"nimbostratus" poems
Cockcrow harbour:
the gulls whining like tethered dogs
about rooftops
paliophobic cars and
grounded vessels..
Look:
on the hoary horizon
a glaucous strip
beguils
with backwater.
Not putting on a show
the frigid sea benumbed..
Easily,
with a tail of emerald jelly
skim a vanishing lane off that
lustrous sheet
and watch
the trailblazing mainland
scuttle.
Now,
Only scattered dreaming is possible.
In it's bachelor pad,
cradling over crinkles,
away from the meretriciosness
of validating the real by sharing it,
THE WIND
blusters off any veneer.
Here,
stale but spry,
fare your way around the inoffensive isle
to it's most shyest of harbours:
a mouth full of silver
saving it's breath.
The windows facing the sea
seem
black & white,
their wooden frames hooked to the wind,
the splattered gulls meow
your name
in a way
that's
personal.
Of course comes to mind.
The pines
are demanding a visit,
They're whispering
so you can hear them,
each as different as every snore,
these pines know
how to grow in the sand
and still reach for
the Nimbostratus with heads in unison.
The spaces
between their trunks illuminating
the blazing needles
raining down
painting the ground
familiar
to your lover's
skin texture:
Feel her closeness
from jilted borderwatchtowers
as she speads her mire
like no one's watching:
weedy and sugared
with bellflowers,
the waves in her shallow armpit
billeting a pair of white swans:
demurely they float
sometimes as pillows and sometimes
as question marks..
Go ask the seasoned locals,
they say the bones she parked
when she let her ice sheet melt
are portals
to her noble underbelly.
Hidden in the woods
reminiscent of your heart,
the red
tank-sized stone
is sealed,
but what the lighting reach cannot
the rain shall sluice apart
dumbly.
And though her hair has
come to be
the moss
black and hoarse
as sailor's beard,
there is still time.
The void says
her noisy neighbour is nothing
to die for.
The theadbear car with absent doors
incites
to drive her
in reverse gear
to the first few
days of holidays:
her golden locks a-blaze,
her arm around your
hind-sighted doppelganger.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 2:20 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
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
This day has a cumulous attitude
Cirrus mixed in with the brood
Actually all kinds of clouds are mixed within
Is this a message from Our Father
Even the Cumulonimbus are on the spin
Teasing to bring forth rain
Stratocumulus are everywhere
Lumped together in rounded masses,
In line and in waves,
Perhaps to fight against such strain which surpasses
We may have to pray
Nimbostratus to bring forth rain
Until then contrails, God has given us, will ease pain
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
Nimbostratus clouds overcast
Overcast tears
Crying, crying all day, all night
Sad girl
Bad girl
Dead to the world
Done with death itself
Staring into the blue and black sky
Reminds me of my stained skin
Reminds me of the palette I use to paint
Nothing is the same
Nothing is getting better
Staring staring staring
Digital phone calls
In real life conversations
**** Bill Volume Two
Better than my life
So I sit in the parlor
Eat my skin
Dance in the rain outside
Let my body bleed
Let the rain poison my blood
My heart will **** me anyway
Watch it all play out
None of this is really true
It's all inside my head
It's all just make believe
Because you see
I'm sick
I'm really sick
I have been since the day
Mom pushed me out
I've got daydream fever
And this world is not my own
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
Layered ripples
Of nomadic shades
Drifting across the sky
Stirs daydreams.
Vivid thoughts of you
Create tangible imaginings
Of my hands upon your face
Caressing your cheeks
Trailing fingertips
Between mounds erupting on your skin
You shiver at the pleasures of my touch
Smiling at me in satisfaction
With the ease of dawn,
Reaching corners
With brighten sunrays,
Beaming in my direction.
I've longed to be held
In the embrace of your gaze
Seen only by you
When the world surrenders existence
Remaining yours in this instance
Until layered ripples
Turn from white to grey
And memories of tomorrow
Wash away.
Jul 21, 2016
Jul 21, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
Foggy weather blues
Allergies cause me to sneeze
Dead leaves and damp grass
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC
We are clouds
individual
and collective by nature--
changeless-ever-changing--
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds.
We cannot live in
photos or paintings--
inspiring but hanging
dormant like billboards
and traffic signs.
Dark clouds awaken
when angry--
fire and fury,
torrents of rain,
hail damaging.
Then Zephyr comes
to appease their anger
~god’s of the sky~
peace treaties pending.
She often drifts in like
an angel
ahead of a storm front--
thunder and lightning
her silhouette.
bringing in less
threatening clouds to
comfort us when storms
leave us angry cold and wet.
At times even darker
clouds hang ominously
and high winds are surely threatening war--
then out the blue
allies flank our enemy,
blowing away
the fiery vaporous Thor.
We float into wintertime,
into its storyline,
Drifting in and out of space
and time through seasons
of wind hail rain or shine
(essence of
our connected
and interconnected minds).
Billowing Cumulonimbus.
Dark Nimbostratus.
Thin Sirius basking in sunshine.
Shapeless grey clouds of snow,
Cold drizzle reigns.
Funnel clouds
cyclone
monsoon
hurricane
typhoon--
bursting through
atmospheric membranes.
We can be moody
boasting large volumes
but revealing far-less mass.
Passively aggressive--
boasting less volume
but revealing a lot of mass.
We are clouds,
changeless-ever-changing--
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds.
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 8:38 AM UTC
I love you
I wouldn't hold back the only undeniable thought I would speak to you
even when we will return to dust one day
even if the nimbostratus swallow the sky
even if the ocean leave the tides
I cross my heart
in you i see infinite celestial-ity
And for that -
I loved you
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
It's raining every day
The skies used to be so clear
Beautiful in every way
Now they're clouded with fear
Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 8:16 PM UTC
the lava-blended departure of the sun is not metaphysics,
but a pinpoint target into human hearts,
both empirical and whimsical,
both light out of my ultraviolet perspective and the asphalt hurricanes of my cortex
~
bursting to the window,
it BUCKLED.
she battled the nimbostratus with 7.4 billion souls on her solar-flaring side;
I sat idly by, desperately attempting to cool my tea and fight the demons on my shoulder.
The battle was a chainsaw pitted against a watermelon,
a senseless,
lopsided conflict.
(is the deck stacked or
are my shoulders only temporarily
disfigured?)
despite cinder block extremities,
my skin is still more mesh than concrete;
these summer nights were meant for picket signs
and bare feet.
as to perceive image without light,
I swam against a salty, magnificent current.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
She is the cloud
Where my befouled soul goes up to
Only to be cleanse
-
To make me feel better
After the grueling fight under the sun
Trying to live
Oct 9, 2020
Oct 9, 2020 at 12:54 AM UTC