clouds
I should see in the reflection?
Where are the tapping sounds
And the shift in the wind?
No - my eyes are dripping tears
I didn't see coming.
Catch them - merciful waters -
And put them away from me.
mystical phantom
grayish shadow reflection
hides inside mirror
an overcast Kansas day
the kind that gives you a sunburn
without any sun
the clouds are dark grayish blue
thick sluggish unmoving
I stare into them seeking my Archangel Michael
Tired War,Release the Monkeys
They tried to nail my boot to the floor
No nail puller
My influence won the day
I was the monkey man
Earn the right
I want to ask
Just for a little more time
Growing life growing tree
just to lose it
Can't you see
Life got to be better
Once I lit that cigarette Ocean of tomorrows
Swells
Fasten our belts
There's air escaping This world has a leak
Just before a cats shadow beyond the hill
Against the grayish stucco plastered wall
Fortune of forever
Now its in your face
Fear fear fear
its all coming together
Together
Why I fear completion
Or falling apart
Put your mind in another place
Seeing the sun cut out to shade
I promise to do enough
oxygen enough empty space for you
To have another cigarette
Well I can't say that you suck
Unless I can do better
But even then
I saw monkeys
Hooked up to masks
I wondered who is actually murdering their ass
Well the monkey mysteriously went away
Hope take me away from tragedy
My old friend stayed
Giving death sentences like belonging to some hell bent regime
The trumpets sounded
I let it finish
I faded into forget
We loved like a thunderstorm
Brief, but powerful
Before the thunder even started
There were warning signs
Like a slight breeze
And when lightning struck
It destroyed yet stopped after a while
But there would still be more lightning
And the rain drizzled
Like the tension always between us
The grayish blue clouds
Were like the barriers
Hiding your secrets from me
A thunderstorm always ends
And that's exactly what we did
Sharita was running out of make up on this strange night
She had put turquoise and purple in her hair all right
Her eyelids were painted a lovely grayish blue with dazzle
I need more make-up she said, so I can dazzle razzle
When most people are getting ready to go to bed
Sharita is painting her hair, and painting her head
If she was bald, she would put a mural up there
She’s unruly and fun with the wildest hair
My mother never let me have any make up she told me
We were from a church that said let the devil be
My mama thought lipstick was a horrible sin
If she saw me now, she’d not let me in
Outside is where stones are.
All around.
You could have filled your pockets with stones.
And then you didn’t.
You miss that grayish stone with the brown dot.
Outside is where there are places to sit.
You sat on a wooden bench once.
“Once in a while.”
Becomes too much.
So only once.
Did you relax.
Outside is where you stand just outside the door to your house.
You can feel the air conditioning.
Feeling like-
You’ve never lived anywhere.
You just are.
Outside is where you don’t have clocks on the wall.
You have a watch and a phone, though.
Which you want to toss in the lake like a stone.
Like the stone that you left behind on that walk by the lake.
Outside has sidewalks.
Outside has weather.
Outside has a person like me.
I used to like things like stones, and benches.
I used to like things.
The Queen has a navy
That floats in her gravy,
It’s sharp and its clear,
But it’s sure tough to steer,
For the rudders get stuck
In that thick, grayish muck,
And the lads in the stern
Have a penchant to yearn
For the bright shining waters
All popping with otters,
Yet they smile as they sail past
Her Majesty’s repast,
And wink as they think
That they’d better not sink,
For if sailors go down
In the gravy, they’ll drown,
And you can’t hear them yelp
Through the lard for some help,
And therefore it’s wise
On the ship to keep eyes,
And they sail towards a biscuit
And think that they’ll risk it,
‘Midst butters and jams,
And kippers and clams,
On a crumbly crag
Raise Her Majesty’s flag,
And with hearts beating proud
Face the smiling crowd,
For a deed large or small,
It is better than all,
If it’s done with conviction,
Not merely good diction,
And protecting the table,
Or more, if you’re able,
Brings honor unseen
To country and Queen.
Tides crashing ashore
Under grayish humid skies
Laughter hides the storm
Humanity, the leaning yawl of infinite holes.
God, the tranquil sea for a millennium or so.
Swells growing bold as the sky swirls grayish.
Humanity, taking on barrels of water and salt.
Ivory gulls are shrieking at the crimson spray.
Biters and crawlers are awaiting the flesh.
The universe is a distant shell of pristine cold.
A small craft lies cracked on an isle of sea glass.
Forgotten souls in aquamarine chrysalis.
Floating above the frothy shoal.
T’would seem the edge of beauty unexposed
Relies upon the images it stirs
More so than that, forever’s loving rose
Though faded knows she was the one he chose
For memory, though dark, still holds its flame
Dim light to weave its way through grayish stones
Cold winds that whisper long forgotten names
As distant bells lament their silenced tones
Thus, does she speak in dandelion tongue
Her mocking beauty rivaling the sun
For love it seems remains forever young
Its whispers of forever - ever sung
For beauty is the guise of lust’s demise
Weeping beneath its shadowy grey skies
Red Slime: must you disguise your worth
aren't you treasure
which Mica and quarts
sand and gold
Aren't you tresure
that a torch should solitify
you into a crystalized anomlly
aren't as much tresure as gold itself
nitrate and phosfate
the seperation of a wayer soaked claim
Mica Schits introduced me to
the Grayish Gold ore one desires
Ultramatic, tuff the stones of a sandy
panning area
Feldspar! Feldspar and Garnet!
then were are your tresures
Mr. Mica Schits Feldspar
Ore Miss
Mica Schits Feldspar
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