#drizzle
I was flanked by solitude,
Everyone was taking me as drizzle,
But I awakened and showed gratitude.
Still they saw me as feeble,
I was full of melancholy,
And everyone gazed me as dolly.
For the world I was feeble ,
And my life also used to dribble,
This time the clouds were crimson,
I showed my strength not like drizzle,
I never gave up,
And became ,far more than up.
~ Roshan the great
Mar 25
Mar 25, 2026 at 2:50 PM UTC
people say they love the rain but I wonder what kind?
the soft drizzle?
or the downpour of a thunderstorm?
the raindrops rolling down the window type rain?
or the dance in the rain kind?
I love the rain all types really but what I love most are the thunderstorms
the "thunder rolls" song type
the lightning flashing through the sky in a beautiful light show.
loud and chaotic
wild and untameable
let me watch the rain pour from the gray sky
let me dance in it till it soaks me to the bone
let me set myself free in it
let my hair stick to my face
let me laugh and smile as the raindrops trail down my body,
in the caress only they can give.
let me be as wild as a loping steed,
galloping through grassy hills.
but what I ask is your favorite kind of rain?
wild or calm?
chaotic or peaceful?
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 4:28 PM UTC
Drizzles call, drops fall
Flicks a stillness storms fleeing
Then got to know a flock
of drips dancing in youth
outside the windowsill
So close, so away,
Enough for a drizzloss.
Cradling me a home,
yearned I, isn’t it rainproof?
Yes, if only you were blocked.
In sprinkling pond sank me lost
for gray invaded, drops are doomed
As if dawn dwells upon morn frost
Humming a tune composed by
the weeping sky
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 9:04 AM UTC
You know, Shri... Just a moment ago,
I was waiting for your message—
and then came this keen desire-
to hear the sound of your voice.
Meanwhile, it was drizzling outside.
I was overwhelmed by your thoughts...
So, I stepped out for a while.
The weather was pretty—cold and quiet.
I felt the rain fall over me, soft and cool,
tiny drops dancing across my skin.
Then, my eyes fell on a small pit,
filled with tiny droplets—
I dipped my foot into it,
and the sensation-
a language my skin couldn't translate.
It felt so nice—
those tiny drops over me...
They reminded me of you
Jun 6, 2025
Jun 6, 2025 at 11:37 AM UTC
What does sadness mean?
Are you sad?
I think, I am.
What’s your favorite color?
Green, like moss on wood after a drizzle.
Do you miss him?
Yes.
That’s sadness.
Are you sad?
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 10:37 AM UTC
It’s not the dank, damp, grey days.
It’s not the drizzle that seeps through the seams of my coat.
It’s not the dark mornings.
It’s not the dark evenings.
It’s the crisp air of an early morning frost.
It’s the spiders’ webs glistening with frozen dew.
It’s the shades and hues as the leaves turn golden.
It’s the peace and quiet as nature settles down for her long sleep.
Sep 30, 2024
Sep 30, 2024 at 12:27 AM UTC
Like a steady drizzle
You changed me
I didn't even notice you did
Until my soul was soaked
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 7:45 PM UTC
The sound of drizzle on the rooftops brings back memories.
Memories of the years
that leave a few tears
beneath your eyes.
Sometimes it is astonishing
when you realize
how quickly time flies.
It takes you on a roller coaster ride
over the sharp edges of life.
Along the way you experience precious moments
that make you appreciate life.
Some moments of laughter,
some moments of tears and
some spent in melancholic thoughts.
These moments often transform into memories.
Memories of the times you spent,
the faces you saw
and the battles you fought.
When you hear the sound of raindrops
drizzling on the rooftop.
Sometimes it brings back memories.
Memories of those years
that often leave a few tears behind.
After all, what are we without these memories?
Mere mortals made of space dust and mundane miseries.
We go through life, dealing with both loss and gain.
All those transactions can't be repeated,
but the memories will always remain.
So rain, fall harder tonight
and bring back those memories.
Memories of the moments
that provide us an escape
from a life of mundane miseries.
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 10:51 AM UTC
brainstorming
i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself,
“this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.”
i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me.
i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit.
i know i’ll finish this soon.
i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it.
i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in.
i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping.
my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences.
as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 2:35 AM UTC
She falls like caress on the ground.
Washing the bad,
spreading joy.
Each speck of her speaks of love.
