stormless nightscape
neon lightning
car-thunder and auto-hum
the dark doldrums
sky scrapes
violence even in brightest daytime
the city is
its own weather system
tempestuous / slum
lashing / victims
of architecture: humans undone
slithering, slithering
we,    slugs of no sun

There is a house in Newport Green
They call it the sturdy one
It withstood all kinds of stormy weather
Ever since time had begun

If you're wondering why it's still there
Even though it moans and groans
Never mind smart wood construction
It lasted thanks to good bones

may we have some nicer weather please?
At least some sunnier days than these!
It's been so cold and unbelievably wet,
it's horrid enough to get upset.
It's a bit like April but in reverse,
instead of better it's getting worse.
Can't make any plans to go outside
for a short walk or bicycle ride.
Whenever I get ready to leave the house,
heaven looks like I'm in for a douse.
Sometimes I go out in spite
and realize I'm not watertight.
Then I get drenched to the bone,
it even destroys my mobile phone.
Worse yet after it's been warm,
the sky rips open a nasty thunderstorm.
That's the part when danger lurks
with thunder lightning and the works.
Because holding up an umbrella
can sometimes torch a poor fella.
But wait, before I get into hail,
earthly tempests like heavy gale,
tornados, hurricanes and the likes.
It's definitely not worth it, yikes!
Instead of giving myself a permanent frown,
I put the kettle on and try piping down.

I'd appear on your house
  drenched in what the weather pours
  knocking on a door that I'm not sure that I'll feel the embrace of welcome
alas, for my presence is far greater
     than the weather man's forecast.

Then they'll see me
    holding my heart on my hands
hoping it'll spare me from their wrath
as I present on what's left of me
  and ask for the hand
of the other half of me.

combed cotton clouds
a light wind tackles
withering humidity

it may be late,
but the sun came up enough today
for it to go down.

that’s enough for me.

Heaven got so plenty moods
At dawn she's like a sleepy maid
Just awoke, and rescheduled, still,
As she rise from her midnight bed
Dusk is her blushing face
As she sees all the love
Midday she shines bright
As she dances over the sky above
Full moon she sits up there
Her fair skin shining silver light
As she tries to fall asleep
In her gown of deep blue night
Rain can be thrice
In sadness, she sometimes weeps
In joy, she squirts water, playful laughing
Or she brings the water's salvation she keeps
When angry, her wrath masses in clouds
And cataclysms, that storm the land
Fog is a try to cover the world's darkness
As she cups it with a caring hand
Blood moon shows her scars and wounds
That had cut her deeper than any blade
Blizzards rage in her despair
When she cries out with words unsaid
In eclipse, she tries to hide her face
Shame letting her cheeks glow
For even she is not all perfect
Not always she can cover in innocent, white snow
Every girl has, sometimes,her terrible twos
And few enough are of such purity
Heaven is not perfect
But she's made of simple beauty

I follow your dark cloud
Never bringing an umbrella
Saturated in all of your sadness
Shaken by your thunder bursts
Shocked when you get electric
And pushed aside in your gusts
I'm sure to most it may seem odd
Just extremely harsh and exhausting
But to all those who find me mad
You've never seen his light shine
Gently spread over a meadow
Or heard his booming laughter
Or basked in the warmth of his smile
Or have had his fingers in your hair
So I follow his dark cloud
And walk through all his storms
So that I may lie down in the grass
And drink in all of his warmth