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rk Jun 2019
we crashed into each other
like a perfect storm
but they say lightning
never strikes twice,
maybe that's why
i find it impossible to let you go.
- you lit up my sky and now all i see is you.
Devin Ortiz Jun 2019
That was no ordinary lightning,
I knew that much for sure.
The walls shook with violent vibrations,
Echoes of the beastly ritual below.

Through flashes and thunder,
Archaic broods of badlanders rose.
Each strike tore open the seems of
Conceivable imagination.

This is not the first time.
This storm is without end.
Some will know it for the darkening it is.
Others will hold it secretly within nightmares.
Bhill Jun 2019
When boy meets girl he wants to whirl
When girl meets boy it could be a joy
When day meets night look out for some fright
When night meets day it’s time to go play
When up meets down it could turn things around
When down meets up could it be abrupt
When a horse meets a cow all I got is wow
When a cow meets a horse is sweet of course
When good meets bad will we be sort of mad
When bad meets good will it be understood
When thunder meets lightning it’s loud and it’s frighting
When lightning meets thunder it’s really a wonder
When dirt meets water you got yourself mud
When water meets dirt it could clean off the crud

Meetings like these happen every single day
Be ready or not as they are always underway....!

Brian Hill - 2019#143
Meeting of all sorts make up your day.
Pay attention and play with them today
Andrew Jun 2019
Give me the thick, dark clouds
that blanket the sky in grey.
Give me the fat, cold globules
of H2O,
falling from the firmament.
I would gladly gaze up,
and allow them to land
upon my head and my neck
and my shoulders,
sending a flutter down my spine—
straight through
to my fingertips.

Give me the cracklings of
those super-charged particles,
displacing the air
clearing the horizon
as it illuminates
just like Independence Day.
Give me the hot, sticky,
sweat-filled calm,
and let the tides roll in
to wash it away
on the back of the
thunderstorm.

A. I. Myles   o9 June, 2019
Raindrops will drop.
JT Nelson Jun 2019
Flashes
Rolls
Wind
Then rain

Sometimes a pain
Like the day of weddings
Picnics
Or funerals

Sometimes a joy
Like the farmer whose crops
Are withering
And soil cracks hard in sun
Writing during a rainstorm is a true joy... but my words can’t hold a flame to the true emotion that Mother Nature pours out during a good thunderstorm. All we can do is reach out and try to grab a few good words. Maybe after a thousand poems, I will finally capture my true emotions that I’m feeling right now.
Will Jun 2019
Like a cosmic whip, lightning crackles across the night sky.
It’s electricity illuminating the dire landscape that passes by outside.
Glancing out the window, eyes squinting at the glorious storm growing near.
Pressing the gas pedal down, heart racing as the vehicle jolts forward.
Like a comet flying through space, the car ripped through the torrential downpour.
Speeding through the dark void, raindrops colide with the window, like projectiles from above.
Though the inside of their vehicle was dry, the driver's eyes were flooded with tears.
Wiping them away with a brush of their hand, car speeding forward.
Resolved to follow the lightning, but not to see it’s glow once more.
It was to chase the thunder, that deep booming foe who always felt so near.
That is who we all chase, the invisible enemy who instills immense fear.
A B Faniki Jun 2019
Dark clouds at night a
flash of lightning appears and
reveals heaven's stair
At night when it was about to rain and lightning light up the sky one can see pictures in the storm .
The clouds are darkening
Withdrawing the sun; concealing

The lighting is striking.
Glowing, electrifying.
The thunder is clapping.
Scary, deafening.

The air is dampening.
Cooling, moistening

The wind is howling.
The dust is rising.
The fires are dying.
The trees are shaking.

Roofs, flying.
Doors, slamming.
Windows, shutting.

The storm is brewing.
The people are running;
Hiding, retreating.
For the rain, is coming.
sol May 2019
Lightning never strikes the same place twice,
but the phantom pain remains as the Earth
grows into new skin, again and again.
As I attempt to accept this heart & soul
on my own, willow wisp wishes to keep me
company. My clothes cling to my limbs, I am
soaked to the bone in my own ocean.
Barely grown oak trees caress my aching
body, to bring me back home. The scent
of petrichor floods my senses, and I know.
I am clean again.
erin May 2019
you ask me what makes my girl so special.
don't you know
that she is the eye of the storm?
a love poem about my girlfriend.
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