I Love The Dirt

A turn on the highway,
Is where I stand.
A gust of dust,
And I am dirty again.
How i wish for the rain,
Every moment of my life.
To wash away my limbs,
For my dignity to be glorified.
You pity for my dusty parts,
But never dare you to clean me.
My lean arms move out to the sky,
Like the ones asking to be freed.
But i become dirty just again,
Not looking like a tree to bear lovely babies.
I see the poor stumps of my friend,
Who have been ransacked of their lives.
By the sweet smelling demons within us,
I too know what awaits me from them,
In a couple of days when i would also be devoured.
Robotic hands scratch endlessly,
On my dear mother's skin.
Not knowing what harm it will bring,
To you my man; you will realize soon.
But until you do, I will live on,
'cause you need me,
Till the last breath of your life.
I will live for you even if you don't feel my need,
'cause how I love the sweetly perfumed dirt.
Comments & reviews · 3
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User avatar
Macyblak
Review

I really liked this piece, but I have a problem with this poem:
The entire poem has no clear distinction of stanzas and is like one giant lump of words.
Other than that, really liked it. Though the Imagery was spot on, really.
Good work, my friend.

Thanks a ton! Will try to improve on your points.

User avatar
Hymar Review
Hymar wrote a review · Mon Dec 31, 2012 4:07 pm

It is kinda ironic you love the dirt yet desire cleansing. It is obvious you are in a jam, torn between your need for a cleansing rain- a change, a renewal- while holding on to the ghosts of familiarity. A part of you knows that hanging onto the dirt is suicidal as well as hovering around 'the highway where you stand'. But it is obvious you are young, reckless and free-spirited, thus you ignore the skull signs of incipient doom as exemplified in the 'stumps of my friend(s) who have been ransacked of their lives'.
A good piece overall.

Thank you. I will surely try to improve on the hints you people have offered me.

User avatar
Firestarter
Review

Hi dikxita,

I immediately spotted your first problem -- passive voice. Passive voice can be a killer in poetry. It's attractive to the writer because it feels kind of old and grand and poetic, but really, it's not. What sounds better for your first few lines? Your choice or something like this:

I stand on a turn
in the highway,
a gust of dust
dirties me again.

One is active and punchy and the other is flat and hard to read. Avoid passive voice unless you've got a very good reason!

Another problem you have is not proof-reading your work. You have a few uncapitalised I in the poem you need to fix.

Okay, now for the actual meat of the content itself. Your theme is a bit messy. We've got robotic hands in there, a tree bearing lovely babies, sweet smelling demons. I'm a bit confused who the narrator is -- I assume he might be a tree? And then the robotic hands are human tools tearing them down? Anyway, me being confused is not a good state for you. Sure, poetry should have mystique, but it should also have hints and clues for me to be able to find my way in. Tie your adjectives and images together to form a unified front.

I found the narrator just too whiny. Can a tree navel gaze? I don't know. But it certainly seems to here. Okay, so bad things are happening. But who really wants to hear about it in such a whiny, self-indulgent way? I'd prefer a stronger tree (assuming he is a tree) who is more stalwart and brave against the situation, not sounding like a human teenager. Think on that.

Language issues: I didn't like the 'cause you used twice. I don't really see the need for the contraction. Enlighten me?

Good luck with any revisions.

Thanks for the really good review.
I will try to cover up my mistakes next time I sit to write something.
Whatever you said was indeed useful to me. Thanks again.



We know what a person thinks not when he tells us what he thinks, but by his actions.
— Isaac Bashevis Singer