Culling through the spoils of the earth
Commanding time and space to part their ways
Searching, searching in vain?
Or is this search one of absolute truth?
The dirt stains my hands, my fingers, my life, my soul
Digging and palming incessantly into the core of our planet
Thrusting and pulling and grabbing and yanking away the remnants of what once was
Decayed remains, the soul of our planet, our life
Bodies of a thousand years past falling through the crescent of my hands
Is this just mere dirt, then? Or something more?
For every particle of dust I discard is an old particle of life
It once claimed ownership to a body, a being, an organism
Until that day in which its life flew away and its body fell useless and broken
Alone and still it stayed until today when I brought it back to life
Until today when I shook the earth with my bare hands
Until today when I traded dirt for diamonds
Author notes
The dirt made me think of what dirt really was. Dead, broken down bodies. And then I thought about what would happen if someone was searching for life in this place of death.
A contest entry
- Abstract Poetry #31 -Dirt For Diamonds- by The Cube.
500 points, ended November 5, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Very interesting. A new take on the subject and the contest. Good abstract thinking, and not to mention a great write over all. This definately took some real thought to create such an illusion that you explained. Great work.
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