Dirt

This was a bit of an exercise in stream of consciousness writing that I do from time to time to get the juices flowing. Felt like a spoken word piece so, I gave it the label.

Digging in the dirt

my hands outstretched

before me grasping

clawing

seeking

covered to the elbows

they submerge further

and further

no purchase to be had

over and over

fists come up empty

the grit upon me

gets on me

mixes with sweat

and saliva crunching

beneath my teeth

so clenched

in frenzied breath

I fall into the hole

that I've created

I continue to mine

for gold

ruby

sapphire

I desire

crave

quest

with all of me

deeper

as I go

until a momentary

tilt of my

fixed gaze

reveals nothing

darkness

all that there is

lost in obsession

I am

the dirt

Reviews

[Dana Alsamsam]

i had so many thoughts while reading this. greediness? desire to discover everything that there is? digging your own grave? and then at the end it's right there...you're digging through or searching within yourself. this magnifies your frustration with writers block that you were telling me about before. you keep looking and hoping but coming out with nothing- this was definitely a good break in that streak! i think there's some great stuff in the dirt, keep searching :)

[Astro]

Because of the way I wrote this piece, and you may understand this better than most, it has layers that if dissected line by line would definitely reveal a lot about me. What I meant by your understanding of the way I wrote this one, is that I allowed myself a moment to tap into the higher consciousness that allows for the creation of many great things if we simply allow it to flow without trying to stifle its effects by trying to understand its meaning. Thanks for the support and review.

[The Verse: A Poetry Jou..]

obsessions are like digging your own grave in a quest for something precious and valuable and in the end you are not the shovel nor the man digging the hole, but the dirt in the hole itself! another wicked write...

[Astro]

Thanks I wasn't trying to create a series of metaphors like I often do with this one, I just let it flow out of me and then I came to a point where it came to a logical end. Glad you liked it and that something so raw could appear like a polished gem.

[The Verse: A Poetry Journal]

It's perfect!

[Astro]

Unlike my salty salad. Mental note: Don't try and pour pepper in the dark. :S Thanks again.