She was gifted perhaps from the moon,
dearest monsoon.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 7:51 AM UTC
Trickster drizzle peters,
Expectant trees are mawkish;
Rain’s failed sweet promise!
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
It's all cliche,
I know it is.
The cloudy sky,
The cool breeze,
The slow drizzle
As the water falls from the gray clouds,
Like my hope from my soul.
I slowly meander down the bridge,
The road empty of any life.
No cars, no people,
No dogs barking.
Just silence.
I splash through puddles
Without regret,
Barely acknowledging their existence.
Like no one acknowledges mine.
My hand finds the wet railing,
Slippery and damp,
And immediately the cold
Seeps through my skin,
Taking over my body,
Filling every part with darkness
And gloominess and hopelessness and death.
Except for a corner of my heart.
The smallest fiber of my being is
Awakened, a spot of warmth within
A dark cave.
A minuscule fire in an ice cavern.
And I turn away from the railing,
Leaving the cold, leaving the wet.
I refuse to be a cliche.
I walk down the road,
And this time, I hear a car approaching,
A bird calling, a dog barking, people talking.
The sun pokes through the clouds,
Timidly, wondering if anyone noticed
It was gone, if anyone is happy it has returned.
I am. I'm glad it's back.
I'm glad I'm back.
And I'm not leaving.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
The sun shines so bright,
On the half-dead meadows near.
A little drizzle,
Creates, glares of peridot
Waves in like colourful flare
©sim
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 10:00 PM UTC
deep desire drizzling today, dark clouds drained by weight....
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 6:38 AM UTC
The moody greys;
The rain that stings;
A thousand random,
Happy things,
That makes me want
To leap and play;
To take in the splendor
Of this cold, wet day,
And revel in it's quiet gloom-
To watch it weave
On it's dampened loom-
For daylight does not at all compare
With this misty, freshened,
Dripping air.
Though all and sundry
Are brought down low
By the gift the heavens
So kindly bestow,
I feel instead Nature's kiss
In this, the weather
I always miss.
So while others may think to complain,
And shake their fists at the falling rain,
The soothing wind doth caress my cheek;
And so, inspired,
I thought to speak-
Of the drought of sun,
And it's absent rays;
And this,
The perfect, rainy day.
But an exaltation,
a prayer to none:
I do not wish this day be done;
Rather I would plead,
Sincere,
To leave this solemn weather here.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
When I look at my love I am bound to praise
With this chase I will become like a real blaze
What a beautiful piece of art she is I see I gaze
Then I raise this chase but in very many ways
Love is eternal but beauty makes it immortal
It gives air and increases oil in burning candle
It comes in little drops just like a rain to drizzle
It makes life innocently delightful and graceful
My beloved most beautiful act is just to extend
Sheer love, in pure form to enhance and pretend
You and me have specific love trend and blend
We will go together on love path as determined
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
music of a drizzle,
wet smell of earth
a sun scattered face,
some winter morning
moonlight walks
with me, at dusk
sleep glows in
a deep cave
I dwell on you...
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
I saw your eyes rain today,
What started as a slight drizzle
Turned into a heavy pour.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
*The trees dance
to your madness
As your heart hides thunder
and your veins resemble lightning...
Rather dim,
Perhaps by the darkness of your soul.
Since birth,
We were guaranteed that when it rains,
it will pour like never before...
Fear not to cry little one.
There is far more hurricane in this world
and you Ms,
you were not made for occasional drizzle.
Storm*
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
The distant howl of a fox
The high pitch sound of crickets
The croaking of the frogs
The light sound of the drizzle
This music of the Night
Makes me dreamy and happy
And I am slowly
slipping into the night's sleep
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
I can taste the kiss of last night’s rain,
its touch so gentle, as if my body
were a pond rippling from drizzle.
We humans have a language
we choose not to speak,
a brimming tower of gestures meaning
nothing, at least, until we say them.
Hands that float like foreign syllables,
twitching legs that jitter in time
to the anxiety of others’ conversations.
Posture can hold an argument of its own
the way it makes us sturdy as bronze.
In this darkness, I shake my silence
like a bad dream. I want to be honest.
I want to be a silver thread sown
into this patchwork quilt world. The rain
whispers yes. It says let me kiss you
so that your lips feel like they’re dancing.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 9:36 PM UTC
Faded Glory
Sweatshirt clenches my
teary salt seas.
Mascara on cotton
like drizzle upon Asphalt.
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC