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TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
A physically saturated pluviophile is a soul that craves to intertwine themselves with the very deepest parts of thee.

In the eyes and heart of a pluviophile,
the rain is sunshine on an otherwise grey and cloudy day.

Make no mistake;

I am a pure breed when it comes to being/representing a "pluviophile".

The rain elicits the very deepest part of me without one moment's struggle.

It's a cleansing.
It's an act of purification.
It's a new beginning.

     A feeling of     new skin
and afflictions
  washed away.

A few still moments
  to breathe in
    the roses of
life.

  If you can not
=connect= with a
  "pluviophile"?

You're not
   'all wet'
but rather,
  as dry as the
saharan sand.

Come get
   wet
      with me...
        in
  the
     p
       u
         r
           p
             l
               e
   rain """""""""""
              '''''"""""""
    """""""""""""""

"""""­""""""""""""""""
        ' ' ' '    ' '
           '  '   '
               '
https://youtu.be/TvnYmWpD_T8
ryn  Aug 2014
Pluviophile
ryn Aug 2014
Standing at my window with an aching in my chest
Looking out the window as the rain poured down
Pondering hard if I could withstand this test
Fixed in a lost gaze; in tearful helplessness I drown.

The raindrops burst as they fall and hit the ground
Into a million droplets merging back into a puddle
Like muffled drumming, chaotic yet calming is the sound
Spellbound by it's sight, so beautiful...so subtle.

My eyes grow weary but still I wish to witness
These glassy beads falling enchantingly from the sky
Hoping it'll wash away the miss and all of it's madness
Felt the moist in the wind as it kissed my cheeks dry.

This magic before me, I can stare upon all night
For I love it so, it brings the solace I so have craved
Much like my love, I'd gaze upon her till the break of light
Wishing I could tell her of the love I've saved...
A K Krueger Mar 2015
Be my baby canopy,
cover me in emerald joy
in gales and gusts, sprays of rain,
Be the shield I shan't employ.

By the seaside running out
of staggered breath, though you know
how cherry my cheeks do get;
hurry, kiss them while they glow.

Be the leaves upon my arms
Flutter, whisper, rustle down
Till all I am is but a noun
held in your mouth, your throaty charm.

Brave the hurricanes with me,
I'll be the one who will not fly,
You'll be the baby's lullaby,
above the rain, so anchoring.

Watch the window, hear it creak
above the pitter patter plain,
bathe in the sorrow of the rain,
come up cleaner, with a squeak.

Be the breath upon the hearth
breathe deeply so your lungs are warm,
feel orange among the grungy storm;
grow a greenhouse in your heart.

Follow me out to the Mar,
walking down into the deep end
and down reproaches Heaven will send;
the solemn tear drops of a star.

Up we go, and all around,
Spin with me, collapse and cry,
Until the clouds do say 'Goodbye',
All we hear are hearts that pound.

In the aftermath, it shines,
Angelic pools, a chorus clear,
The silver light plays softly here
like no one once had shed a tear.
Now my heart chokes water, dear,
So hold your pluviophile near.
Lou Vaughn  Dec 2015
Pluviophile
Lou Vaughn Dec 2015
I want to live in a world where umbrellas don't exist
where no one runs to get out of the rain
where everyone stops
with eyes closed
heads laid back
and arms outstretched
welcoming every drop on their skin
as if each one is an intimate kiss
falling from the sky
Nadine Swain Dec 2014
when everyone
clings to their umbrellas
avoid puddles
and walk on damp earth

you will find her
dancing in the rain
and stops only
to smell the petrichor
Hope you guys like this one :) But if you want me to add some more stanzas, feel free to comment
Priya Prathap Apr 2017
First showers of the summer rain
Like a long awaited guest
From the sky came for a visit
Kissed the heart of the burned earth
Crushing the strata of heat and sweat
Cold drizzle spraying drop by drop
Gently over the cracked roof
Magical music of the summer showers
Mystic artwork for the little moments
Of lightning and heavy beats of thunder
Rain is singing in the right rhythm
Rain , Rain , sing again
Rain , Rain , come again
The Pluviophile sang from her window
Song of the drizzling rain always
Resonanced with the song of her soul
The Mellon  Oct 2016
Pluviophile
The Mellon Oct 2016
Pluviophile
(n) a lover of rain;
someone who finds joy and peace of mind
during rainy days.

Its raining again, I smile
The shadows of the droplets
Flickering in the window are juxtaposed upon my face.

I watch the delicate lines run down along my skin

Two of them parallel with eachother form a tic-tac-toe board
Between the shadows and the scars along my wrist

I chuckle with the morbid humor of carving in my first move. X. Bottom right corner

It's a smart move. I can move many ways to leave my opponent helpless

Distracted, I look again out the window.
I think about how as a child I watched
Wide eyed with ecstasy as two drops
One right next to the other
Edging
Edging
Edging forward.
One racing the other

Both eager to reach the window pain where they will finally be free of my unforgiving gaze

Last time I watched two drops race like that they were red.
The poor wood floor was stained with their bitter victory

I think now about that race.
Breaking my trance my eyes shutter over to the throw rug that I hide my sins under

I walk over and stand upon it.
I can just barely see the window from this angle.

I see the cold white tongue of lighting
Flickering it's serpents tongue in the distance

I remember a cold tongue.
The same one that degraded me
Told me nasty things

I remember walking threw the halls of school and hearing people muttering being me
'Look at her!'
'Hey guys who let the cattle out the barn?'
'Does she even own a shower?'
I felt spit sting the side of my face.

The crack of thunder brings me back,
I'm dizzy with displeasure
My blood has gone colder than before
Colder than the knife that cut me.

The rain intensifies as if it sees what I'm doing
What chaos I'm bestowing on myself

The smooth grip of my Father's 44 fits elegantly in my hand,
It feels like it's just an extension of myself,
As if it belongs there as much as my fingers do.
The chrome lined rifling grids out the direction of my bronze freedom fighter to fly

I look at the back of the barrel,
It reminds me of a toy spyglass I had when I was young,
**** the hammer

The thunder rumbles over the screams of my family...
I wrote this is a memento to how horrible depression is. It's not sugar coated. The fact that people don't like it when it is is nessisary. Those who beleave that depression shouldent be dark in explanation are those who need this the most. Editing credit to Anonymous Freak
Sam Lauzon  Nov 2013
Pluviophile
Sam Lauzon Nov 2013
People say they love the sunny days
I guess I like them too in some ways
But I honestly love the rain
Even if some people see it as a representation of heartbreak and pain
I see it differently
As the little drops fall on my skin so gently
Those little tears remind me of all the great memories
Like when I was five, in my garden with all the rain drenched daisies
Or when I was fifteen and I had my first kiss in the rain after school
Because when I'm in the rain I never feel like a fool
Pluviophile
(n) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days
Gaye  Sep 2015
pluviophile
Gaye Sep 2015
When the world spins, you look around and wonder
Who you are and where you belong?
And the whole world seems upside down.
The meaningless existence and angst
And the little scare around you
That makes you doubtful about the tomorrows.
I know this feeling
Because I was not myself with my sun sign
I was new, a totally different me
I tried to quit remembering
But I just can’t stop thinking that flows into me
It took me to unknown grounds, crowded towns and deep narrow lanes.
Alienation is not being alone
But the haunting strangeness of your thought process
And the feeling that comes along with it
To run away from the phony society
And seek an asylum in solitude.
We have a special thief inside us
A hunter who could grab our heart and body
And leave the motionless torso to wander in reality
Why shall I be forsaken?
I cannot trespass my broken images
They make a clear picture and meaning sometimes.
This pluviophile is lost today
With the intuition she felt so deep,
There is no recovery from this sentimental thrill
And she is happy with this madness!
Thomas clark Feb 2016
I read your comments
I do agree
That you are you
And I am me

I don't tell fibs
My poems are true
I fell off a roof before
Have you ever fell too

Roofing is a dangerous job
As are some other jobs too
And I,d just got two words 4 the spellcheck
Thank you

I,m not as bright as others
As you already know by a mile
So I really got to ask you
What is a pluviophile??
Sonia Ettyang Dec 2018
Cloudy skies
Heavy downpour
Cold breeze
Swaying trees
Misty window panes
Traffic lights
Hooting cars
Gushing gutters
Drenched trench coats
Soggy feet
Colourful umbrellas
Crowded shelters
Empty side walks

The city skips a few hearbeats
And comes to a stand still
Soon as the pounding rain stops
Everything returns to normalcy

But rainy days call for
Steaming cups
Slouchy sweaters
Fluffy blankets
Snuggles
Cuddles
Novels
Notebooks
Gramophone tunes in the background
Enjoying a little piece of heaven
While the day is washed off
Setting stage for a clean fresh start
©Sonia Ettyang
Lover of rain
Ria Aug 2014
there are 10 things you may need to know about me
if you'd like to get to know me better
if you care about me

1. i love thunderstorms
i love the way lightning looks against the sea at night
i enjoy the presence of crazy rain and
the arguments the clouds seem to have
i am a pluviophile

2. i hate small talk
i do not care for my feelings on this particular time of day which is why if you ask me how i am or "how i'm feeling" i will provide a bland answer
this is such a boring step for you to get to know me better
you probably don't even care how my summer went
tell me your fantasies, childhood fears,
tell me things you wouldn't tell your best friend
ask me questions about my former lover

i am curious to know

3. i am quiet a lot
i ponder about life and odd little ideas pop into my head randomly
like: i wonder if you can naturally change your eye colour or
why is it quiet only at night?
i think about people i haven't met or people in my past
those whom i care about and those whom i hate

4. people with sad eyes are attractive
i do not know why
the roundness and dull sparkle in their eyes arouse me
it creates me to gravitate around them
i do not pity them but i am somehow attracted to them

5. the internet is amazing
i have gained so many friends from here
different photos and art has inspired me
i lost fears through the internet
it's fascinating really

6. i have a fine appreciation for art
there are so many different forms of art and i love all of them
whether it's poetry or dance or drama
i have experimented and flirted with them all
they are unique and brilliant in their own way

7. i do not love myself
no matter how hard i bring myself to it
there are so many flaws and dents in my skin
that i cannot do it
i am shameful of myself
afraid of myself
and most of all
i am saddened by my own soul

8. i long for a soulmate
one to appreciate good food with
one to travel with
whether i am in love with this person or one whom i am
very fond of
i long for someone to be there for me at all times

9. i cry easily
i am sensitive and this is hard to admit
i am overemotional at times and the tears fall easily
most of the time it is because i can relate to the certain emotion
that is being depicted

10. i am filled with stories
i could go on and on about different rumors and secrets i have stored inside
i am in abundance with stories and good laughs
i have fascinating scary stories both fiction and non-fiction
many stories are mine and there are a lot that aren't
but both are entertaining and i enjoy telling stories
about me i suppose
i'm sure there's more

— The End —