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Ruheen Feb 20
The rain is here, it's wet, please don't leave me.
It makes the world look dull, it light's up ours.
Thunder rumbles, it's cold, I need to breathe.
Sleepy, but free, I can stay up for hours.
It's too quiet, I want something better.
It rains all night, please let the clouds hang low,
Please let the trees dance, they will send letters.
Rain makes art, so does the sky, a faint glow.
It's real, but it looks fake, but I see the truth.
The sky is crying, the doors are creaking,
What about the pitter-patter on the roof?
We smile as it falls, the roof is leaking,
Now, but I don't care, I will fall asleep
To the sound and I will have soundless dreams
Wrote this a long time ago.
Brazen stirred emotions from the mountain top
Released undeterred to flow downhill
From the meadows through thick forest to solid oak
Followed raw heated rage to a path of implicit destruction
Pleasant land starts to rumble
Quiver and stumble
A river once dry comes alive.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Ylzm Apr 2019
ordinary morning, late, bright and clear
weekend, no hurries, lets stay on in bed

in a flash, thunderous roar from above
mountainuous rock crashing, my mind saw

the skies echoed, rumbling in agony
rumbled and rumbled, on and on and on

strange sinister sound, trapped constant droning
UFO? baby superman landed?

rushed outside: no crash, just clouds in clear sky
rumble, rumble, rumble, man-made or what?

thundering, faint and far, near and muffled
none thunderous as the first rock that fell

then it rained: heavy; a soothing warm rush
droning masked, but strangeness etched, and lingered.
Salmabanu Hatim Nov 2018
Hey **!
Oh my ghosh! What a day this is.
Lightning  streaks across the sky,
The clouds clap and roar,
Little lakes bubble with joy,
The rivers rumble gaily down the mountains.
Not to mention,
The trees stand with limbs akimbo,
Drenching from leaves to roots
in the lovely rain,
The birds cuddle in their nests,
All sing tra la la la.........................
For its raining, raining,raining.
K Balachandran Jul 2018
thunder rumbles loud,
rainstorm looms, waits to hit hard;
beware! rough weather!
Miss Clofullia Apr 2017
I just felt like writing
and the world suddenly had
no boundaries for me
and no one was looking
and the beach was the only one
that could support my feet;
and all those beautiful women
were starring in the big fat blue,
not saying a thing,
not knowing what to do,
not wanting to cry, nor to laugh..

but I guess this is what good music
does to you -
it sends signals down your spine
and, in a second,
you forget where you are
and what you're trying to accomplish -
you get to the point where you think
you are a mother ******* rock star!
You have no worries
and you know that you can play the hell out of a guitar,
on the day before the big show!
But.. when the crowd goes wild
and all of those eyes are having an ear on you,
your cave -
you become one with the guitar case -
full of sounds and, yet, so silent,
dark like an empty egg shell,
cursed to know what life is
but unable to show it to others.

There is
no wine,
no wining,
no glass eye,
no groupies,
no ice in your bucket list!

You are all alone and suddenly the world feels part of you.

There was a time when
I felt bad for people that didn't need that from me -
simple, single, solitary people, that couldn't feel a thing
and that couldn't care less if some arrogant *****,
some.. some cocky presumptuous stranger
was thinking unhappy thoughts about them.

I just wanted to write
but all I did was get farther
away from what I needed.

Now it's time to save the word world!
Yes!
It's time to synchronize our watches
and go naked out there,
with our ***** and ******* free,
uncovered by our own self consciousness
and big little lies!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNapQD7tcXo
Andrew Name Aug 2016
tell me something
at the end of the summer
how we've spent days
for the warm shadow of jasmine

I'm dumb in common
separated from home
one of the worst romans
in the way of his own

deceit and demise
narcissism and mice
went rumble and bumble
went crimble and crumble
Luna Craft Apr 2016
I read philosophy, not for fun, for meaning
I allow it to wrap my brain, tie it in little bows
Let Marx spell out socialism, let words lead to communism
We all live in caves, ignorant to the masses, see shadows and shout Plato
Nietzsche yells 'God is dead' in pain and alone
Religious intent allows us to believe, lies or not
Let men of a hundred years question my fate
Intimidate my senses, let me question everything
Even simple, we learned when, why and how as children
But we did not experience true questioning
Whether we truly chose to believe or not, I still don't know
Question my faith, my thoughts, my feelings
Let my words shatter out
Fall apart
Scarlet Keiller Mar 2016
The rumbling of the coming earthquake
echoes beneath my surface,
threatening the very idea of normality.
~~ Writing poetry for you could never be more incredible, even if I may collapse with every word I write. ~~
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