Friday, June 27, 2014

Dust


Before the ways of the pretentious 
Became the way of the shaman 
The belief in thyself was looked down upon 
Like the confession of a killer 
In the eyes of a hero 

The pedestal is made of gravel 
That falls from beneath the gates of heaven 
To furnish the devil's playground 
Like meteors in their own right 

The pebbles turn to sand 
And find solace boxed in 
By the wood of those who have drifted


©2014 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.
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34 comments:

Brian Miller said...

really intriguing progression in this one anthony...i have a fear of pedestals...they are too easy to fall from...smiles...belief in yourself...without it what do you have....well i guess you are lost to the devils playground eh?

Mary said...

I think everyone's pedestals eventually crumble and turn into gravel and then sand. And I do hope that some way solace is found at the end of the journey....for everyone. Wondering if the 'boxed in wood' is a coffin.

brudberg said...

I love the sentiment.. I got to think about the overzealousness of the narcissistic ideas of today.. and indeed we might actually be standing on top of crumbling pedestals - looking skyward as we sink into the pebbles six foot under.

Claudia said...

read this several times and love how everything flows stanza to stanza and influences what comes next... the whole pedestal - gravel - sand image is cool
woot - looking forward to your hosting tonite!

Anonymous said...

So thought-provoking Anthony.. and how the gravel sifts to sand and blows away.. I love the way you have explored this idea of shifting ideologies and the supremacy of 'I'. The only certainty .. I think.. is drift :)

Katie Mia Frederick said...

Haha..well there's no chance i'll ever be on a pedestal.. that fate i seal myself..but faith in myself will lead away from sand boxed outside instead of dust floating in the wind...

But anyway..i love your words here as they lead to

contemplation
like this...

as such....:)have a great Summer 2!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

"The pedestal is made of gravel
That falls from beneath the gates of heaven"
What incredible lines. This poem is very intriguing, Anthony. Loved it.

mrs mediocrity said...

I really love how this builds on that one simple word: dust. and that last line is killer. a really tight, well-woven poem.

Anonymous said...

This poem makes one think about what is important... Well done!

Anonymous said...

Every pedestal has shattered and everyone has drifted. A majestic tone to the poem, dark. Something to read several times in a row.

Scarlet said...

Depends on the perspective, depends on beliefs...we all fall into dust & sandbox in the end ~ I like the contrast (pretentious/shaman, killer/hero) ~ Have a lovely weekend ~

Grace

Anonymous said...

so, i guess you will not be watching tele-evangelists tomorrow morning. I find a lot of truth in your words, or at least a lot I agree with. Well done.

Susan said...

Drift wood and dusty boxes of gravelly sand seem to be on a shore where tides no longer play, where thirst must reign instead of the gentle rain of mercy. Heavy stuff!.

Myrna R. said...

This poem has such depth. It's quite a commentary on today's attitudes. But, hopefully, some don't need a pedestal. It's good to stand on our own.

Anonymous said...

Found my self thinking how the hero, shaman, I, the pedestal, gravel, the tree, and the box holding solace - all have their time as dust - the almighty equalizer of the eye, any it and I.

Gabriella said...

Everybody can potentially fall from a pedestal since we are all humans after all. Therefore it is probably better not to put anyone up there and avoid downfalls and disappointments.

scotthastiepoet said...

Seriously stretching and ambitious work Anthony that reaches deep... Loved your last stanza especially:

"The pebbles turn to sand
And find solace boxed in
By the wood of those who have drifted" Great stuff - seriously good... Thanks for a great read With Best Wishes Scott www.scotthastie.com

Uneven Stephen said...

Daaaamn. Powerful as always, Anthony. I had to re-read it a couple times. I could see the second two stanzas stand complete as its own poem, but maybe that's me. Strong work my friend.

kaykuala said...

Being put on a pedestal gives the impression one is blessed with noble thoughts and noble intentions. So much so people will look up to one's own. Certainly not easy to reach such levels. Powerful write Anthony!

Hank

Beachanny said...

Great work Anthony - the hubris that comes before the fall. I agree, quite powerful.

Truedessa said...

A pedestal can be a dangerous place to be put on..as it can be a long hard fall ..I read this a couple of times as I wanted to understand the view. You write from an interesting perspective.

Marina Sofia said...

An intriguing poem, far more complex than is immediately obvious. I've done a bit of research into shamans, so know something of their outsider status - very often, they were epileptics finding a way to handle their fits in a positive manner. I'll have to reread this several times and interpret it slightly differently each time. I love the flow it has to it.

vivinfrance said...

I prefer my feet to be firmly on the ground. Pedestals can be corrupting to those who feel themselves to be above us ordinary motrals! Good poem.

Anonymous said...

Yes, the ground is best. Having been burned once and deeply by a few people who set themselves up (and yes, I am angry at myself for believing in them), feet on the ground and following my gut instinct is the way for me. Very well written, Anthony.

ayala said...

This builds, we all turn to dust in the end. Pedestals are not a good place to be, too easy to fall from. An intense poem, Anthony.

Wolfsrosebud said...

do love the play on words with wood/drift... is sense hope in the sadness... also loved the contrast in many of the lines

Anonymous said...

I love this line: "The pedestal is made of gravel" and the final stanza.

Glenn Buttkus said...

A winner, brother, a strong message poetic, no F-words in sight, the creative anger well managed; very impressive; showing there is a hell of lot more to your poet's spectrum than protest, or rancor.

TCPC said...

its only faith in self that leaves footprints of legends...much for the solace of others to derive courage!

Anonymous said...

Ha - I too come here thinking wonder how many f-bombs - which is a discredit to a really strong writer. Probably just reflects on how the times have passed me by.

Anonymous said...

we need heroes - but attack them so harshly. Perhaps the gravel slides when one becomes inconsistent in how they live. Really like your work.

Anonymous said...

particularly drawn to the imagery in the 2nd and 3rd stanzas ~

Anonymous said...

Great symbols. The title is just perfect.

Unknown said...

Wow this is very intense and I like the idea of the pedestal almost being a mirage. Very nicely done.