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Nigdaw Jan 2022
a pause
designed to create an awkwardness
a storm
brews from a cloudless sky to touch terra firma
a rage
all consuming emotion projected outwards
the eye
a calm central refuge surrounded by weather and hate
time
to prepare for the inevitable stand ground or escape
all that anger out there in the world
waiting to express itself
perhaps the clouds above us catch our wrath
projecting it back with the power of our hatred
Darel Rex Finley Dec 2021
Tornado sirens’ firin’
Gives your runnin’ shoes the news
That stay’n inside is such a slide
To be fit you pay your dues

Feel the ground a-poundin’
’Neath those skies of green so mean
Inclement weather lives forever
But you will quit, like a machine

Slanted rain’s a pain
Soaks you to your skin so thin
In this world, so brave unfurled
Only bright for those who win

You get no bornin’ warnin’
Of the times to come so glum
’Tis a mission for magician
Strike with lightning, then succumb
Nigdaw Dec 2021
primal cave
warm
coals glow
in an iron grate
dream lives flicker
in dancing flames
hatches battened
around the ramparts
of terraced council home
droplets run
on window panes
coursing rivers
to the sea
we are alone
suspended natural animation
with only ourselves
to blame
neth jones Nov 2021
vented clouds
form a mackerel skin sky
implanted chill
fills out
from a marrow ache
to the human exterior

i walk under the sky
porous to it all
connected by the cold
Autumn
Anais Vionet Nov 2021
Lisa, Leong and I were supposed to eat at a sushi place called “Bow Wow.” Lisa and I were coming back from our last class. I covered my face with the back of my hand and yawned as we reached the quad. Lisa put her phone in her jacket pocket and said, “She isn’t answering, I’ll go get her.” I nodded and gave her my backpack (we’re all suitemates).

I sat down, cross legged, under a (Japanese maple?) tree, arranging my skirt - the tree had shed most of its leaves, since I’d met it in September. A drift of papery bronze leaves spread out in all directions.

A breeze delicately swayed the tree branches, making flickering patterns of light in the shade. I went from sitting to lying down in the grass, angling for the most of the limited shade. The sky was subtly beginning to darken, as if an Instagram filter on the scene was being tweaked.

How many seasons has this tree observed, I wondered, with all the embellishments those brought - sun, rain, stars, rainbows and flickering, ever changing moons. ​​All from within the limited, open sky frame of the quad. A tree has to be patient - and tough - I thought, there’s no rescue from the New England elements.

The whistling breeze seemed like music and the tree began to dance for me - its branches became waving arms, its leaves making jazz hands - I laughed and clapped. It made a twisting bow at the waist, like a performer.

I woke up when I heard Lisa say, “‘Here she is!” - as if I’d been lost.
I love the New Haven / New England weather - and I need more sleep =]
neth jones Nov 2021
overcast

i pull on the day brightly
mine it at the maternal sources
        and form a radiant :                    
               a bloom from within fledgling elements

illuminant grenades                          
             and the sky is peppered with characters
it's a wild play of childness              
an old world whimsy        
of 'here be monsters'    
            and shiny scrapbook havoc

the compass steps in              
       and with the turn of the globe
                          scores the horizon
clouds and the aviators          
         are combed into the soft crust
     a spiral quilting                          
       to cover the gift of a dream
      given by one thirsty visitor
   who stole it lightly
     from the prism
   of another travelling dreamer

God knows what'll grow
        if there's a pillow fight
a deranged rain of innovation
perhaps some fiddly creation
will fast take over this world
         and it's lover other

with the sky allied and fraudulent
we can host an early night
the stars (in strand)
prattle the ocular sense frontier
all constellations are like a single ribbon eel
never quite nourishing
             upon its own thoughtless loop

a corduroy display
overcoat
When the leaves have all run red as blood
And trees stand empty-handed
Diamond snow will blanket all
A land, by winter, branded

©KNL
Tony Tweedy Nov 2021
A thousands spires that whirl and dervish,
high upon the scorching currents in the air.
Across the empty desiccated wastelands,
so long parched without waters soft repair.

Like gyrating embodied souls rotating,
to lay scar deeply carved upon the land,
driving clouds of rock like pelting hail,
headlong until all is shattered into sand.

Flashes of lightening and thunders call,
clouds cast in iron, observers of the scene,
testament in muted light from up on high,
sole recall of still waters that once had been.

Desolate open and forsaken landscape,
where only wind gives motion to the world.
Leaden clouds of rain without a falling,
static charged clouds constantly re-curled.

How long ago it was that life had left,
its own scars and marks upon the soil.
until through life's' own achievements,
a once beautiful world was left to broil.

In that not so distant time when remnants
of the miracle that was life is erased and gone.
not one thing that we have ever seen or know,
nor memory of who we once were shall live on.
You dont really have to believe the science...
Its real.... its time to do something.
Choose not to if you like... you cant escape by hiding from this... nor can your kids or grandkids.
Wilkes Arnold Oct 2021
As a child I was told to take shelter in a storm.
"Wait for danger to pass, where it's safe and it's warm."
Was the plea sent down wet steps and the outmatched door
To chase my staccato strides.
I'd lose it, if I could help it,
In puddle waves and wind-whipped tides
Over rocky shores and steep divides
Then stroll down the lane with thunderstorms n' hurricanes.
While the sky cracked with tension and the red oaks strained,
I never felt small nor ever afraid,
Of the forceful rumbles their limbs obeyed,
I felt alive n' emboldened by every squall
Raised higher and higher by the climatic cure-all
Until I could meet it face to face n' eye to eye
And hold its gaze, as though it were mine,
Until the blackened-beaten town and the next day's fight
Seemed bold but inviting, a blinding light.
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