poetrymotion
 

lets see if this idea takes

read the topic/ write a poem

todays topic : dirt

grit in my teeth
time itself salting my tongue
which ancient rock seeded your birth
lying beneath
making all things look young
why call you something as quiet as dirt

dirt

we are born from it
when we die we end up there
it will always be

raked upon flesh
we are purified
sticky situations born from dilmna
we are forever frozen within its shadow
for ever nestled we taste the posinoness stains of reality.
the true notion that whereever we are and whatever we do
we create dirt.
Even the most beutifull painting is just another prism of Debree upon a naked earth.

Nice