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ShamusDeyoPoems
Its a Land with 3 inches of Soil Sprouts High Voltage Lines, Oil Derriks And Microwave Towers everywhere Like a Modern Steel Forest Landscape The wind is ever present and Unending Its a Cruel Wind, strips the Paint off of All At Night the Howling and Humming of All that steel wire sets your teeth on edge The wind Strips the electrons from All Leaving a Negative charge in the Air Like some Electrical Spirit plagues the Land Scrambling your thoughts and Actions Its the Desolation Where Revial Meeting Tents Flapped in 1930s wind there for Salvation of Souls The Place where anger flares up from Minds wore down A Brother gets shot over Drumstick in any given town At the motel I pace in the Night hounded by the sound As if I had to witness this Howling wind strip the Ground Morning coffee I reach for a Styrofoam Cup with the Rolls It Leaps 5 inches into my hand trying to get away from this Land A Land of endless wind and sand run across West Texas Like A Frieght train Whistling and Howling as it Rumbles By Shaking the Ground with its Passing Through the Town The Lands Only Salvation is its Blue unending Skies
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Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
West Texas Oil Fields
Its a Land with 3 inches of Soil Sprouts High Voltage Lines, Oil Derriks And Microwave Towers everywhere Like a Modern Steel Forest Landscape The wind is ever present and Unending Its a Cruel Wind, strips the Paint off of All At Night the Howling and Humming of All that steel wire sets your teeth on edge The wind Strips the electrons from All Leaving a Negative charge in the Air Like some Electrical Spirit plagues the Land Scrambling your thoughts and Actions Its the Desolation Where Revial Meeting Tents Flapped in 1930s wind there for Salvation of Souls The Place where anger flares up from Minds wore down A Brother gets shot over Drumstick in any given town At the motel I pace in the Night hounded by the sound As if I had to witness this Howling wind strip the Ground Morning coffee I reach for a Styrofoam Cup with the Rolls It Leaps 5 inches into my hand trying to get away from this Land A Land of endless wind and sand run across West Texas Like A Frieght train Whistling and Howling as it Rumbles By Shaking the Ground with its Passing Through the Town The Lands Only Salvation is its Blue unending Skies
Thoughts from a Funeral Visit
ShamusDeyo
Written by
ShamusDeyo
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
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