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Emery Feine Oct 3
It comes, it runs throughout this place
It covers, it hovers without a trace
And everything we once loved
We'll never again face

These castle walls were turned from bronze to rust
Shattered from the years of betrayal and mistrust
And the sands which one sparked our dreams
Are now only replaced by dust
this is my 99th poem, written on 5/10/24
Zywa Jul 20
By chance found again:

the butterfly box, the pins --


in circles of dust.
"Dagboek 1954-1957" ("Diary 1954-1957", 2005, Frida Vogels) - January 19th, 1955 in Milan

Collection "Trench Walking"
Qweyku Dec 2023
The beauty of a snowflake is
seed with impurity.
A dust atom the foundation
of its crystallisation.

An air of heaven meeting earth,
a divine tango of melting gracefulness;
watering this cold cursed Earth

© Qwey.ku 2023
Science observes all snowflakes are marked with the number six. And like Adam are formed from dust.
Zywa Nov 2023
I said what I thought

I knew about dust, that it --


does not turn to dust.
Poem "stof" (2008, "dust", 2011, Ronelda Kamfer)

Collection "Germ Substance"
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2023
When I pick up my pen
        She comes first.
When I land on the dust
         I am a stranger!
Zelda Jun 2023
We kept waiting...

Exhausted
Another treatment, another doctor, another realization
More medication, more promises, there is no solution
You still can't shed your scales, your scars, your skin
No more pain

...guess I was hoping...

I don't want to be drunk while I'm loving you
I'll lose myself when I lose you
Twenty thousand leagues within
the city of Angels that was supposed to save you

...but in the end...

We are bathed
In golden rays
And my fingertips heal the shadows on your face
We'll share tangerines and the rest of these drowsy days
In white rooms where weathered vinyl tiles echo like a knife on a bottle

...there was nothing left to do...

I pour my love over your grave
And I wait for the wind to rise
I alway thought my soul was a crystal to be shattered
But it's dust to be scattered throughout the cosmos
Don't wait for me
I sit with the mourning waiting for the morning
To rise for a new day
But it never comes
It's just another day

...my faith has fallen...

What a beautiful age you were
Anais Vionet Jun 2023
We are poor creatures
slimy organs imprisoned in flesh.
The sun burns us, water drowns us
our lives are rough and short,
we’re little more than talking dust.

We all howl with angry doubts.

Our art may dry and chip
our science could let us down,
our poets stammer and grow quiet.

Humanity has always been imperfect,
but some of us are trying. We see the stars,
we know passion, we sing and dance
and are indomitable - join us-
because the best is yet to come
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Indomitable: “impossible to defeat or discourage”

http://daweb.us/mmp3/dust.mp3
lua May 2023
it's dusty, i swipe grime off my skin
my memories piled up in stacks of
knick-knacks, yellowed notebook pages,
and drawings from when i was twelve
i haven't cleaned my room in a year
too scared, anxious
to touch anything
the fear of breaking my fragile sense of identity
that i've clung to

it's desperate, lonely
sleeping in a dusty room

i wipe the sweat from my forehead
cobwebs weave through my strands
clinging in clumps as i
rummage through my belongings

i hadn't seen these things in a while
remnants of when i was
happier, even though i said i wasn't

i'm a year older again
and soon i will be years and years older
and i will leave this room behind

for now,
as i stay for
a little bit longer
let me revert back into
the child i was.
Zywa Apr 2023
The prelate opens

the ancient reliquary:


holy is the dust.
Novel "The time of the angels" (1966, Iris Murdoch), § 3

Collection "Unspoken"
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