Wednesday, November 26, 2008


by Mental Mist

Grief of the elements - Earth

she spun out castles far and wide
with the uncut souls of every season
masterpieces from the missing centuries
in every seeking mind
many many castles in the air
one solitary on the ground
guarded with her blood
shelter for her running spirit

they flocked from every land sea to taste
her enchanted houses of myriad intensity
little air pockets of visceral charm
throbbing with the harmony of sound
from the volcanic flash
to the whispered pollen seed

they swayed in her eternal spell
and she opened her heart in delight
for the worthy to come and see
the castle on the ground
that held her deepest mysteries

their visions of the apparent
saw a vast dullbare desert
in midst of her artistry
they destroyed the ground fort
an easy-ruthless sweep
and begged her to draw more in the sky

she looked down at the remains
of her once beating heart
blood running in its moat
saw them clear for the first time
saw her for the first time
flinching at the twisted shell
that was her in their eyes

she turned her back on they
who wouldn't see into the trees
who couldn't dig
to raise a forest for her fort
only lay yellow flowers
plucked from another grave
withering into fluorescent sins
on her bloody moat

she lived drawn within a secret forever
her body marked in beautiful sores
burned memories of every pain
some remembered, caressed
dried depths of broken rivers
others gently laid to rest
the sores that were never hers

© 2008  Mental Mist

Mental Mist: Earth is the most forgiving of the elements and the most unforgiving. She does not forget. Every tin can we throw, every tree we cut, every car we run, she dies a little bit more. We who live off her die a little bit more. Her grief is there for everyone to see, in the stinking rivers we pass by, in the deformed children of nuclear clouds, in the parched barren lands where trees used to be ...

Mental Mist is a transient life form on this vast earth. You can find more of her writings in


  1. That is a wonderful epic poem resonant with intelligence and a joy in and control over the language. So many fine touches and mind swirls.

  2. This is errily beautiful a lot of Mental Mist's writings are.


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