"cumulonimbus" poems
I:
In which
I
amid the
whirring lights
and emerald
felt
drift
through a
raucous
flashing casino
searching
for a
table
with an open
chair
so I can
finally start
to play
the game
II:
In which all of us
are together again at last
for a family gathering—
Thanksgiving supper, perhaps—
and, as we greet each other,
I happen to glance skyward,
unthinking,
and notice that clouds
of a turbid
cumulonimbus gray
are beginning to coalesce overhead.
I look up again and notice
that they have spun
into dozens of funnel shapes,
each of them
starting to reach down for us
like the ashen fingers of Death.
We huddle down in the cellar,
praying the storm will pass.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 7:00 AM UTC
On rising heat, killdeer flush
to decoy enemy--
threat to its young that roams too close
They rush to skim on hayish blur
wailing over wildflowers drying
Fretful twitter in perpetual flight
swifts-- twirl and hurl their bits of bodies--
debris
from a cumulonimbus of a late-day sky
toward a ridge of stag horn sumac
presuming horizon primordial
behind which time and city-- drift and wobble
on rising heat-- after rush hour
Rising Heat
Rising--
to meet my mind
on its way down
from my post behind
the laundromat
where I view it all--
rising--
where I usually go in search of quiet
to almost hear the ocean
two hundred miles away
to strain words from wind
in careless conversation
to wonder over
missed whispers....
But not today
In rising heat, I went down
in search of something better--
your eyes again
solvent for my presence of mind
dissolvers of hours and the order of things
But I need an excuse!
To turn, to trespass, to disturb the peace!
For your eyes again!
And still I need more-- being feverish, weak
Or?
Or... should I take the cure?
To deny ...To deny
To deny what?
Overtones from a sea of years?
I don't know! Whatever it was!
Nothing explain it...
I melt... I'm gone....
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
i do not think that this is a poem -
but i decided some things about you & i.
if people are colors, you are blue and i am green.
if people are seasons, you are spring and i am autumn.
if people are flowers, you are a forget-me-not and i am a poppy.
if people are drinks, you are hot chocolate and i am pink lemonade.
if people are candy, you are an everlasting gobstopper and i am a hershey's kiss.
if people are clouds, you are a cumulonimbus and i am a cirrostratus.
if people are times of day, you are dusk and i am dawn.
if people are trees, you are a weeping willow and i am a dogwood.
if people are languages you are french and i am portuguese.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 7:20 AM UTC
I will buy a wedding dress,
and I will send a letter to all the people I ever loved
and ever loved me
and it will say "I will be at the courthouse
in my dress
and I will marry the first one to show."
If no one shows,
I will drink a bottle of wine to myself
and dance in the dress until I'm covered
in nothing but cumulonimbus.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 6:00 AM UTC
Manitoban Skies
Clouds are the mountains of the prairies
Towering cumulonimbus masses
Incredible backdrops across an otherwise plain blue sky
Warning call that rainstorms may approach
Vertical reminders of atmospheric instability
Jetted upwards into vast formations stretching miles and miles
Promises of unrelenting lighting and thunder
Cinematic sequences is country folk are lucky to view
Humidity in the summer, ah
What would we do without you?
Rolling clouds are a fair trade for the lack of rolling hills
Clouds are the mountains of the prairies.
Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
*Your eyes are like ocean
So deep blue and clear
They hold such a treasure
Yet it is all deep inside.
The ocean is calm, no wind blows
Over its divine serenity
The warmth of it is worth to dive in
And discover yet what is undiscovered
So your eyes tell me to do
I know the ocean is calm
When your heart is peaceful.
Yet sometimes I see grey
Cumulonimbus clouds have covered
The deep blue ocean and the wind
It is strong and severe I feel
The foamy tender waves have grown
And hit ashore, they do come fast
The ocean rises and some of its water
Pours out and falls down on your cheeks.
Not often is the ocean so sad
The sun is keeping it merry and blue
It can be wonder to see
When the stars come down from sky
And take a bath in the blue water
It is so bright and glittery
I can see all the radiance
Just by looking in your deep blue ocean eyes.*
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC
I wonder what puppies dream of.
Their eyes roll back and twitter away,
As their bodies twitch and sometimes frighten you.
They snarl, they yelp,
They bark, and they huff.
Is she chasing the birds out the window?
Scurrying after those squirrels?
Does she use her big curly ears to fly
Around like Dumbo,
Pulling apart every cumulonimbus cloud?
Dream on Eva-pup.
