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Hurricane, hurricane, hurricane,
Inside it, houses flying with gardens,
Different elements and temperaments.
Cows, cars, and pennies are flying,
Green, gray and grim trees are flying;
Sights pop up and fly away.
Inside it, there's me,
Sometimes in houses,
But mainly flying.
It's a hurricane,
We bond fantastically :
You feed me mice and rice
You feed me bones and roses
And hi speed wi-fi
I'm your favorite pet
I'm your toy
I'm your cat I'm your pup
I'm your horse I'm your bunny
You call me your Big Furry Hurricane, Your Savage Cupid, your Golden Doodle
You're raising me
giving nice baths and haircut
To your beloved American Field lab
You teach me manners
In a natural way
Loving and sincere
I'm well behaved, anf well trained
I'm your emotional crutch
I'm your cane
You smell the sugarcane within my collar
And dive into my waterfalls
And hike my mountains
You're the camp tent
That keeps raindrops and winds far
And you cook incredible meals
Made of laughter and joy.
So I simmer far from the usual cages
And leashes and leads
I simmer between your eyelashes
And I dissolve myself under your island
Warm and sweet like instant coffee
Making you shiver with thunderous bliss.
Gem Palomar Sep 5
You can make the sun burn bright and bold,
leaving my skin thirsty for your touch.

You can make the hurricanes and storms bow down at your feet.

And I, a disaster you have created,
you continuously create havoc within me.

Go on.
I wouldn't stop you.
For I would never not want to break and fall apart, over and over again for you.
Erian Sep 6
Your poison seeps into my veins
Crashing in like hurricanes

Every bone numbs and shakes
By the sound of your name

When you see my face in scattered rains
You end those hurricanes
Kamau Brathwaite wrote
That "the hurricane doesn't roar in pentameters"
And I really believed it could be true
That Caribbean hurricanes had their own cadences, their own dances :
Ida was reggae, Allen was merengue Brigitte was gwoka
David was cha cha cha and Edith was kadans rampa and Dorian calypso
All dactyls hatched instead of iambic pentameters
Out of each island Zeus 's head
Until i met the still eye of Hurricane Muse.

Muse was her nickname
Her real name was Shar
Named after shark and share and shear
and sharon,
Named after a calypso rose
Fearless except for lizards, a rose of  tiny thorns
With a taste of a stormy black coffee
Born to a dragon of Jade and a   white *** tigress
In the midst of the 1961
hurricane season.
Shar has the S of Sébastien Sally Sam Shary Sean and Sara
The H of Humberto Hanna Henri Hermine Harold and Hélène
The A of Andrea Arthur Ana Alex Arlene and Alberto
And the R of  Rebecca René Rose Richard Rina and Rafael
And she dances not only calypso
And quadrille and zouk
But a mix as well of Salsa Hustle Affranchi and Reggae
In iambic pentameters
While she gently paints fearless green lizards
Having her five iambs of coffee
First thing in the unstressed and stressed morning
Before she even opens the syllables of her still Muse eye.
I don't wanna wild
And I don't free
I don't wanna be swept away
By the wind you see
Take me out of the hurricane
Cause it's lingering
I don't wanna be lost in the moment

I just wanna be his
Lyrics to my new song, I hope one day actual people will get to hear it (Fingers crossed)
Scarlett Aug 31
it started off gentle
a small shower of raindrops
but then it became a devastating storm
i thought that was the worst of it
but you made it a hurricane
I haven't been on here i ages so I'm just publishing some of my old drafts. i don't necessarily like these but i don't want them to go to waste.
thesa Aug 19
that night i held you
and your body felt so calm against mine
that i wondered

how you could sleep so tight
when there was a hurricane
rising right beside you
The Hurricane clouds at home are emerging.
She saw their cry after June.
She knew which piece of symphony made her stomach churn.
Isn’t it like a diamond showers pushed through her brain
Isn’t it like a thunder of choral ends, rushing out like a hurricane roar?
Isn’t it  like a memorial bonfire blowing past her rear garden door?
Isn’t it like the home cloud force of an invisible hand,
smashing down on her floor?
Invisible,but’ a hurricane it is.
She had an urge to rush to her home.
Hurricane knows we are all under the same home cloud.
Sometimes, Hurricane seem full of menace.
And other times,
she maybe just need to be loved and at home.
Do we all need to be loved and at home?
If home is anarchy.
If home is happiness
And if home is war.
Then what and where is home?
By Angel. XJ. ;19/08/2019
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