Monday, November 29, 2010

Playing Outside The Realms



















Dirt

Small particles of dust, decay, and
disintegrated rock matter
collecting under our feet
under our fingernails
in the folds and wrinkles of our skin
melding with liquid or oils
in our eyes
when the wind blows
what is and what was

Dirt...

moves from one place to another
riding freely
on tongues
disgraceful gossip
about the private lives of others
soiling reputations in the garden
of good and evil
If looked at with a microscope
you will see, a whole other world
of damage and waste


Also, I have been singing this song while searching for an ole recipe my mom used to make. I did change up the lyrics some...

My momma done tol' me/ when I was a young girl/ men won't stop- no/
until they get what they want/so- go ahead and sail/ down rivers of
heartbreak/ it works both ways/ yeah- a woman'll sweet talk/ revenge and scorn/ leavin men beggin for more...

(from Blues In The Night by Johnny Mercer/composed by Harold Arlen)

6 comments:

Liz Mays said...

Oh wow, I think this is my fave of yours, E!!!!

Just telling it like it is said...

You said it sister!! Men don't quite till they have what they want!! Can wait to see you!!!!

farmlady said...

A kind reminder or are there problems a foot?
I really like this poem. It's edgy...

Chef E said...

Just playing with words farmlady- although a conversation about dirty socks recently came about!

Toon said...

Dirt is a constant. It's what we all eventually become.

Jessie Carty said...

i agree with the other comments. this is a really strong piece! sometimes the simple topics yield the best stuff :)