Mr. Wind blows with violence
Mr Thunder proud and great
They are roaring like lions
Springing on easy bait

Mrs Lightning twice as worse,
Cracks her whip from the sky,
White and purple is her colour,
Dazzling to the naked eye.

Baby rain with happy feet,
Dance from roof to street
They all compete, but never meet,
Never greet  like neighbours.

Who will be the best disaster
Lightning, rain, thunder, wind,
There is only one master,
let the battle now begin

The waterlogged lands have long gone dry
The soil is lying cracked and parched
The frogs that crocked in shallow pools,
Nowhere on land or water to be seen
The once full river has thinned and narrowed
Into a greasy smudge of faded stain
On the long yard of brown earth
The road is a burning stretch of black
Sure it can make the water steam and sizzle
Quicker than in an electric ***
The sun is seen a flaming ball in the sky
Darting down spears of smarting beams


Heat like a spiteful scorpion’s sting
Burns the flesh and the bared scalp
Watermelons or chilled buttermilk
Cannot douse the midday heat
The fiery tongue of humid summer
Licks up the last residue of green
The woods dread the fall of a spark
That can ignite an inferno, anytime

The cattle stay still with frothy foam
Dripping down from their drooping tongues
A thirsty crow beside a dried up pond
Looks around for a drop of water
(But alas, not as lucky as the parable crow
That finds a jar of half filled elixir)
A line of black ants carry a carcass
Clambering up the cracked stump of a tree

The brown grass sings
And the Etna seethes!

When reason becomes unreasonable
I tear at the edge of the sky
And **** myself
To cancel my scars

Its so much bigger
So much
It is a massacre of the mind
And the way to reach the stars

My middling heart

I call your name

Knowing you could never save me