Archive for novel

Radioactive Water to a Whale

Posted in Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 8, 2019 by dustus

A Con Artist had sold
Radioactive water to a Whale 
Who then crapped Titanic Turdbergs
So no ships could ever sail

The people were livid
The coastguard got pissed
Nobody could swim
Those turds killed all the fish!

A myriad of sea-life
Suffered mass genocide:
Lobster, otter, shark, crab
All plants & octopi

Manatees…. gone
No turtles survived
Seals chose to cliff-dive
To hasten their demise

This carnage spread far worse than
Any epic algae bloom
Birds perished in mid-air
From mad wafting toxic fume

Tourism soon died
Commercial ports had shut down
& the Con Artist counted (while laughing aloud):
Every last clam that Whale had shelled out–
He hoped to find pearls
Prying open their mouths

As for that sick Whale
While he took his last breath
He knew he’d been poisoned
By the real Moby-Dick

 

Dying Requests

Posted in Image Poetry, One Shoot with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 13, 2011 by dustus

Before I die
Light these Roman candles
Like a bartender pours 3 double-shots in a row
Across glass molds formed from ounces blown

Without break to flow phelgmatic
In jest congestion; the hypocritically kind—
Exiled into passive-aggression
Too young for hardened arteries
Too old repeats inside my mind 

Biochemical cured concrete
Spun within human drums
Arrhythmic beatings
Spread feelings harden

Dendritic shorts come to naught
Failed circuit switch
Mined powder, dementia

Whitewashing anguish
Extinguishing, we perish
Each cause ill fate
Go ahead and stare
at me…
I will never blink
Being partly there

No smoking hot Medusa
Wilting willow hair for snakes

Think of me as Dostoyesky

Hearing appraisal howls

Trumpet blares, wailing wolf

Rejoicing from inner war

Before night quells peace

When missing sentences kill

Me, Anna Karenina

This solitude, an empty room

Torture acts
Beyond contemplation
Mourning life
Lost sight
Truth lies
Self taken

Arresting spirit, one-way vacation
Upon snowflake-pattern doily
A flower vase empty, missing blooms
Frost replaced spring afternoons
Table-sized at grandma’s
Fighting epileptic agony
“Verily, Verily, I say unto you,”
What is memory
When depression wills?
Light unto infinity
Judgments nobody asks until

Engravement upon his tombstone
Please
“Except a corn of wheat fall
Into the ground and die

When hammers chiseling tragedy
Carved below an arc of slate
To make the place of rest, decay
For all our flesh
That is fate
We are the dirt
I am afraid

Cancer sticks
They too pass on
Dismissed, not lit
Tasting chemically bitter
Having lost rounds through half-life
Eclipsed sunshine; wax-sealed
Penny lain upon each eye
As the music leaves
This prop stands, waiting
For someone to finally don’t shoot me

________________
Want to take a Listen?

*This poem is my response to the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. The prompt was shot by photographer Fee Easton, featured today on One Stop Poetry.

Presto Breeze (Haiku)

Posted in haiku, Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on July 26, 2010 by dustus

Presto breeze mug plumes
Morning dew damps cold feet squish
Garden prompts novel

High School Asylum (Reading from Ch.4)

Posted in Blog, education, Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , , on June 28, 2010 by dustus

The following audio clip is a reading from High School Asylum


High School Asylum by Adam Dustus
Copyright 2009
(cover by Keven Lupien)

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Thank You, Judge 20!

Posted in Blog, education, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 26, 2010 by dustus

Through a letter from Jessica Strawser, Editor of Writer’s Digest, I was informed that I was not among the winners of the 17th Annual Writer’s Digest International Self-Published Book Awards.

However, attached with the rejection letter was the evaluation of my book, which I have decided to post…
_______________________________________________________
On a scale of 1 to 5,  with 1 meaning “poor” and 5 meaning “excellent,” please evaluate the following:

Plot: 5,  Grammer: 5,  Character development: 5,  Cover Design: 4

Judge’s Commentary:
What did you like best about this book?

High School Asylum is one of the best written and most original of all the novels I’ve read for this competition—emphasis on original.  I’ve read some good stories and some beautiful stories for this competition, but this is the most original.  Reality is always uncertain in this novel as it is in real life, and no more tenuous is reality than at a high school.  The narrative voice is marvelously engaging and likeable: “Even though I don’t have any real friends other than Jenny, I knew many personal details about other people that only a true friend could know.  So what if Teresa wanted to be Cinderella when we would play war. How could I forget that she always wanted Billy to save her from some fire-breathing Cyclops that sprung from her imagination?  The fantasy was always different, and so were the three of us back then.”  Wonderful dialogue.  Beautiful descriptive details.

How can the author improve this book?

I’m not sure what I want, but it seems the cover could be more attractive and evocative.  In a way, the cartoonish figure on the front of the novel is consistent with certain themes, but certainly all the characters have far more depth than any cartoon.  I’d maybe like to see the image of the “silver moon swelled like a glowing beach ball” on the cover.  In terms of an author fulfilling his intentions, this is just about the best book in the competition—not a book for conventional tastes but a book that should find and deserves to find an appreciative audience of intelligent, broad-minded readers.
_____________________________________________________

Thank You, Judge 20!