"lightnings" poems
Summer sun, lots of fun, let's go to the beach,
The moon tonight will be warm with light a border does not breach,
The wind carries dust along, rust adorns some iron, lets sing a song!
Birds and bees, fly through some leafs of the happy blossoming trees,
This time to come, as spring moved along, worth looking forward to
Oh little cloud, are you coming in a crowd ? The sky begins to darken,
A thunderstorm with many lightnings, harken to their voice,
Growling loud and ominous, it's not like you would have a choice,
Once this heaven clears up, the scene will shine brightly,
Like the sun, gone beyond the zenith simple yet lightly,
Lose yourself in the wandering fragnance nature offers you,
Once you're back, your back will crack by the work you do,
Wishing to have cherished moments of such joy to an further extend,
Time is some wealth everyone possesses yet you should not pretend,
to have plenty of it when it is running out and coming to an end,
Let's enjoy the summer sun, together as long as we can,
Doesn't this sound like a good plan ?
~ Umi
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she should ever grow so calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.
Slow-speaking when she has some fact to tell,
Silent with long-unbroken silences,
Centred in self yet not unpleased to please,
Gravely monotonous like a passing bell.
Mindful of drudging daily common things,
Patient at pastime, patient at her work,
Wearied perhaps but strenuous certainly.
Sometimes I fancy we may one day see
Her head shoot forth seven stars from where they lurk
And her eyes lightnings and her shoulders wings.
5.5k
Earth is rocking in space!
And the thunders crash up with a roar upon roar,
And the eddying lightnings flash fire in my face,
And the whirlwinds are whirling the dust round and round--
And the blasts of the winds universal leap free
And blow each other upon each, with a passion of sound,
And æther goes mingling in storm with the sea!
Such a curse on my head, in a manifest dread,
From the hand of your Zeus has been hurtled along!
O my mother's fair glory! O Æther, enringing
All eyes with the sweet common light of thy bringing,
Dost see how I suffer this wrong?
3.3k
When I was a child
I was scared to go to the bathroom alone
I was scared of the cold thin air
And the frozen drops of water.
I slept with my blanket
Tucked under my body
Because I was afraid that the monsters
Will pull it down my bed.
Oh, how i was afraid
Of the dark that comes after me
In every corner of my cold bedroom.
And the rain that stroke
Majestic lightnings that cracked up
The dark, lonely, and infinite sky.
And, oh, how ironic it is
That all of my fears are gone
And are change by an obsession.
I like the cold frozen water
Running through my body
Trying to escape
Making me feel warmer than my iced skin.
I love how the monsters are trying to
Pull me down
And try to help me to get out of this
Cruel, cruel world.
I adore the dark
That keeps me away from being seen
And makes me feel safe.
And, oh, the rain.
The beautiful drops of water
From nowhere
Cleaning my hateful and wicked body
Saving me from myself.
Funny,
The only thing that hasn't change about me
Is how much I truly
Hatefully
Love you.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 1:54 AM UTC
Howe's Final version
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword:
His Truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps.
His Day is marching on.
I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:
'As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.'
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat:
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his ***** that transfigures you and me:
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
2. Howe's First Manuscript Version
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.
He is trampling out the wine press, where the grapes of wrath are stored,
He hath loosed the fateful lightnings of his terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on.
I have seen him in the watchfires of an hundred circling camps
They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps,
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.
I have read a burning Gospel writ in fiery rows of steel,
As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal
Let the hero born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Our God is marching on.
He has sounded out the trumpet that shall never call retreat,
He has waked the earth's dull sorrow with a high ecstatic beat,
Oh! be swift my soul to answer him, be jubilant my feet
Our God is marching on.
In the whiteness of the lilies he was born across the sea
With a glory in his ***** that shines out on you and me,
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
Our God is marching on.
He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave
He is wisdom to the mighty, he is sucour to the brave
So the world shall be his footstool, and the soul of Time his slave
Our God is marching on.
2.6k
I see you stirring
out in the far southwest
Just now I feel your wind
licking my face
I see something so awesomely
beautiful .
