Writer’s Block by Adam Dustus

Posted in Image Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 19, 2010 by dustus

The One That Got Away

Posted in One Shoot, One Stop Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on July 16, 2011 by dustus

I loved her, honest
Warm shoulder, face, soft eyes
Mostly imagined, as well as initial
Surprise pet names
Rats make for a stupid hat
Dancing spastic to Sinatra’s pack…
If like-attracts-like
Then I am insane

Benighted cotton balls, human
Upon magellin’ hair
Sniffling through catacombs—
Their ancestors spared
Licking skull eye sockets
Smelling condensed blood
Without squeaky pre-flights
No airline cruising bag of nuts
Nor fearing yawlps from elephants
Over cobalt blue tears
Coloring Ulysses butterfly
I’ll never tell—Pinky & Brain swear
Because one never really knows why
Some cast a wicked spell
Knowing it’s not healthy: staring into glare
Though rodents tickle smile growth
Your left side looks so dark and scared

Like unto her, recognized one
Took held breath from my yesterdays
Making me finally cut; the bleeding runs
Strolling edit, weekends come
Always wanting, aching fade
Craving thrills, smelling grave
Fair nuanced shake
I’ll squeeze that sponge
Drink lips, fears, spiked pain
As tales trail sensing time frames
Independent journey pines for nothing
Now, except sapling splinters— 
A privilege being a writer
Fucking sue me; one-shoot-me
Looking past this, future smiles
While mental illness crying fire
Patrons trample burning aisles
Saying cheese, final friend
When love is all I want and need
Until we meet again—

From Skinner’s lair to inside trees
Panopticons and lakeside springs 
Postcard composure
Photographs, dreams
Through notes, held keys
Wind-song through reeds while
The one who kept me up at night
Feeling nothing except history
That part of me… faux enemy

Died today
Remembering with a sigh
Will never be the same

Goodbye, One Stop

___________________________________________________
Care for a reading of The One That Got Away?

*spectacular photography by Rosie Hardy

Chris G… wish you a fantastic new beginning, my friend.  Learned a great deal from you, and have high expectations for your future accomplishments. All the best for a great start in CO! Don’t be a stranger.

Final Words of Thanks….
I really don’t know what to say, and I’ve thought about it obsessively, go figure…. Guess it’s kind of hitting me all at once now. To sum up the journey, I’ve learned more about writing and poetry from real writers—dedicated, intrepid blogging souls— who bring their best efforts forth just about every week, even when they don’t link up, or opt to send poetic tweets. Through One Shot Wednesday and Form Mondays (each day really) I feel like I received a poetic education—gleaming gems of knowledge and inspiration prompting me to experiment with varied styles, take notes, make conscious decisions through my work. Those lessons prove invaluable; and Sundays, well, I never expected it to turn out so great. Big credit to Chris, and to everyone who posted and shared their thoughts with us. I’m grateful for your heartwarming kindness and encouragement.

Cheers.

Peace.
dustus

The Walking Dead

Posted in One Shoot, One Stop Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , on July 9, 2011 by dustus

Can this be hell?
What can I tell?
False perceptions
Frozen stroll—

Distorting what one
Thinks too…
No

Sense expansion among possible side effects

Light severs eyes with flooding lens
Ghosts trod hunchbacked in marching bend
Warning sign an angry red
Tears may shed without regret
It’s not about what others get

Fugue state alters how some stand
Caught amid processional blend
As fear surreal, can’t comprehend
What we perceive may be pretend

And it is your dream…

That needed to amend
While higher consciousness attends

No outlet taped to concrete block
Transit rumbling after shock
Their streaking frames in motion caught
Silent nightmare scene
Rose-tinted land
Watch us go by
The walking dead

___________________________________________________
Want to listen to The Walking Dead?
Next Sunday will be my last post for
One Stop Poetry
.

I’d like to thank all of you who have supported my work and encouraged me to write my best.  And special thanks to Chris G. for turning One Shoot Sunday into something great.  We’re sorry to see it end. Thank you for your understanding and for sharing your amazing work with us on Sunday.

*photo by outstanding photographer Neil Alexander

Wish Again

Posted in One Shoot, One Stop Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 25, 2011 by dustus


We move in step

Our pace succinct
Gaining strength
From weakened knees
Chest hive shaking butterflies
Exorcised to far side of trees

I’m not sure if this is real
Can’t believe just how I feel
Falling over the bridge to up
Each move un-knots
Sore landing spots
Sandpaper shuffles
At her flip-flopped feet
Living in arbor seas of green
Forgetting planks
Arched frown toward peace

Showing way to finally reach

Had me tongue-raveled
Talking of so many things
First loves
Lame high school scenes
College majors
Burning dreams
Books
Future
Failure
Depression
Creativity therein
What we’ll be
Depends upon
More than might
Brush off
Touch, set fire
In blue jeans
Live wiring
Electricity shorts out
Words come easy
Curtail breath
Over this stream
Two lives cross
Looking up to each other
With smiles content to spend
Reciprocal grins and sugar touch
Lakeside picnic basket lunch

here, her
Seeking
w
a
t
e
r
f
a
l
l
s


………………………………….…As time trails
Through forest clearing
……………..Floating together
…………………………
tender warm wakes

Learned strides pasture worst mistakes
Full knowing now that she can hang—
Rather walking in serenity hand in hand
Where we miss and wish again
Discovering more than being happy
Finding joy that isn’t planned

___________________________________________________
Want to listen to Wish Again?
The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Chris G. interviews Adam Romanowicz at One Stop Poetry. Fantastic photographer!

Can’t Wait

Posted in One Stop Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , on June 21, 2011 by dustus

Tongue bit, clamped
Could taste it bleed
Mixed with saliva
Stifling cries of, “Please
Baby, don’t leave!”

Enter time’s return rush
Knowing regressions
From cross words
Puzzlement, smell salts
Warped log cabin of make believe
Where cathedral ceilings brace—
Maple syrup drawn from intimacy
Guess I never expressed—
What she had once meant to me

Sh…
Hermit crab lurches
Like an old man with crooked legs
Hubble, hobble, watch ‘em wobble
Through scopes of spray mist…
Over canvas beach
Pebbles smooth, tide swell
Scuttle into eternity

Sounds from perplexed hearts
Crests sharp—over barbs and bark
Trapper claw snaps down
Spits out entrails
As the earth spins side projections
Giving to new life…

Finding spirit on skewed point
Dissecting mind
Without reach
Emptiness cradles stars
In the wake of shedding duck trails
Shimmering waters, ululations glisten
Dovetails, and billowed sails
Shy eyes hid behind hair sway
Sky climb to a golden age
Those autumn harvest days
When life sighs, breath held
Chest tight, on deck over water main
We rage against dying light
Run out of what we mean
Pour one for me
Red wax drips lethargic
Myopic, uptight
Revealing myself
Wounds close as I write
“Can’t wait until love
Will finally feel right.”

__________________________________________________________
Care for a reading of Can’t Wait?

One Shot Wednesday (Week 51)
@ One Stop Poetry
It’s my turn to host!

Visions From Kool Aid

Posted in One Shoot, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 18, 2011 by dustus

photo by Chris Galford

So he lives!
Spray upon white brick
Smile, Ray Bans
Peace flashing
Visions from Kool-Aid breakthrough…
Sun beam reflects light

_______________________________________________________________________
Want to listen to Visions From Kool Aid?

The above poem, in Shadorma form, was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge.  Chris G. took over and Lansing-graffitied the post for today. Check it out at One Stop Poetry.


“Shadorma is a 6 line poem (sestet) of Spanish descent with no set rhyme scheme. The shadorma is a syllabic poem with the following structure: 3/5/3/3/7/5″

Eavesdropping

Posted in One Shoot, Poetry Reading, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , on June 11, 2011 by dustus

photo by Rob Hanson

Above this dusty relic phone
Laughter spring sentience
A map of soles
Connects body
Instep…

Movement calling arches;
Come in arches—
Convivial apogees
for filigree
Mechanisms fuse wire, ligaments
It’s cliché to say when you least expect it
Like news, dropping bombs without warning
To lose yourself through charged sentiment
Returning to amend again
Biochemical remnants
Stains memory into the glass of years
That should forever
Never
Stand
Your silence…

Five-alarm warnings, imploring, before life ends
Regrets that, meant, honor, discontent, mendicant
More when voices
Distill vibrations
Rendering whispers…
Most soothing…
Feathered sighs…
Intimate

Do I spy falsies?
Maybe that’s clear
Levity during tears for mortality
Intense, sears carving reality
As tragedy snuffs out waning night
Death pronouncements through the tunneled ear
Cease climbing toward the apex right
When singing bird chirps fill the morning air

Yes, I’m missing sweet words
The ones that we hold dear
Recalling felt a soft smooth face
Even hang ups, wrong numbers

Just wishing love to hear

___________________________________________________
Want to listen to Eavesdropping?
The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Rob Hanson took the fantastic HDR photo. Today, it is Part 2 of Mr. Hanson’s interview with Chris G. at One Stop Poetry. Awesome photographer. Go check out the interview.

A Life That Works

Posted in One Stop Poetry, Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 7, 2011 by dustus

I’d like to share a happy song
Figure out what does go wrong
Itching scalp from burning sun
Seldom let myself have fun…

Want it real?
Sushi raw?
Lacerations from a jaded saw?
I’d like to tell you how I feel
Man up from clown
Stand ground, appeal

Layers of an onion shed
Nightmare turns away pretend
The ceiling shows time’s twisted flow
Adjusting eyes tune street lamp glow

These walls are bare
As will, heartbeats
Jugular, nose
Breathe, repose
This is what a writer chose
As muffled echos ocean close
Interstate drone
Time alone
Everything I wrote and own
Spells drip catching studio skylight—
Wings melt into a candle vigil and
A life that works
Perceived self-worth
To walk this earth
Past pain, main, rebirth
Limbs coated with sweat
My pride, hair, and dirt

__________________________________________________________
Care for a reading of A Life That Works?

One Shot Wednesday (Week 49)
@ One Stop Poetry
Host: this week the honor goes to
poet & friend, Mr. Brian Miller

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