deepundergroundpoetry.com
dust in the canyons
dust storm in the canyons
inverted dungeons
flirt with clouds
whose sole purpose by all accounts
was to serve as catapults
for dusted angels.
when i wasn't dodging falling angels,
i was stepping over those who had crashed.
hop scotching over pools of ammonia and plasma
in search of a safe den.
i flick my tail and shake my coat
in the wake of the stench.
scarecrows marking asphalt rows bend and sway
in curious contortions in anticipation
of euphoric relief.
in their drunken nods they spy
my virgin veins with envy.
not yet having spilled blood in these canyons
i loop aimlessly as a scavenger.
camouflaged temptations beckon
and scar beyond my coated flesh.
swarms pollinate fields a sunset away
but flies feast on the remains of angels
and scarecrows
in this valley.
the effective butterfly.
i see the sand blowing
eyes are blinded
and turned.
stick out your tongue
is the hollow echo i hear
in this soporific tempest.
do i dare
Writer's note: for my cousin Debbie, who lost everything she had and was in the storm
Presented in the Storms and Bad Weather challenge hosted by Madame Lavender
inverted dungeons
flirt with clouds
whose sole purpose by all accounts
was to serve as catapults
for dusted angels.
when i wasn't dodging falling angels,
i was stepping over those who had crashed.
hop scotching over pools of ammonia and plasma
in search of a safe den.
i flick my tail and shake my coat
in the wake of the stench.
scarecrows marking asphalt rows bend and sway
in curious contortions in anticipation
of euphoric relief.
in their drunken nods they spy
my virgin veins with envy.
not yet having spilled blood in these canyons
i loop aimlessly as a scavenger.
camouflaged temptations beckon
and scar beyond my coated flesh.
swarms pollinate fields a sunset away
but flies feast on the remains of angels
and scarecrows
in this valley.
the effective butterfly.
i see the sand blowing
eyes are blinded
and turned.
stick out your tongue
is the hollow echo i hear
in this soporific tempest.
do i dare
Writer's note: for my cousin Debbie, who lost everything she had and was in the storm
Presented in the Storms and Bad Weather challenge hosted by Madame Lavender
Published 16th Sep 2013
| Edited 1st Aug 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 1
comments 7
reads 1150
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
- Edited 15th Feb 2025 10:45pm
16th Sep 2013 10:48pm
<< post removed >>
17th Sep 2013 8:40am
The storms I'm writing of here are a bit more ominous ...the blight of drugs - notedly heroin and angel dust - that ravaged inner cities ...
The housing projects I grew up in were 21 story monstrosities built to warehouse poor families ... those hooked on dust would often break onto rooftops to "fly" ... their remains pooling in plain sight ...
Showing weakness or remorse - a sin - so you shake it off ...
Heroin junkies in bobbed stupors seemed to be on every other corner ... some candy stores were fronts to sell smack ...
Although the poppy harvested to make these drugs was a half a world away ... the net product flowed easily in my neighborhood (butterfly effect) ... and a lot of people got rich ignoring this storm
Like many kids then I was often coaxed by a drug dealers with a "free taste" ... I have an older cousin who I IDOLIZED who succumbed ... She was brilliant - a math major - graduate school offers to Columbia U and Fordham U ... she's been institutionalized for the last 15 years of her life ...
I know the piece is a bit esoteric in it's metaphors but I was in a somber place when penning this ...
Thank you for the read ... and writing exercise Madame Lavender
The housing projects I grew up in were 21 story monstrosities built to warehouse poor families ... those hooked on dust would often break onto rooftops to "fly" ... their remains pooling in plain sight ...
Showing weakness or remorse - a sin - so you shake it off ...
Heroin junkies in bobbed stupors seemed to be on every other corner ... some candy stores were fronts to sell smack ...
Although the poppy harvested to make these drugs was a half a world away ... the net product flowed easily in my neighborhood (butterfly effect) ... and a lot of people got rich ignoring this storm
Like many kids then I was often coaxed by a drug dealers with a "free taste" ... I have an older cousin who I IDOLIZED who succumbed ... She was brilliant - a math major - graduate school offers to Columbia U and Fordham U ... she's been institutionalized for the last 15 years of her life ...
I know the piece is a bit esoteric in it's metaphors but I was in a somber place when penning this ...
Thank you for the read ... and writing exercise Madame Lavender
17th Sep 2013 5:44am
17th Sep 2013 8:45am
17th Sep 2013 4:20pm
LSP this is a powerful dark piece of writing. The imagery you delivered in the lines is haunting and flowed smoothly through the stanzas.
I was visualising this run down desert town overcome by zombies.
Great work LSP.
Edit S2 L2 Delete "the"
I was visualising this run down desert town overcome by zombies.
Great work LSP.
Edit S2 L2 Delete "the"
18th Sep 2013 4:15am
Thanks for the read and feedback - and edit correction. I wasn't sure what direction I was going with this, and then bit by bit it fell into place - a reflection of some really dark times.
... And I'm really floored by your Storm entry as well.
LSP
... And I'm really floored by your Storm entry as well.
LSP
18th Sep 2017 8:31pm
