#looming
My first mistake;
Going to Icarus to learn how to fly
In essence shrinking the distance to a wrap of pine
Resting eternal, days fly by
But never again will a day go by
Where I'll see another dark cloud looming in my sky
Where I'm headed there is no sky
©2024
May 6, 2024
May 6, 2024 at 7:17 PM UTC
Lately I have had a feeling of a sense of deep foreboding in the air,
every time I stop to pause, to think, I can feel it just lurking there.
An all pervasive feeling that all things are not as they should be,
and I get an anxious sensation that it's effects are not just on me.
Colours of nature seem all faded and the air seems different too,
the sky is somehow much more ominous and appears a paler blue.
Even the birds I see upon their wing seem more skittish everyday,
and I wonder if they feel it too, does a dark fear halt their play?
I sense a tension in the natural order of these once normal things,
and my heart and mind are fearful of what message this all brings.
Like some silent siren wailing or invisible flashing hazard light,
my mind is filled with deepest dread and senses things aren't right.
Far too much time caught up thinking upon the portents that I see,
with each terrifying thought I pray for all, to hope that its just me.
Jul 24, 2022
Jul 24, 2022 at 9:45 PM UTC
Looming over me menacingly
Vividly vicious
The truth
In it's painful honesty
Plain to see
Evidently
The truth of a looming prophecy
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC
I do what you do
Linger and loom like colors
On the horizon
Dec 4, 2020
Dec 4, 2020 at 6:57 AM UTC
The rain keeps falling
As dry as a drought.
“ *Rain drops heavier than water,
When it’s laden with doubt.* “
He said,
“ *The ground simply can’t hold it
… So it must go without.* “
*” You’ve never known water to stain,
But you’ve never felt this kind of rain.
It’s thicker than your skin.
It stains your clothes and what’s within.
It sounds like hammers as it pounds -
And yet, the ground won’t let it in.
So it flows like a river that only gets bigger;
It runs like a force that knows no remorse.
Despite endless efforts to stop it -
It still runs like a faucet…
With nowhere to drain. "*
But if the ground holds no plants, is the water so vital?
Is the rain’s sole purpose this lifeless recital?
The ground stays so strong.
It holds fast, like pure stone
But can one stay so long when one’s so alone?
When one is forced to move,
Will the ground or the rain?
And when the first one has gone,
Will the other remain?
For now, they coexist,
Each facing a challenge it can’t resist -
Both unstoppable and immovable,
They hopelessly persist.
As complements, they combine
With the product of a flood.
But the water that’s collecting
Has the consistency of blood.
There’s a heart behind this water.
It pulses, instead of flowing.
So you turn to the only man you know,
for parting words with danger growing.
And he says, as you leave:
“ *I wish you luck where you are going.
My son, you’ve only seen the rain . . .
. . . The winds are not yet blowing*.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 1:43 AM UTC
Deceivingly aquamarine sky
Oversees the madness of summers
Whose days are closing in
But this time your astral projection
Conquers the atmosphere
And my lungs join the prayer of ribs
Asking for
"Please turn this grasp into a caress
Soothing the burns
That I may have the chance
To become remedy"
Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 4:05 AM UTC
I am thunder
I am lightning
I am a length of the Willow whip in the wind
Ever cracking in the air and striking
Precariously
That’s how I like to live
When I’m on point
And on the edge
No one can withstand the imminence
The ultimate outcome
When I assume this stance
Ask anyone of my dominance
And they’ll assure you of such prominence
Because when I unchained myself
The thunder rolls
And the strike looms
Ominously
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC
Paddling through images on my phone--
they are the only life boat in sight
a little floating canoe in the middle of a mighty ocean.
The tide is turning, trying to advert some ugly storm that's rising up;
debris fills the whirl pool as it slowly tempts to drag my anchor in.
Smudges appear on the glowing screen of my preoccupation,
as the teary drops blotch out the imagery I cling onto.
Only gaining more wind as it descends to sink this dinky ship.
Cascades of waves streamline their way through my finger tips,
settling into the motion, the shambles of the scooter rip away from me
Trembling as the mind wanders from surface to drowning.
Face down in a public space,
without any buoy to hold onto
These rampant waves will water-board the mind.
The campaign to survive, sunk with final life boat
As the perfect storm was able,
to fatally take my breath away.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 4:53 AM UTC
No longer
do I find joy
in the faces I see every day
and the voices I hear
around me
Looming clouds
have altered my vision
and now
nothing here is my own
and I do not live here
and I am not of this town
Perhaps all I had
was never mine to begin with
and now
I am lost
in a sea of doubt
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC