Short Dust Storm Poems

African dust storm
stirs red sunsets in her pot
settles on my skin...

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true love is love true
dreaming memories dreamt you
after the dust storm...

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parched barren earth thirsts
unforgiving winds assault
the destitute land

TLH  ©  07-09-2012

Haiku or Senryu?...

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Lifting from the Millewa;
swirling to the sky,
billowed to the heavens,
each particle drifts high.
Closing down the clearness
in an ever thickening rust,
from dry and harrowed farmland,
swirls the Mallee dust....

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You’re a fault line
Ready to move away at any moment
A black hole
Ready to suck me in relentlessly
You’re a twister
Ready to destroy my home 
A hurricane 
Ready to drown me in my sleep
You’re a dust storm
Ready to dirty my hope
A blizzard 
Ready to leave me in the cold...

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Flowery snow falls
down to the Earthen grounds white
furry flakes covers
~
snow cold frozen flakes
surrounding grounds covering
white skies clouds and grounds
~
snow falls flowery
frozen white particles rain
winter's dust storm blows

12/23/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020...

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Whispering autumn zephyr
slithered thru’ sagacious canopy,
foliage eloquent in vibrant ecstasy,
on trail of the trees’ shadow I walked.

Frenzied summer dust storm
blew away murmur of falling leaves,
wandering aimless in mute wasteland
I wonder where the speaking trees have gone.

May 9, 2019...

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A ghost truth 
levels down,
the traffic. You enter
into catatonic stage.

Rage and anguish
will ask,
for the price of blood
flown down the river.

Listening
with the eyes. Leaffall,
luteus, music of descent
on grass.

A dust storm 
settles on sill. I will 
look through the window, at
a setting sun, unadored.


Satish Verma...

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To love someone to set them free,
does that mean they never really 
had the chance to be? 

Did we 
somehow keep them in captivity?
Was the love we had but a mirage,
when the dust storm settles we
realise there was something that 
we never had.

We drink from that 
oasis hoping to quench our love.
yet a hole remains in our souls,
it's just never going to be enough....

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Tell me my story,
I have quite forgotten
truth from fiction
my reality is a snail shell,
a spiral inwards
into an unpublished past.
I was never true; never false,
just not yet concluded
last pages still flutter loose
in a dust-storm.
Write me a novelty
some popular tale
I once told myself.
Keep it fake
keep it believable
keep it for tomorrow
when my reading glasses
return from the blind gods of
past & future
say nothing of this moment....

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Listen to poem:

Sun-Dried Rain
David J Walker

Following the path of 
Southwest winds 

Carving canyons  
Starving clouds and land alike

Making sand of topsoil
As pilgrims pray for rain

staking a claim in blowing dust
In bilingual refrains 

of long missed moisture 
and drying rust 

Sun-dried children cleansed and swaying
on backyard clothes lines 

dying for a drop 
of Sun-Dried rain

Who will be selected Queen of 
This year’s Dust Storm Fest...

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DUST STORM AT SUNSET

Walking long on brittle road,

pause awhile with time slowed,

see dusk descends on trail,

veils the adoring faces frail.

On road not travelled yet

dust storm surges at sunset,

twilight hours race, ending fast,

day’s last gale blows past.

Hope, dying light will last

until I rise from dust.


April 1, 2019
Rhyming checked on Rhymezone.com
Grammar checked on PS Grammar Checker...

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Scratching the rusted face 
of the dust storm? 
to read the message.
   
             I have come very far,
             from the old stinks.
             It was not the escape.

The unshaped sap,
spills from the cut end?
of treetops. I gather your cones.

             The fall begins abruptly.
             It was a landslide of
             leaf drop. Yellow and brown.

I wait for the red.
It reminds me of blood 
dripping from your poem.


Satish Verma...

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