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Steve Page Sep 2023
I don't do seasons.

What's the point?
Mother Nature pays no attention
anymore - no adherence
to long established norms.
Unreliable, like the rest.
Incomprehensible at best.

So why bother?
Why consider
this season's wardrobe?
Why plan life around the calendar,
when you need any-weather clothes?

So I don't do seasons.
I don't do disappointment.
I don't do expectations.
I just plan for the unplanned
and weather the summer storms.

I'm a man for no seasons.
Like many places around the world, the UK's weather has been unpredictable of late.
ShFR Sep 2023
A growl.. a stomach?
No, that was —
atmospheric
If not hunger I hope we are all parched
© 2023 by ShFR All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of ShFR
Kitt Sep 2023
I love the ambiance, the steady constant of raindrops crashing against the earth
I love how it washes away the pollen and dust
Cleansing the air so I can breathe
I love umbrellas and glossy rain boots in yellow or red
Fat raindrops speeding to bring hope and salvation to the deserted ground
Best of all I love to be completely surrounded by a storm:
Lighting so close it sends a  tingle along your skin and lights up the night like day,
Thunder so crashingly loud it resonates in your stomach and feet,
Stirring the primordial fear of unknown power,
of both darkness and of light
of the shadows and not of what casts them
but of certain illumination wrought with paradox,
The wind that blows up my dress and lifts the hair from my neck
filling my umbrella until I feel weightless
For one glorious moment, I almost believe I may float away with the storm

We cannot help but romanticize the phenomenal
Giving ever-changing names and faces to the forces of nature, believing l
or at least pretending
That they’re alive with us.
And maybe,
in a sense,
They are alive.
Not with us,
But within.
Gabrielle Sep 2023
There’s stormy seas ahead they say
The clouds grow like mould in the sky
Batten down the hatches, mayday!
The curtains start to fly

Close the windows against the applauding rains
Lock the door, get buckets ready
But the dread won’t reach my veins
I am strong, I am steady

I have a life raft, small and warm
One bed, one bath, one key
It keeps me safe from any storm
And even the entire sea
Gabrielle Sep 2023
The rain tickles the roof
Trickles in spittle down the gutter
Uneven beats on a hollow drum
The soundtrack to my slumber
neth jones Sep 2023
cold breeze
the ticking heat off a parked car
has summer resigned ?
summer 23
no.9
haiku style
27/08/23
Anais Vionet Aug 2023
From the fiery hills of Maui
to the dry Canadian brush
from the flat lands of the delta
down to Texas on the gulf.

The weather’s downright awful
you can hear the people say,
summers sometimes take bad turns,
but it’s never been this way.

From the tall pines of the Great North West
to the Louisiana shore,
from Florida’s boiling waters,
to California’s reservoirs.

The weather’s downright awful
you can hear the people say,
With the heat domes far above us
Montreal’s hotter than Bombay.

From the fiery hills of Maui
to the dry Canadian brush
from the flat lands of the delta
down to Texas by the gulf

The weather’s downright awful
you can hear the people say,
everyday the heat breaks records,
how long can we go on this way?

From the tall pines of the Great North West
to the Louisiana shore,
from Florida’s boiling waters,
to California’s reservoirs.

You can feel that something’s different,
you can hear what people say.
It kind of makes you wonder,
how long can we go on this way?
Ira Desmond Aug 2023
The oil's spilled; the weekend’s spent.
Battering rams adorn our newest cars.
The coral's bleached, our girders bent,
and as the ash falls, drones fly on Mars.

The poker chips clank on the felt.
Sweltering mules sway drunk in bars.
A toddler falls, receives a welt,
and as the fires grow, drones fly on Mars.

I could not bear to speak the truth
when you had asked me where went the stars.
A cow sits in the kissing booth,
and as the sky blackens, drones fly on Mars.

The wind has fangs; my heart now sags.
A feral pig grunts to mass applause,
Now childish men hoist cryptic flags,
and as the crops fail, drones fly on Mars.
neth jones Aug 2023
Four Crows fly over
the rear gunner ***** twice as hard
            to keep his mates
Gaps in his Wings
   from history with a Predator

Clammy weather
                       preceding
                 grey summer rainfall
summer 23
no.7

24/06/23
xjf Aug 2023
I swear, they're having battles up there
and we're missing them!
Right there! way up in the air
past all the houses, past the hills
past the pollution
Right there against the blue
They are warriors of strength through and through
I see their charges, the waves of legions
sides changing as quickly as the seasons
but they keep fighting on, forever I'm sure
The battle of the blue and white blur
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