Pseudopsychosis.

It will be home upon the fields.

vanishing, apparition
burning upon the birth
in a final scene: breathing to 
dying; and now nothing is visible,
vines twist, a stain in the moon-eye,
crisscrossing your babies and opus tragedies;
it’s the brute, it’s the face
of windows eyed with soot
gaze pure ash; there is nothing
more than flesh and bone
filling with dust around the 
trees;

identical to working hands
in dirty dust 
it will be home upon the fields,
and I was only 
in the messianic eyes
twitching,

as air is eaten from me
as silhouettes dance, hands dressing
in red; I close my eyes somehow still breathing
as cold-blooded a miracle
years on.

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a poem incorporating setting (specific or descriptive).

I wrote this about the Dust Bowl, while listening to Straightline by Pete Bernard. I always associated that song with the Dust Bowl especially with some of the lyrics.

Lucy

“Poetess of darkness”–dVerse community; cat hoarder, guitarist, keyboardist, psych major.

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37 responses to “It will be home upon the fields.”

    • The home in the fields inspired anguish, in my poem, as either the house with dust and soot under the windows or the farming practices (topsoil erosion being a cause) that led to soil turning to dust that would eventually be blown in the wind.

      It just stays in my mind, the tragedy of it. So much death.

      Thank you for your feedback.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  2. I don’t know why, but the phrases, “it’s the brute, it’s the face” struck me as especially menacing, and laid down the pain inherent to the setting most vividly for me.Beautifully written, Lucy.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  3. I could hear Woody Guthrie crooning in the background. You had me at “it’s the brute, it’s the face, of windows eyed with soot, gaze pure ash.” and” and I was only in the messianic eyes, twitching.”

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  6. A powerful scene you have painted for us Lucy. This part:
    it’s the brute, it’s the face
    of windows eyed with soot
    gaze pure ash; there is nothing
    more than flesh and bone
    filling with dust around the
    trees;

    Reminds me of the time, a volcano erupted and all the grains of sands was everywhere. It was just dust – dust everywhere, from the sky to the city, to inside our homes. Thanks so much for writing to the prompt. Hope all is well.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    • Thank you so, so much Grace! I love your feedback. I must also thank you for the intriguing, engaging prompt at dVerse. I just had to write to it, and the Dust Bowl kept swirling throughout my mind.

      I hope all is well with you too! Stay healthy and safe. ❤️

      Like

      Reply

  7. I close my eyes somehow still breathing
    as cold-blooded a miracle
    years on

    How memories can still affect us even years after. This the beauty of being there for the first time where all are new to us. Beautiful write Lucy!

    Hank

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  8. Your ending is wonderfully full of imagery…
    as air is eaten from me
    as silhouettes dance, hands dressing
    in red; I close my eyes somehow still breathing
    as cold-blooded a miracle
    years on.

    A we all will be at home as we rest in the dust of the field!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  10. I had visions of some kind of Dust Bowl scenery before I read your explanation, Lucy. I love the mystery and intrigue in the title line ‘it will be home upon the fields.’ It made me think of Terrence Malik’s ‘Badlands.’ Just so atmospheric and wonderfully done!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  11. I felt the pain and despair in this poem, Lucy, at ‘working hands’ having to live in such a god-forsaken place, where ‘nothing is visible’. These lines are so powerful:
    ‘it’s the brute, it’s the face
    of windows eyed with soot
    gaze pure ash; there is nothing
    more than flesh and bone
    filling with dust around the
    trees’,
    as is the phrase ‘air is eaten from me’.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    • Ground control to major Rob, hahaha. 😁

      I read your lovely poem and will comment on it sometime today. I honestly wouldn’t want to be earthbound after reading it–a certain freedom in flight expressed that makes a person feel truly alive.

      Like

      Reply

      • I am back, just as I threatened Lucy… 😉 oh, dark and unsettling piece — but so damned engaging. It brought to mind war, and that powerfully destructive essence. “ there is nothing more than flesh and bone filling with dust around the trees;” Ironically, I also hot a sense of “planting” from your piece. A real Yin Yang experience, that I thoroughly enjoyed. I don’t know if you paint, but if you did, I know I would love the abstract nature of your work

        Liked by 1 person

      • It was about time you made good on that threat! 😄 I was waiting. Thank you so much for the encouraging comment. I am so glad you enjoyed reading my piece, and I wish I could paint. I’ve dabbled lightly into sketching but when I have more free time soon, I’d like to see what I can pursue with that and if I can create something sustainable as art. I could only wish to create an art piece that is abstract as half of my poems seem. Thank you for your kind words and support, as always! It truly means a lot to me. I hope all is well with you. ❤

        Like

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