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TD Jan 17
darting sleet that whispers a glancing chill

intrepid rivers that blaze bold such trails

soaring geysers that seek their voluminous sky

delicate trickles of a brook
that slink nearby..

are nothing to compare

when—a grieving woman
lets escape but one single tear..

the tempest rages on inside
Michael Luciano Nov 2020
The dark clouds moved menacingly in from the horizon.
She could feel her eagerness building strength.
That's when the Thunder clapped and the rain began to fall.
Her body slowly started swaying with the rumbling call.
A smile formed upon her lips, energy built with every drip.
She gains her power from the storm, the blowing tempest makes her golden warm.
The flooding destruction moves her hips, she dances now in the howling winds.
She only smiles when it pours, she feels her strength in the burning storm.
Her body dancing in the rain, the way she moves is so wicked and strange. Lightning crashing through her weathered veins, It fills her body full of love.
Feel the destruction from above, the howling Tempest is her only friend. Dawn is breaking now bringing in the end, her body Withers with the calm.
The life she lives within the storm has now receded into the mud.
Where she will wait again for the floods
Michael Luciano Nov 2020
I knew a girl who loves the rain.
She only smiles as it pours.
When the drops start to fall.
She prays and prays for more.
She feels her strength in the dark. Laughing with the Thunder.
Tears are rain brought by pain.
Maybe that's her comfort.
Rain drops upon her face
While she dances through the Tempest.
She smiles wide her beautiful eyes hungry for a drenching.
Jay M Apr 2019
Silently, I scream.
Hopelessly, I reach out to an unknown figure.
The storm is rising within,
Raging like a tempest,
Unable to settle,
Maybe for a moment,
But all gone in an instant,
Swept up in the madness.

Waves crashing against the shore,
Out among them,
I drown in an ocean
Of emotion,
Yet everyone around me is breathing.

Crippled by woe,
Beaten by the most powerful foe,
So tired of feeling so weak,
Helplessly tossed in the winds,
Bashed against the rocks.

The only anesthetics,
Are the things that bring me physical pain,
Yet it feels so good,
Just to feel something,
And know where it's coming from.

Tears that still drip,
Never stopping,
Never seen,
Told they don't exist,
Yet here they are...

Another head hangs low,
Beside me in the madness,
But you see,
This is no fantasy;
They too are crying,
They too are tired,
They, too, have struggled to find a way out.

When the violence causes silence,
When the silence causes insanity,
What could thrive there?
In this empty crypt?

It's the same old thing,
Since the dawn of time,
Since the birth of our world,
So beautiful,
Yet so killer...

- Jay M
April 3rd, 2019
blazing soul Aug 2020
Much love to my fellow poetz, I haven't been here for a while.. It's hard to understand by many but few will understand.. It's an environmental thing, it's hard to write when the heart is diverted,  when the eyes distracted, when all the senses capitulate with the dominant sense of survival...
Dead men don't scribe.
Michael Luciano Apr 2020
The dank dark clouds moved in menacingly from the horizon.
From which she could feel her eagerness building strength.
The lighting then crashed as the rain began to fall.
While her hips began to sway with the rumbling call.
A smile curled and kissed her lips, while energy built with every drip.
She extracted her power with force from the storm, the tempest boiled making her golden warm.
The flood of destruction she's contorted in dance as her figure it floats entombed in a trance
Only she smiles with the sky when it pours. Overflowing with current from the burning storm.
Her beautiful body it swings in the rain movements are wicked the sight always strange.
Explosions crashing lightning storm veins, filling her existence completely with love.
Entombed in destruction, eminating from above, the howling tempest her only friend.
The storm clouds breaking bringing in the end, her body slowly whithers landing in a calm.
The life she loves to live married to the storm has now receded in the mud.
Remaining lost in time eagerly waiting for the flood.
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Ibykos Fragment 286, circa 564 BCE
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.

Unfortunately
for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening—
black,
bleak,
astonishing,
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.

Keywords/Tags: Ibykos, fragment, translation, Eros, Aphrodite, Thracian, tempest, lightning, jolt, soul, spring, apple, trees, river, flowers, grape, vine, shadows
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Ibykos Fragment 286, circa 564 BCE
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come spring, the grand
apple trees stand
watered by a gushing river
where the maidens’ uncut flowers shiver
and the blossoming grape vine swells
in the gathering shadows.

Unfortunately
for me
Eros never rests
but like a Thracian tempest
ablaze with lightning
emanates from Aphrodite;
the results are frightening—
black,
bleak,
astonishing,
violently jolting me from my soles
to my soul.

Keywords/Tags: Ibykos, fragment, translation, Eros, Aphrodite, Thracian, tempest, lightning, jolt, soul, spring, apple, trees, river, flowers, grape, vine, shadows
Adrian Jan 2020
Moonlight drizzles upon my lawn,
Tinting the grass with its
quicksilver luminescence.

The scattered clouds,
Drifting rapidly overhead in the
Almost nonexistent wind
Beckon in a tempest,
Shearing away the calm tension
That once roamed my yard.
Looking at the sky and yard from my deck looked pretty cool.
nick armbrister Mar 2019
Angel Juice
They fueled my warplane with 130 grade octane
It was bright green and full of spells
It was witchcraft just like flight
Making my plane soar like a rocket
So I could shoot down **** jets
Defeat their Me-309 escort fighters
Beating them by pure ******* speed
Then nail the ***** jet with my cannon
Blowing his ******* head off with 20mm
Me the aerial knight in his chariot
An airborne God in a Hawker Tempest
The best fighter plane of the war
Superior to all that was German
Be it Focke Wulf 190 D versions
Or their upgraded Me-109 K series
Or the 309s and anything else
I was equal to their vaunted jets
Like the He-162 Salamander
Or fast Me-262 which was ace
I was God...
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