Dream on.
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 5:58 PM UTC
He grasps stardust in his
Hands
Sand they turn truly lovely
In one hand
The edges glint golden rusty and Brown they turn
The color of lovely shriveled late
Autumn leaves
They sink soundly to the ground
Smell of raw;
Earthy taste moist like rich bread and wine
So red his lips have not
The look of innocence
Stripped naked like bark chiseled wood
How I would love them forever
My vain endeavour
Still he lays partially
Amongst the blotchy patch of shade as
The
Tree
Lovingly sways
To the sound of his
Coos
Darling he sleeps as the Sheep watch over him
My little Sheppard boy
Dreamingly sound
May rippling waters of your subconscious mind settle to shore
Tides emerge in deepest
Blue
Violently crash into the
Crimson colored rocky edge of the
Stone face cliff
Now faced with thick
Cumulonimbus clouds that
Cloud the dawn's last fiery
Light
Streaks of lightening
Silhouette whip upon his
Face and like thunder the
Lions
Roar not in pain
But in vigorous anger as
The ringmaster bows at the
Choking applaud of the
Painted audience
The wind unweaves grassy tangles in your hair
Tormenting suitors
Tease;
You messily please
Imperfectly perfect that you are able to
Appeal as effortlessly
Dressed in natures blend
Like a jar of
Roasted nuts
Of assorted trail mix
Still
You lay there
Decorated in earth's blankets of roots Grass
Twigs leaves
Oh
How it hurts to leave
I'd sit here loving you
Instead
Twist peering down upon
Deepest desires
Swept in eternal sleep
Longingly
I join your slumber
Drift into dream where I
May wake up finding you
Beside me
Where sleep steals me upon
Your shoulder
Warmth of arms lightly
Grasped
Dawn red as a match in the
Distance slowly
Smothered
Surrendering to nights cold
Silence
But the stars
Whispers of compliments to
The moon
Each night loved you kindly
Each star a kiss upon your
Cheek
May the stars love you Sweeter than they have Loved me
But darling I've loved you
Forever
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
You are the cold silent breeze
I am the wild windstorm
You are the gentle humming of the leaves
I am the startling blare of thunder
You are the first ray of sunshine after a downpour
I am the piercing lightning
You are the fleeting floating clouds of cotton
I am the cumulonimbus cloud brewing a monsoon
You are the smell before and after the rain
You are the calm before and after the storm
I am the chaos in between
Enclosing me in your peaceful clasp
Embrace me
Tighter
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 5:48 PM UTC
if every word i said could make you laugh i'd talk forever
the stereotypical lines don't work on your brilliance
your cold
my intellectual rain cloud
bringing me my favorite weather
not without the wet socks of course
it all hurts
the constant sunshine
my pale skin only wants your cumulonimbus touch
tracing my skin
your gentle raindrops
bring me to seattle
our future with no barriers
i rub my own back
replaying the memories in my head
my favorites
your regrets
i try to calm myself down
but only your shush will suppress the tears
only your sheetless bed will defeat the cold
only your presence will crowd the loneliness
i surrender
will i ever hit the bottom of this sad abyss?
can you pull me out?
i know you can
there i go again
answering my own questions
i'm not fixing anything
i'll just keep waiting
i'll just keep failing
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 9:09 PM UTC
Marched in step
Toting a little red wagon
Stride carried pep
Dragging that little red wagon
Weathered in rust
Creaking in the sun
Covered in dust
It weighs a ton
Overburdened by basic trinkets
Remnants of Christmas 05
Macaroni made cumulonimbus
From school days off winchester drive
Photo of family for evidence
Not that it means a thing
Victim of malevolence
Thrown out in early spring
Winter brought about the cough
Toting a little red wagon
His whole system seems off
Dragging that little red wagon
He's feeling old
Went and turned lethargic
Held onto the cold
Wallowing in hardship
Deterioration apparent
There's something horribly wrong
Behavior aberrant
His strength is gone
Innocence in tow
Holding onto reactionary bliss
Writing name in snow
...Blood marked abyss
Death encroaches.
He falls before his little red wagon
A young boy approaches
And steals that little red wagon
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 1:02 AM UTC
Above, above, the sky is a painting
A renaissance piece that calls out for sainting
The billows, the ripples the silver-lined rims
Are strokes of a genius; of mother earth's whims.
The cumulonimbus, the rippling ceiling
Rumbles and rolls with the cracks that are pealing
The flickering tridents, the wrath of the gods
Strike awe in the temporary, tainted and flawed
And I, insubstantial, un-lasting and fading
Stand beneath hanging eaves, hearing and waiting
Beside me, within me, a childish voice
Hums a soft tune beneath all the noise:
The sky, the sky, it's all coming down
The indigo shroud; it's falling around
In crystalline spheres and mother earth's mist-
The dust is erupting, the earth feels its kiss.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
Cumulonimbus smudged over sunlight
with dolphin grey
thumbprint
No clouds here, just 10 million
orange midnight suns
we're talking late
'til heavy eyelids drag us groundward.
This city seeps and trickles down
to sleep in groundwater
wet-haired, waking, throbbing sunrise
cased in eyes half-closed.
At most, we hoped.
At best, we strove.
At worst, we overworked ambitions
wanting, waiting, watching closely 'til
5 ticks until alarms.
At least we slept awhile...
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 2:13 AM UTC
Clouds, Clouds, Clouds, Clouds
Calculated Clouds
Interesting Idioms
Physical Phenomena
Spiritual Symbolisms
Cloud seven
Completely happy, perfectly satisfied, wholly euphoric
Cloud eight
Befuddled by drinking too much liquor
Cloud nine
Jumping for joy; walking on air
Have one’s head in the clouds
To be out of touch with reality
Every cloud has a silver lining
Difficult times always lead to better days
He must be under a cloud
People have an unfavourable opinion of him
There’s a cloud on the horizon
An omen threatening to happen in time
To live in cloud-cuckoo land
Believing those truly impossible things will happen
High-Level Clouds
Cirrus and Cirrostratus
Mid-Level Clouds
Altocumulus and Altostratus
Low-Level Clouds
Nimbostratus and Stratocumulus
Vertical Development Clouds
Cumulus and Cumulonimbus
Other Cloud Types
Contrails and Billows
Mammatus and Orographic
And Pileus
An arc in the clouds represents God’s promises
A pillar of cloud symbolised the Lord’s guidance
Do you understand the balancing of the clouds?
He that considers the clouds shall not reap
In OT times, the cloud filled the temple
Jesus Christ will return on clouds of victory
And a personal one
Black clouds one afternoon covered the Salève
Hiding a most beautiful rainbow
And despite the clouds’ efforts to confuse
His promises are forever true
Which cloud are you under?
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 2:36 PM UTC
Your thoughts are far from the ground,
Like cumulonimbus clouds thundering by
And pouring rain.
Life seems to pass by, scattered and wispy
with the sound of the wind like a whistling train playing
as you stare at the elusive silver lining.
The pit patter of Peter Pan being lost
dwells heavy in your heart,
As you revise the sequence of the cumulus memories.
Life paces
As you ignore the malice and bantering of the crowds
Sticking your head above up into the clouds
half-deaf to reality in the room.
You have a foot in a fairy tale,
And one in the abyss.
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 9:00 AM UTC
wells continuously selling wishes
springs eternally offering hope
a toss of the penny
a cup of the hands
still waters of expectation
flowing solutions of promise
eventually evaporating
somber saturation of the atmosphere
coping with disappointment
a blessing or a curse
acceptance or complacency
peace or resignation
no sleepless nights of torment
lamenting the unintended and unfair
only melancholic contemplation
of dubious cause and wayward effect
the energy of discontent has dissipated
but it can only change form
perhaps the calm before the angry storm
a condensation into indignation
clear judgment further clouded
a tempest against the fates to be weathered
torrents of despair to rage
umbrellas of faith turned inside-out
but the sound won't be deafening
and the fury fleeting and insignificant
and as blue skies reflect in warm puddles
a fist will unclench to reveal...another coin
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
On rising heat, killdeer flush
to decoy the enemy--
threat to its young that roams too close
They rush to skim on hayish blur
wailing over wildflowers drying
Fretful twitter in perpetual flight
swifts-- twirl and hurl their bits of bodies--
debris
from a cumulonimbus of a late-day sky
toward a ridge of stag horn sumac
presuming horizon primordial
behind which time and city-- drift and wobble
on rising heat-- after rush hour
*Rising Heat
Rising--
to meet my mind
on its way down
from my post behind
the laundromat
where I view it all--
rising--
where I usually go in search of quiet
to almost hear the ocean
two hundred miles away
to strain words from wind
in careless conversation
to wonder over
missed whispers....
But not today
In rising heat, I went down
in search of something better--
your eyes again
solvent for my presence of mind
dissolvers of hours and the order of things
But I need an excuse!
