Insects sing their lullaby,
drawing you into night's cry;
It seems harmless from afar,
But in the thick, no skin's w'out mark.

I'm so sorry,
I know times are crazy,
I miss you lately,
Because you were like safety,
From the storms that rage vainly,
And we were perfect daily,
I'm sorry I left you -.

While passing by a great Gothic church,
I see sullen skies begin to glower:
a looming wicked curse
above the church corona’s tower.

With bruised blue clouds brewing black
in the bellowing wide heavens,
hearts pounding, all shrink slowly back:
Blazing bolts scream and threaten.

Here comes the gale force shrieking wraith!
Take shelter from the storm
in the stout fortresses of your faiths
built with those who keep you warm.

For though some tempests last
over rocky spans of fears,
all the maelstrom’s wrath must pass,
even if it lasts for years.

In these sturdy stones you’ve laid,
rebuild for the coming of new days.

I realized, it's not the universe
Or the microscopic world
That a Human should look into,
We shall seek our soul
Hidden to the void we own;
Navigating through experiences
That are like storms in the sea
And, probably, we would realize
That maybe the greatest treasure of all
Is us, ourselves.

The earth so thirsty,
Like the burning in your throat.
Dead leaves no longer crunch,
But slide from underfoot.

Dust has turned to powder
Radiating from the scorched earth.
Trees standing motionless,
Branches extended in plea.

A whirl-wind whorls in the distance,
Devouring all in it's path,
With not a question asked.
Devastation.

Roofs uplifted and fallen,
Cries of anguish at the sky.
Why?
Despair turning to anger.

A crack,
A rattle,
A rumble.
And the heavens answer in a loud mumble.

Hope?
Anticipation?
Possibility, or
Relief?

And then ...
Plop, plop - a raindrop
The sound so profound,
That all prospect is drowned.

The storm comes to a head,
Deafening anger pours from heaven.

This is what you want?
Take it - a demand, not a request.
Will you ever be satisfied?

The dehydrated ground,
Drinking it's fill.  Till it no longer can.
Each drop, a promise of life,
Where earth has narrowly avoided strife.

The darkness lifts,
The sky now a lighter hue,
Where the sun peeks through
Shining yet another never-ending promise.

Steam rising,
Yes - hope uplifting.
The lingering sweet smell of rain
Dampening your skin.

Satisfied?

Not a breath of air,
The world around me hangs motionless.
Waiting, waiting in anticipation.

Flora trying to remain worthy and proud,
Struggling and waiting in the still, heavy air.
Waiting in anticipation.

Fauna lying in the shadows,
Mustering the courage to look alive.
Waiting, waiting in anticipation.

Each day turns darker, the skies bulkier,
Waiting to burst, but impenetrable and dense.
They too ... waiting, waiting.

When?  Minutes pass bye,
Then hours and days.
When?  Waiting.

Each being holding on,
Holding their breath, striving for the feel of damp.
Ans still waiting.

Today?  No.  Tomorrow then?
No, how much longer can we hold on?
Today becomes tomorrow and tomorrow the day after.
Waiting, waiting in anticipation.

We are clouds
individual
and collective by nature
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds

We cannot live in
photos or paintings
inspiring but hanging
dormant like billboards
and traffic signs

Dark clouds awaken
when angry
fire and fury
torrents of rain
hail damaging

Then Zephyr comes
to appease their anger
    ~god’s of the sky~
peace treaties pending

She often drifts in like
an angel
ahead of a storm front
thunder and lightning
her silhouette
bringing in less
threatening clouds to
comfort us when storms
leave us angry cold and wet

At times even darker
clouds hang ominously
and high winds are surely threatening war
then out the blue
allies flank our enemy
blowing away
the fiery vaporous Thor

We float into wintertime
into its storyline
Drifting in and out of space
and time through seasons
of wind hail rain or shine
(essence of
our connected
and interconnected minds)

Billowing Cumulonimbus
Dark Nimbostratus
Thin Sirius basking in sunshine
Shapeless grey clouds of snow
Cold drizzle reigns

Funnel clouds
cyclone
monsoon
hurricane
typhoon
bursting through
atmospheric membranes

We can be moody
boasting large volumes
but revealing far-less mass

Passively aggressive
boasting less volume
but revealing a lot of mass

We are clouds
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds.

Lightning snaps and rain applauds
as thunder claps above horizons’ walls
Grumbling clouds march swiftly on
to booming sounds and cracks of dawn —
Here below, in the cockpit of storm,
the rain now sows blue jewels that form
on an old rose’s petals and thorny stalks
to test the mettle of the bugs that walk
up and down their rosebush world
that’s becrowned by blossoms, red unfurled:
One bug, aloof, sits calm and at peace
under his roof of a sturdy green leaf —
This one bug that I see amidst all the gloom
is who I wish to be, under red blooms

i laugh without listening
and cancel all my plans

in black and white
dressing every windshield in dew

i dream of you in bars
in bars
i wake up wallowing
hollow
in all our distances and headaches

every day a ****** hangover
my dry eyes are rooftiles
in wait
for the acid come pouring
out the cracked ceramic sky

umbrellaless

i cancel plans 'cause of my veins'
caramel sludge cravings ever
clear embers and
candy climbing tumbles

i crumple through the openings
of every suburban sliding glass door
to sear the acoustics of some stranger's
morning cigarettes

make clouds
and disappear vapor-burned valleys

i cancel plans 'cause the moon
has been full for three months
and the atmosphere's been seizing grandly
in time to my throat's theatrics

in time to the tics of my lighter's
flickers and clicking calls

that won't stop
'cause i don't leave my bed