Dost Years (poem) by David Lester Young on AuthorsDen

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Dost Years

by David Lester Young — Read all 1,103 poems by David Lester Young

This is a dire comment to another poem that turned into this UniVerse reflection.

Time wrought dye see shores, rip tide a Wake, thy high pentacle point expectation, lifetime zip line, switch dew point quickly descends, convoluted - I to seeing eye, amongst troubadour bard pin pricked verbiage, a gist lifelines dill bearing, dye HeART Beats thunder stuck graven woven mask, rasps off helter-skelter fraught mountain mired rusk stain, where drip drop struck lightning dost knot rhyme, Too Bee dew teared moisture pain, reign ring bark ward baptismal showers bearing mirrored word self-worth reflection reckoning woe. Dew Thunder Cap Dye I To Eye

This comment became poem "Dew Thunder Cap Dye I To Eye
."

Sunday, May 2, 2021

Dost Years

Thirst thorn pricked
weathers ruts
worn-torn
out side empty space
sown soles ache
asunder flaming
American fraught
pyre funeral ashes
that BeCome -
windblown blank verse
slipknot stitches
that wail
solitary confinement
being Bee strung cry -
overturned a lone prick
plying over churned verbiage
composted from grave
pick pocket hell-holes
that rake bare
entrails souls
whilst dire rape
dew wilts words away
long ago vanquished
amid lisp tongue-tied mime
whence wicked witch switches
American Dusk Dreams
a gasp poetic waste-land
deserted grave grasping
rasp robbed desecrated
dost years.

Thirst thorn pricked, weathers ruts worn-torn, out side empty space, sown soles ache, asunder flaming American fraught pyre funeral ashes, that BeCome - windblown blank verse slipknot stitches, that wail solitary confinement, being Bee strung cry - overturned a lone prick, plying over churned verbiage, composted from grave pick pocket hell-holes, that rake bare entrails souls, whilst dire rape, dew wilts words away, long ago vanquished, amid lisp tongue-tied mime, whence wicked witch switches American Dusk Dreams a gasp poetic waste-land deserted grave grasping rasp robbed desecrated dost years.

HeArtMosphere Poet

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Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on May 3, 2021

A complete violation of loss and misery beginning at the time a young man should be about to burst forth into adulthood, but cut short by military obligation. And then found work in the military-industrial complex has a automaton step in the sequence of construction. Only to be abandoned for the simple act of insanity through poetry.

Sad but true, through and through.

Ron

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