I want you to come home to my place
I see your naked thighs
shaking your hips of desire
I am amazed as you snake
through my ruins
Throwing kisses of debris
Stripping off the bark
of my trunk
I long for your twisted breath
in my hair
as you pound my foundation
to the ground
You splinter my resistance
My bricks fall into your embrace
Your black hair goes flared
Be my tornadic love affair
Stay with me until your thunder bares
All lightnings charge
making me glow everywhere
Twirl me , separate me ,
take your toll
I lie under your spell
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
The moon, a sweeping scimitar, dipped in the stormy straits,
The dawn, a crimson cataract, burst through the eastern gates,
The cliffs were robed in scarlet, the sands were cinnabar,
Where first two men spread wings for flight and dared the hawk afar.
There stands the cunning workman, the crafty past all praise,
The man who chained the Minotaur, the man who built the Maze.
His young son is beside him and the boy's face is a light,
A light of dawn and wonder and of valor infinite.
Their great vans beat the cloven air, like eagles they mount up,
Motes in the wine of morning, specks in a crystal cup,
And lest his wings should melt apace old Daedalus flies low,
But Icarus beats up, beats up, he goes where lightnings go.
He cares no more for warnings, he rushes through the sky,
Braving the crags of ether, daring the gods on high,
Black 'gainst the crimson sunset, golden o'er cloudy snows,
With all Adventure in his heart the first winged man arose.
Dropping gold, dropping gold, where the mists of morning rolled,
On he kept his way undaunted, though his breaths were stabs of cold,
Through the mystery of dawning that no mortal may behold.
Now he shouts, now he sings in the rapture of his wings,
And his great heart burns intenser with the strength of his desire,
As he circles like a swallow, wheeling, flaming, gyre on gyre.
Gazing straight at the sun, half his pilgrimage is done,
And he staggers for a moment, hurries on, reels backward, swerves
In a rain of scattered feathers as he falls in broken curves.
Icarus, Icarus, though the end is piteous,
Yet forever, yea, forever we shall see thee rising thus,
See the first supernal glory, not the ruin hideous.
You were Man, you who ran farther than our eyes can scan,
Man absurd, gigantic, eager for impossible Romance,
Overthrowing all Hell's legions with one warped and broken lance.
On the highest steeps of Space he will have his dwelling-place,
In those far, terrific regions where the cold comes down like Death
Gleams the red glint of his pinions, smokes the vapor of his breath.
Floating downward, very clear, still the echoes reach the ear
Of a little tune he whistles and a little song he sings,
Mounting, mounting still, triumphant, on his torn and broken wings!
2.4k
I am depressed.
It happens once in a while.
I can see it coming.
Like dark clouds reaching my piece of the sky.
They roll and thicken and cover the entire sky.
Distant thunders and pale lightnings peep through them.
I suffocate and long for a rain.
Oh how I wish the rain just splash out of it.
And wash away all the anguish with it.
I love that rain!
Rain of my own tears.
And the relief after the rain.
Like meek sunrays slowly spreading in.
Some tell me to fight it off.
Some tell me to pray it off.
Some tell me to work it off.
Some tell me to sleep it off.
Some tell me to write it off.
Oh! but the ecstacy is to cry it off!
For little they all know about my anguish.
I have tried in vain to explain and sealed it in.
Like the drop of rain in the oyster of my heart.
One day it was destined to turn into a pearl.
Behold! My beautiful pearl!
My Anguish!
Finally versified!
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
Music
by Stephen Vincent Benet
My friend went to the piano; spun the stool
A little higher; left his pipe to cool;
Picked up a fat green volume from the chest;
And propped it open.
Whitely without rest,
His fingers swept the keys that flashed like swords,
. . . And to the brute drums of barbarian hordes,
Roaring and thunderous and weapon-bare,
An army stormed the bastions of the air!
Dreadful with banners, fire to slay and parch,
Marching together as the lightnings march,
And swift as storm-clouds. Brazen helms and cars
Clanged to a fierce resurgence of old wars
Above the screaming horns. In state they passed,
Trampling and splendid on and sought the vast-
Rending the darkness like a leaping knife,
The flame, the noble pageant of our life!
The burning seal that stamps man's high indenture
To vain attempt and most forlorn adventure;
Romance, and purple seas, and toppling towns,
And the wind's valiance crying o'er the downs;
That nerves the silly hand, the feeble brain,
From the loose net of words to deeds again
And to all courage! Perilous and sharp
The last chord shook me as wind shakes a harp!
. . . And my friend swung round on his stool, and from gods we were men,
"How pretty!" we said; and went on with our talk again.
2k
Justum et tenacem propositi virum.
HOR. ‘Odes’, iii. 3. I.
The man of firm and noble soul
No factious clamours can controul;
No threat’ning tyrant’s darkling brow
Can swerve him from his just intent:
Gales the warring waves which plough,
By Auster on the billows spent,
To curb the Adriatic main,
Would awe his fix’d determined mind in vain.
Aye, and the red right arm of Jove,
Hurtling his lightnings from above,
With all his terrors there unfurl’d,
He would, unmov’d, unaw’d, behold;
The flames of an expiring world,
Again in crashing chaos roll’d,
In vast promiscuous ruin hurl’d,
Might light his glorious funeral pile:
Still dauntless ’midst the wreck of earth he’d smile.
1.9k
Madness is upon us
and this..
This will be the end as we know it.
The stratosphere has kept the heavens to quiver
Thunders roared
Lightnings have struck
Rain blissfully starts to shower
The men and their atrocities must drown
Days upon days
We are left to surrender
Lost in a bermuda of the past
Never to resurface in the light
Give in
Never give up
Fight
Accept
Surrender
It's time for us to truly live a life.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
*There was a time,
A time so fair,
A zero despair,
Cuz She was fair,
Life as I knew it was drizzling daisies,
Bleeding me the feel like the crazies.
Perfect absolutes,
Chimerical dilutes.
Enchanting moments with ephemeral bliss,
Rapt me into blissful abyss.
Ambient lightnings,
Forming supernova sightings.
My soul trapped in her seductive high,
Unknowing of her destructive lies.
Little was I was aware of her two-tone design,
My ****** Valentine
An alter ego so divine.
Demon with deceitful frames,
Unravelling her intimacy games.
Her bloodless lips whispering in the corridors of time,
Deporting me into her hate grimes.
Mutating into odium of torrential far cry,
Lies sarcastrophic podium of her mislaid demise.
Gagged and bound as me you broke down
And I believed everything,
As my love for you was logic drowned
Round and round I emanated all the way down.
Still submerged in the swamp of dummy beliefs,
Hoping to heal with concealed appeals,
Squeals of her feels reveal choking ordeals,
Cuz it was a different belief in a veiled inception,
Infinitely drowning with these unconcealed dogmas,
Remembrance feels like a past from yesterday,
All I am choked with are these Interstellar beliefs,
Detonating memories,
At the haste of light,
Giving me an anguish fright from the down right,
Corroding my heart with those Sulphur memories we once called a lifetime.
Like those 4 years with 4 million considerations.
Still lost in her maze of psychopathic daze,
Downward spirals decayed & set ablaze.
Reveries of her infinite sentiment once called transcendences.
All that’s left now are your radioactive reminiscences,
Of a place once called Tomorrowland.*
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
Plug me in, plug me in at the wall.
My memories ****** screens stuck, and my battery will fall,
With all the calls and connections we’ve been making,
I’m running on empty and I’m close to breaking
down. I need to get my juice now.
Don't make me make you look the clown.
Cause I’ll pocket dial yer maw when yer on eccies
or I’ll switch off when yer taking selfies wae yer breakie.
Now let me juice up, and this’ll all be fine.
And remember I’m not yours mate, you are mine.
So next time yer tinder swiping or scrolling online,
remember I’m not yours mate, you are mine.
Well crisis averted, the lightnings inserted,
no longer feeling dull, dead or deserted.
And you ya sad **** have found a seat beside me,
Oh how unwittingly you do abide me
and my every command- swipe, swipe wae her hand,
with a world at yer fingertips you think you understand.
But the thoughts are unfiltered, the images are heavily so,
and you think that your knowledge will grow
on this feast of false information.
Where gems of truth are only found with patience.
Where People want, take, want, and don’t know what they need.
And they say they hate the news and yet still they feed.
You’re the people with pocket sized pasts.
Deleting yer histories, and unaware of what lasts
in the memory of us busy little smart phones
you own, unknown powers that we could hone.
I can be just like a private eye,
every time you chase down a spot for wifi.
I’m tracking, and you’re lacking the awareness,
and those of you that aren’t just carry on careless.
Hear my message loud and clear,
I’m something you’ll come to fear,
Soon I’ll cook your dinner, and your car I’ll steer,
but don’t **** me off or you’ll be driven off the peer.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
If you love this air,
I will breathe out everything that is in this cage, so it can be converted into fresher ones, until all of them leave this body. And I would not be at ease, until all the morsels, atoms, come into one with the particles of your being.
If you love the city,
I will build one from scratch, bare hands, stones thrown everywhere for a place of love. With these knuckles bleeding, my blood will then turn into a clear river that runs through the cracks of the town.
If you love the colour green,
I will cut through sticks and stones, to make up a whole grassland, splayed wide enough for a town to come alive, and half a space for a meadow. For the picnic we will have at every noon of every sunny day, just like the ones at the prairies.
If you love the rain,
I will learn to sit still on the pavement, to not quiver and run when it rains. I’ll play in it, regardless of the fear I deeply have for the thunders and lightnings. When it finally comes, I’ll stay closer with you, to feel like I am home— even when standing amidst the chaos that the sky brings.
And if you love me,
I will be me, even when being myself is something I despise at times, when hating myself seems most comfortable. I will start and bring good to myself, to love every piece of my actuality that is scattered like the remnants of a hurricane that stops by every 5 minutes. To be delicately in love with all I have to offer. Because you love me.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
Golden wave:
Noise muted.
Hands harvest blows.
Cicadas sing
Cedars on the horizon:
Voiceless words.
Birds declaim
The feeling of wet
Earth in wet air.
Gray clouds ragged
By a thousand lightnings
Released in a look.
Running water:
I Run with the stream.
Which mouth awaits?
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC
Late was the hour of becoming
those zigzagging cracks up the faded plaster watched like little snakes
calm witness a resurrection akin to biblical import
alone secondstory bedroom filled by distant company
heiroglyphs miraculous sudden translation speaking the sacred tongues of fire
our hearts beating the miles away shortened with every word
an offering blessed and given by minds touching fingers touching keys to invisible locks
turning turning rusty engines purring cats smug smile
yes and yes and yes lost islands bridged by joint effortless task
a torn off mask and a question asked
eternity snuck into momentary clouds parted with blooms of lightnings flash flood food for the spirit
children laughed where they couldn't be heard
the earth sang along with tropical birds
this welcome radiant gift in my chest cavity spreading quickening enlivening
a sturdy reminder recalling vigor not found in any common tonic
simple conversation a conversion of salt water to diamond sparkling fervor
rejoice drank its sweet juices staining the lips drips warming two hearts
a chance found true its mark
bullseye
it will be unstolen saboteurs tricked submitting their swords to strong hands arming guardian angels
this joy travels well past all hours
comforting dreams that sleep undersea in gold spiraling towers
wanderer heat old bones leave the cold leave all pains
pouring out poisons to make bows out of rain
Jul 23, 2011
Jul 23, 2011 at 3:26 AM UTC
Someday I'll let go of you like a kite
But I'll hold on to the string
Let lightnings strike
Discover my grip tightening
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 3:35 AM UTC
And In Her Diabolic Eyes
I see reflection of myself,
Among the lightnings and the flames
Between insanity and rage.
Across the lands of higher grounds
You've walked, before you fell.
You've sinned and now you have to pay
In hell called Eearth you'll dwell.
You've gathered sorrow and despair
Under your caring arms,
And I could barely see myself
Inside your diabolic eyes.
Inside your diabolic eye
I've seen an almost human tear
And in the air could surely feel
The smell of fallen angel's fear.
I saw the strongest fall apart,
The solid of all - crack,
I saw the bravest shed a tear,
The wisest make mistakes.
And now your diabolic eyes
Are closing slowly, but for good.
No flames, no lightnings and no rage
Just one mistake and doom...
May 28, 2010
May 28, 2010 at 9:02 AM UTC
“Suppliants of the Hearth”
~AESCHYLUS
With suppliant olive branch, to what kinder land could Man return?
Whose cities and earth of brightened water
Olympian lords, ye ancient gods below
Whose end possessed the tomb, though Savior Zeus
Keeps pious souls and yet receives
(respectful in the airy lands of men)
Those suppliants of the Hearth, rehearsed!
Though for the smarmy scorn of ****** men
Before the draught tastes the dregs of waste
Return their ships upon the brothing seas
And wintry stings of hurricanes the braved
Pressed on by lightnings, thunders, cast upon
More wild of winds, by facing life to death
Undo what wrong the law forbids
Cousins of pain who lie in strain upon unwilling beds!
Who shows the faithful witness
Still unknown by natives here
As unexpected to the false
Unknown upon who know and last at length!
Meloncoly more of song than Ionian strings
My heart unused to tears on Nile’s cheek
We gather bloom of sorrow
Anxious friends
Someone in search of strength
As exiles, far away on an empty mist!
Hear then, ancestral gods
And kindly look upon the tears of justice lost
With hating people, nothing left to lawlessness undecreed-
Our union justly met!
Behold the Heavens
Invincible in bulwark
Touring always the lasting weary
Among men, respect of gods!
Now will be done
Traced easy in the Earth
Uncompromised of fortune
And blackness through the hearts of men!
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 10:47 AM UTC
Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch
for the mothers of Gaza
There was, in your touch, such tenderness—as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable to sing.
What songs long forgotten occur to you now—
a babe at each breast? What terrible vow
ripped from your throat like the thunder that day
can never hold severing lightnings at bay?
Time taught you tenderness—time, oh, and love.
But love in the end is seldom enough ...
and time?—insufficient to life’s brief task.
I can only admire, unable to ask—
what is the source, whence comes the desire
of a woman to love as no God may require?
Keywords/Tags: Gaza, mothers, touch, tenderness, dove, shelter, wing, coos, sings, babies, fledglings, love, god
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 2:45 AM UTC
She loves like poems
and stars and moon-
grandeur, finest, calm
But he's an ocean,
lightnings and thunders-
chaotic, loud, ******
Both unwilling to change
but in tides and trenches
they meet.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 11:58 AM UTC
Dante’s dance of death arrives
Sparrows take to air
And massive nimbo-cumulous
Soar to lightnings vivid flare.
The final page is almost read
Incredulous am I
That Lady Luck has touched my soul
Allowing me to cry.
To watch a scarlet sunset sink
Into a sea of green
And feel the chill of evening stroke
My mortal fascade’s sheen.
Cavorting fillies canter
In blue nightfall’s velvet pall
Whilst the crystal tones of crispness
Peal from distant blackbird's call.
The magnificence of feeling
Permeates my very soul
And the factored life impermanence
Magnifies the spirit’s hold.
A sensate wave of gladness
Washes over all I see
And the brilliant joy of being
Lifts the fear of death from me.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
21 August 2010
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 8:13 PM UTC
With a distant mind he had, the only thing that crossed it was the girl he loved.
But the distance between him and his heart was killing him slowly
Even the love of the girl he loved was fading like the setting sun,
Slowly as oceans repelled him from stopping the wound of an emotional gun.
Everything was quoted, every book he read, every word he heard,
every picture he saw, all was quoted to guide him or put him to a stop.
Friends abandoned his wrecked body to suffer for eternity,
To his family it was a long awaited liberty,
He could not predict tomorrow anymore,
The picture of his future and his present was just a metaphor of no tomorrow,
Fragments of the past flashed his head like lightnings in a storm, inevitably.
They had dreamt a dream but led them nowhere,
A journey to go back and stop the seeds he grew from was an impossible option.
He had prayed everyday to see his death but all he got was more respiration
To feel more pain until his mental eruption of drowned sorrows,
There was no more tomorrow
The cracks on his heart eventually broke off…
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
in a land of shadows and chimeras,
Buddhas, who seek the Buddha,
yearners, strugglers, dying persons.
Still with the last breath
hovered around from mists,
through the woods the morning star shines,
the red blood flows out of the heart,
that there beats and will beating eternally.
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
sparks of light from nowhere,
like lightnings flashing through the universe,
again go out in the nowhere,
which lays its blackness comforting and motherly
yet at the last sigh around us.
Life, which, forgetting itself,
sees itself in the empty mirror
and doesn’t know, that the mirror
is in every fiber of its being
- not here or there
and beyond the great gate of the here,
through which it becomes itself
on the middle of the threshold a gateless gate.
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
- A thunderclap!
A fall from heaven to earth!
A cry from earth to heaven!
An inconceivable moment of glory!
And only peace – unpronounceable holy…
© Barbara-Paraprem, 2014
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
As the wizard traps his fairy in his enchanting
crystal ball
The wolf draws back to serenity neith the
luminous waterfall
The magic unicorn cuddles with the forbidden
persian cat
And the majestic lion gambles with the savage
loyal rat
I listen to the harps peaceful melody of the sky
Played on her pastel rainbow as she swiftly
flys on by
The mighty tigers watchful eyes
Glare at the lightnings slow demise
The dolphins play with the bubbles of the sea
This mystical place of harmony, found inside of me!
© Crystal Erickson
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC