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Jesse stillwater Jul 2018
there are the ones
that feel it climb up
the shadow towards the light,
hesitation on every rung,
each wave of the arising
      overwhelms  unabated ―
and woe betides those
who are on the run
from a storm's deluge


A rousing ocean breeze
stirs inside the memory
of an unframed seashell
lying on the hearth mantel;
heightened sensitivity
lapping soundlessly,
spindrift plashing
the shoreline
of another world's
feigned peace


Perhaps the muted voice
of guilty pleasures,
hushed by their own
hidden truths
Feeling the unfelt textures
of every stifled vibration
left unbreathed


The naked truth befallen
so cold and lonely
Running in circles,
volatile as all those
     unspoken excitations raging ―
and the whispers of those
who hear not
the voices in the wind


An emotionally enslaved  heart
tarries,  marooned high and dry
in a memory on a distant sand bar
     lain fallow for so long ―
stagnant darkness
of an unsated soul
gathered on the back
of a parched tongue
sullied wordless


Rising up through
a dusty hieroglyph corridor
through an unlocked
labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes
from somewhere left behind
in an incomprehensible
abandoned wake


It's getting harder and harder
   for an insatiable soul to breathe ...
   climbing up a tree trunk―
up within the silence
of the listening tree


  Toes dug into
the rough bark furrows ―
fingers reaching upwards
beyond their deepest known grasp


A shadow stranded
out on a hangin' bough
hearkening without ears that hear:
“perhaps they’ll listen now“  
the wingless bird sings
in psalms that fly away
on tattered feathers
over untamed waters roil


Back to nature’s waning youth,
the bough bends unbroken
to taste the freedom
of the wild absolving seas



Jesse Stillwater
June     2018
Notes:                                                                                                          
a friend sent  a link to a deeply thought provoking modern classic 70's song about Vincent Van Gogh and the complexities of imperfection some of us relate .... i'd listened to the words prior but never heard before now.

  Title is last final lyric line from:  "Vincent" (Starry, Starry night) 1971
Writer(s): DON MCLEAN, ENRICO NASCIMBENI,
ROBERTO VECCHIONI
A Henslo Sep 2017
What antiquated tongue as such
Hissed Eden's serpent to get in touch?
Angelic would probably not be true
Possibly Arabic or perhaps Hebrew
But almost certainly it wasn't Dutch

What dikes would Noah's land comprise
If these polder pros had been about
And the deluge struck fields fitted out
With some deft water controlling device?
Would we have preserved our paradise?
First illustrated publication Dec. 6, 2016 www.facebook.com/a.henslo.poetry/posts/1797306240533810
Today
Its bright and sunny

Not same
The last 3 days .
A relative , passing away
Never whom I met
A pall of gloom, yet .

Today
Husband would be back from tour

A day before
Stuck  he was in the heavy downpour
And flooded Mumbai roads .
My heart sank,
Reminded of the deluge
Year 2005, July 26th
And
Stuck he was in a similar situation
Residents of Mumbai, then we were.

A Day before
He had a long day ahead
Asked  the driver to leave
Only to return by evening .

The driver with no return route
And
The hotel a few Kms away
Not a single Ola Uber
Around the corner
Added  to the bother.

A good 40 minutes walk
In waist high water
Followed by a bus ride
Hotel ,he managed to reach .
And hopefully ,
The Mumbaikars to their homes
Who waded along
Helping each other in the murky waters.

Yes 'The SPIRIT Of MUMBAI'
Not to be missed
Come Rains or Terrorists
Mumbaikars with help , do outreach.
Had been feeling low in the last few days partly due to the weather and happenings,
and did not write much.
Things are fine today and so a quick write , inspired again by my favourite
Place , and so the title , ' The Spirit Of Mumbai'.
In spite of adversities the people there are never let down.
KRRW Aug 2017
Smoke
gets trapped
under the leaves
of trees
after the rain.
It gave me
the impression
that the shadows
of those leaves
are glowing.
Up the sky,
I can see
the sun,
but it doesn't
hurt
my eyes.
The chilling wind
carried the scent
of the muddy soil
beneath my feet.
It reminded me
of all the devastation
brought upon
by the storm.
Last night
it rained.
Written
05 August 2015


Copyright
© Khayri R.R. Woulfe. All rights reserved.
Nikita May 2016
One sombre evening,
as he sat by the window
past tried to trick him
into its song of nostalgia
one he always resisted
and kept at bay.

But, for once he let it,
gnaw away his soul, and
***** the deepest of his bones.
His guards in disguise
his promises, responsibilities,
ambitions and ideals
started to sway and bow,
to the winds of guilt.

A strong deluge of emotions
started to sink him in
he too, let himself drown
and dissolve away in haze.

Next up, he found himself
atop a ship of submission,
She was already there,
smiling as she looked away.

In distance,
the golden sun of hope,
Faded away at the horizon.
Stanley Wilkin Dec 2015
The bridge collapsed after the storm
tumbling into the raging river-
I watched in tears, adding to the deluge.
Elle Sang Nov 2015
I was wondering,
What if things were different?
This soul of mine is not mine
And this mind I have is not for share
Would you still recognize me then?

If I am just a pretty face to you,
I see no point to offer you my bare soul
And my raw mind.
I shall not tell you how to think
Nor to act

However if you see I am more than a face,
You have my soul
My mind
And my blood
Singing and rising within your command
Cori MacNaughton Oct 2015
A week of unremitting rain
suddenly forgiven
in morning sunshine
My thoughts and heart goes out to all affected by the flooding from Hurricane Joachim.  We've been getting the outer rain bands for days now, but this morning - finally - the sun broke through.  Rebuilding begins.
You thought it was enough
but I saw through all the hullabaloo and fluff
You can't fool me the same way you did to them
I saw every loose hem
I've been observing brightly colored canvas
and I've smelled different kinds of grass
You could say that I already knew you before you do
I could feel the same as you

Maybe this is the special connection between two people hidden in the word "promise"
but I doubt you'd feel mine once it comes because you've never observed me the same way I have...
Things you realize when it comes to friendship...
Reckless cloudbursts
rippling reverberations-
Her harmonic ensemble
hits a deafening crescendo:
taunts my senses, paralysed;
haunts my spirit, petrified.
Destructive forces of tides and winds orchestrated by nature's fury.
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