To turn, to trespass, to disturb the peace!
For your eyes again!
And still I need more-- being feverish, weak
Or?
Or... should I take the cure?
To deny ...To deny
To deny what?
Overtones from a sea of years?
I don't know! Whatever it was!
Nothing explain it...
I melt... I'm gone....*
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 10:51 AM UTC
Melting pots are for racists.
The USA is a salad bowl.
The student lounge features
the veggies at their ripest,
collecting oxygen amongst themselves,
for the corn cannot exist
with the broccoli,
and so on
and so forth.
Don't even mention
fruits
to the potatoes.
And the tomatoes,
they're just weird, man,
don't even know
what they are.
We are all at our most
savory and nutritious,
our youthful wisdom
emanating through our
concrete set of hues.
The chili peppers emanate a color
as red as the blood
of their ancestral martyrdom,
no other color,
just red.
Same for the cucumbers
with hearts so coolly refrigerated,
taking forest green,
taking pastel green
with just a few drops
of ivory-scented beige
tucked neatly behind
walls of bamboo-level peels.
The voices of the onions
thud onto the floor
as if being catapulted
from cumulonimbus peaks,
causing the Iceberg lettuce
to almost drown in its own
dressing.
Lady Liberty,
a series of
produce section fragments
sitting much too sternly
with no regard for sprawling.
In the same bowl, though!
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
fiery cumulonimbus of emotion
gather ominously on your horizon
fierce silence of a righteous rage
electrifies the very air you breathe
bursts of lightening pierce the darkness
chased by thunder that shocks the heart
shattering the silence with a deafening fury
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
She smiles
Like the sun kissed flowers
Staring up at the sky
On a field of never-ending blossoms in the summer’s light
But don’t be fooled
There’s a tempest brewing
The cumulonimbus clouds murk over her inner world
So deep into her immaculate soul it’s pursuing
She loves
Like the moon’s devotion
To the vault of heaven
On a glorious gloom
But don’t be fooled
Her darkness is the asphalt
On the terra firma
When the vale is most coruscating
She exposes
Her finest face
Like an overawed beau on the first night
Of **********
But don’t be fooled
Her behemoth lies slightly waken
In the depths of her muddled consciousness
Like a war solider awaiting command
She is two sides
Of the same coin
Tossing for heads or tails
Don’t be fooled
sa
13.09.18
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:14 AM UTC
I fell short of matching all of the stars in space with the raindrops that made its way to Earth
Instead, I matched the stars in your eyes with the old pain's last breath and otherworldly love's first
The clouds have opened back up for business, booming thunder and zooming lightning
Somewhere there, the flash of your smile
The beat of your heart
The coolness of your waters that quench my thirst for you
It's natural to look at nature au naturale
Like Italians and Nigerians talking with hands as expressive as Deaf lovers relay romantic verses
Clear, nimble fingers that massage my soul within the cumulonimbus and nimbostratus
Fueling, flooding, fostering the gods' apparatus
You
The final form of unfinished paintings
Give birth to worthwhile wishful thinking
On my mind like taxes and teacher's lesson plans
A soft brush adjusting to the sky's new hues kissed like ones we've missed or knew
A masterpiece in pieces of Vishnu's vision for when he returns to look for Lakshmi
Hopefully time will not be Shiva to end this for me
How does it feel to be adored by Indra, when showers descend and drench the deepest ditches to force creation of drawbridges for those dire to cross your path again?
- Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2021
Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 5:00 AM UTC
Rain-clouds linger in cumulonimbus fascination where the cultural class-formation is shaped by abstract territoriality.
Pressure gradients of global awareness are impacted by the adiabatic process.
So, turn up the heat and chill in the waves of dialectical ontology.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
Cumulonimbus
Growls above menacingly
Snarls at the terrene
Impaled by lightning
Howls in anguish, pierced and split
Bleeds thick drops of rain
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 6:23 AM UTC
Always altering.
always breathing.
You are the sky.
and with this heart of a bird,
I long to fly
above Cumulonimbus Kingdoms
A world my eyes have once seen
and could not stray away
Land became the ocean
Sky became the mountains and fields
Morning's glory
paints your never-ending canvas
Cirrus dances in your light
sister to Alto-cumulus
She swims.
She delights.
If ever I should chose my fate,
I would freely fall
from this decaying atmosphere
to see all the world at once
to see Cumulonimbus Kingdoms
to say my final goodbye,
to my love,
the never-ending sky
before my body eternally sleeps.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC