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ryn Oct 2014
Brittle dry earth beaming with longing,
For wet kisses from heavy heavens' door,
In soothing rain, finds the heart’s belonging,
Releasing the sweetest aroma...petrichor.

The mist of warm moist wafting playfully,
Kissing and engulfing in a subtle unworldly spin...
A feeling ensnared by the clutches of fond remembrance.
Like the cadence of your breaths upon my parched skin...


A taste of your last dance on my fervent lips,
Awoken with each drop, still makes me thirst,
I lift my head, entranced by memory’s grips,
Craving you, again to make my heart burst.

Here again...two drenched hearts encased in glass,
Latent spectres melded together as they did before,
Promises wrapped and bound to the gaits of the other,
In eternal dance, laced with everlasting redolent petrichor...


Dajena M
**rhymesmith
Another collaboration of thoughts between lovers of a natural phenom.
Shout out to Ms. D. for the magic hidden within her mind, heart and written word. Thank you for another opportunity... Enjoyed it so...
So two down, 8 more to go! ;)

Hope you enjoy this, beautiful people of the universe!
Gutter Grimer Oct 2018
Dripping in and out
A framed landscape
Of seasons
Permeated on your porch
Blooming in their decay
Sulfur would smell
As sweet as summer
Within these picket pillars
After living a life in praise of sessioning
I'm left with an amalgamation of memories,
A blur of nights had and days that merge into
one; and I wonder whether I cradle that memory
too deeply, isn't it what I am‽
I remember thinking its infinity
so long ago, tripping into eternity,
Feeling a moment engulf the universe
in knowing I am free to remember this
anytime, anywhere. I worry about
whether a life spent sessioning
is for me, if these memories
aren't beyond me, and if
this questioning only
makes the present
burn as slowly.
Can anybody see the past within me‽
Cyan is the new white, and this prison
is finally comfortable. At last, I smell that stone ichor
as the rain brings it home; left memory, right alone.
Bipasha Dutt Jan 2018
first rain on dry earth
Petrichor fills atmosphere
with a mild perfume
My first haiku
leave the lights on
and kiss the dance
of the seven veils
upon my windowsill
or leave me now
with the abject quiet
that the scythe
and sickle sound

i’m so used to being
in love with you
but the world is ever dark
and we sleep
in separate rooms
Rachel Rode Jun 2018
Black asphalt

Damp bicycle tires

Sparkling trees

The whole of the street scene is blurry and softened

As though covered in a layer of oil paint

The barefoot laughing, no-longer-dry-mouthed children are dancing in backyards

Kicking up mud and dirt with reckless abandon

We dream of moments like these

So soft they live on in memories  

Like down feathers on strong wide wings

Sweet-smelling, heather-scented moments

These moments of gentle, dawn-colored rain

Can you feel how your withered heart opens up?

It's ready to heal
from afternoon thunderstorms
while the sun still shines
and the sky crackles
a hypnotic lullaby
Wellspring Oct 2018
It begins with the ominous clouds that roil and billow over the sky.
Then they darken:
Soft whites...
Seductive greys...
All the way to the purple black that haunts the skies on the cusp of a winter night.

The smell that follows this sinister nebula of vapor hanging over your head is that of life bringing relief.
The smell of dry earth mingling with that of the fresh water above reminds one of summer breezes, freedom and relaxation.

The cool but warm drops of moisture start gently stroking your shoulders and arms.
The strength increases, forcing you to squint as you take in the beautiful composition of nature above.

Soon you're covering your head as the rain pelts down and you race for shelter.
The puddles appearing on the floor disrupted by the matter consistently falling into them.

You peer into the world, completely changed, as you visibility decreases and smile, the metallic twangs to the rain hitting the patio roof fill your ears and soul with its rhythm and music.
I LOVE the rain.
Kai May 6
from sweet morning showers
to powerful thunderstorms
rain puts me in a daze

I could stand all day in the rain
wet and shaking but happy
down in my bones it'll soak

breathing in the petrichor
and watching it gather in puddles
as the sky cries its tears

nothing in this world
could stop my foggy mind
from watching beautiful rain fall
It rained today glittering in the blue tinted light of morning. I was enraptured by it yet again. I just love rain so much. I just want to grab some tea and sit watching it all day.
the dank soil tightened
scent of relief after rain
sunset burned like sighs
as the sky turns to dark blue
rain comes splashing through his eyes
I remember that day
Sitting by the river
in your arms

The petals from the cherry blossom tree
fell into the flowing water

You made a promise that you will never let me go
Even when raindrops fall in my soul
Even when the storms stir my sea
You will never let me go
You will guide me to the rainbow
And the sweet smell after the rain
This was your petrichor petal promise

Then that day
When raindrops fell down in my soul
You left me alone...
And broke your petrichor petal promise



Now I sit by the same old river
that has the same flowing water
and the same cherry blossoms
But I was not in your arms

I then made my own
petrichor petal promises

That I won't fall so easily
Like the petals of the cherry blossom tree
I will continue to flow
Even when raindrops fall
I will guide myself to the rainbow
And the sweet smell of rain after the storm
The petrichor after the sorrow

These are my petrichor petal promises
to myself
Petrichor: The sweet smell after rain...Day 5 of the month long poetry challenge
Dike Aduluso Dec 2018
There was once a drought that thundered through the land
It stormed from north to south sparing neither head nor hand
It came on the heels of may, to rob fields of their right
Giving hunger to day then taking respite from night

Sun came and moon thereafter, time and time again
Yet the skies yielded no answer to the outcry of men
‘Cause fortune did reject the farmer’s desperate plea
For sin of thankless neglect towards soil of sower’s glee

Clouds massed in mocking grey, winds whispered hopeful lies
Telling of a better day when we would hear the heavens’ cries
Such was the willful drought that ended harvest’s reign
Starving land of fruitful sprout till Mercy brought the rain

I should say no more of the gloom through days of old
But with words long withheld, tell of that which should be told.
Dayna Aug 23
In the city, it smelled good. the smell of smoke, smelled good. The smell of smog, smelled good, the Mexican food, smelled good, the smell of the heat, smelled good, and pinched my nose too.... But the petrichor smelled best. Because when it rained, it smelled like concrete. The concrete smelled good.
Prabhu Iyer Nov 2018
Drenched in the tears of distant clouds
comes calling a name, echoing
in the dunes of the heart;

There is nothing in a name...

Announcing of itself to a seeker
knelt on a hilltop,
burning in a bush,
of an essence beyond names;
Beyond the before and after;


... but the word, is something else.

Long the season of withering,
but deep in the night,
a fear grips the heart racing
to the rhythm of the dew
dripping down the tile;
'In the Beginning There was the Word and the Word was one with God...' John I.1
leah snyder Oct 2018
i step outside, the sky above gray as slate
petrichor seeping up through the grass,
engulfing my state of mind as i inhale
and guiding me into a place of hushed abstraction.

-l.s.
petrichor: the pleasant, earthy smell after rain

free verse
Timothy Aug 2017
Sweet Springtime blossoms bud and bloom again
     When all that Winter frost is done away
     Each nodding stem, each petal zephyrs sway
That’s laden with petrichor after rain.
Hard by the lea and meadow grass and grain
     Which toss about in breezes from clouds gray
     Along yon wold where creeks flow all astray
And ferns beneath old oaks trees bend and strain.

     O yet with gentle passing day and hour,
All emerald green trees resort their dress
Which one beholds with awe all eagerly;
     So bask in joy and gather up a flow’r,
Time now to cherish Spring in loveliness,
For soon cold Winter comes on greedily.
12 May 2017 7:50pm EDT
Layla Apr 2018
Rainy day
It sounds like blossom flowers
Remind grace for me
A perfect time to write you a poetry
Accompanied by rainfall and petrichor
With hot chocolate on my desk
And you in my pages
#rainy #love #petrichor #you
ryn Feb 2015
.
    It's here again...
   Heavy downpour...
   I inhaled the rain,
    cloying with petrichor.

      Standing at my window,
     looking out...
    Street lamps struggled aglow.
   People with brollies walking about.

   My eyes reached out to the heavens,
    tracing these glassy beads
      as they'd free fall...
        Falling by the sheets,
       the pattering hastens,
      periodically punctuated
     by the thunder's call.

     Mind is drifting and floating,
       intently listening to a
          million love wishes...
             Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...
           In light entrapped splashes.

         Raindrops descend and come,
         into my still life tonight...
          Won't you will me numb,
             with your chilly bite...

             Wide-eyed enamour...
            Catching a stray droplet or two.
             Riding the tail of a zephyr,
              finding a place where
                no trouble could ensue.

            An errant gust blew
           to meet with me.
          The refreshing moist
         meets my parted lips...
        Inhaling deep in this reverie...
       Into a sea of tranquillity,
        my mind slowly dips...

      Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...
      I would savour each and every one.
      If the moist wind came and caresses
     I would meet it in a tight embrace
   till the break of sun.

  What a sight...
   Almost surreal it seems...
      As the light from the surrounding
         lamps dances playfully...
        Dispersing and exploding into a
     barrage of shattered beams.
    Before it gets subdued in the drops
   caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...

   The drops would trickle
     and fall before merging,
      forming stranded puddles
       unable to flow...
        Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...
      An image...
     Borne out of a fantastic show.

    An image of beating hearts,
     overlapping one another...
       Speaking of consequential love
          and feelings so true
        Intertwined...
     in the promise of forever...
  Slowly retrieving itself into an...


  image of you...
Martial Teacher Jan 2018
I'll sleep one step closer
When the ticking clock
Pauses in eternity
All sound turns into silence
The smell of petrichor
The holy melody
Breathes it's last tune.

The world will die alone
Singing it's song of curruption
People get silenced for speaking too soon
The wise men stay silent
And the poor speak the truth.

I will die lonely
At least i can keep my humanity
Untainted by hands seeped in sin
The bitter taste of iron
The sweet scent as the body grows cold
And i will then see the beauty
In white who i long for.

I will die lonely
While the world dies on itself
Victims of corruption
Loss of innocence
Voices of the twisted
Lurk through the crimson shadows
Where the big bad wolf
Calls all the shots
Eenie meenie miney mo
Which poor lamb will be slaughtered next?

The world will die alone
I will die lonely.
Bianca Reyes Apr 2018
I have been living within storms
But it's over at last
Petrichor forms
I have fallen for April weather
With sunflower eyes
The warmest of smiles
April sounds like Spring
Sounds just like you
I never thought of life
Being easy as it is now
All rights reserved under Bianca Reyes
Dominique Oct 2018
Droplets tap the dusty windows
Tipping pleasure on the pane
Dribbles every time the wind blows
Prophesize a hurricane

Kisses linger on the backseat
Desperate to delight in more
Suffocated by the heat, but
When it rains, it starts to pour

Panic storm that quickly closes
Smashing waves upon the sand
Tension tearing up the roses
Stuttered poems, shaking hands

Though the pressure keeps you floating
And the ocean licks its shore
There's no way of sugarcoating
Once it rains, it has to pour

Stick a finger in your ceiling
Let the plants hang onto youth
Sunday jazz, petrichor feeling
Hear it tripping on the roof
Smell it shifting all around you
Leaking through your drying veins
Leave your stagnant dragonfly blue
Open up into the rain

When it rains, it pours
I'll blossom being yours

Downpour cleans the ***** traffic
Rippling madly down the drain
Paints the artist something graphic
While he's waiting for the train

Laughter echoes in the morning
Licking soil and clouds to raw
From the vision that's been dawning
Once you rain, it has to pour

Spitting bombshells pelt your raincoat
Tears in quiet pools of green
Holes inside your getaway boat
Water's sweet but can be mean

You've avoided all the warfare
But the stars rampage for more
Douse the thin comfort you still wear
Once it rains, it starts to pour

Stick a finger in your ceiling
Give the plants a thirsty truth
Fairy lights and freedom feeling
Tunes of our torrential youth
Smell it changing all around you
Bursting through the shrivelled veins
Leave your crippled summertime hue
Open up into the rain

When it rains, it pours,
I'll bloom so much being yours
We're a perfect storm, I guess
Fire has been stopped with less

When it rains it has to pour.
Rain brings change when we most need it
Helena Dec 2018
mud-
stuck in the sole-ridges.
burning sun in amber petrichor
you suddenly feel infinite
skipping, humming
(****** puddle,suicide note)
and then my body underneath you
in plasma, in blister, in blood.
never let me drown
(you keep me burning on)
i´m mud
subtly stuck in
your rubber bridges.

started singing with the kids in park
i swore i could hear you screaming
(i was)

my love, my love
your footsteps break my silence
Nico Julleza Jul 2017
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
Caribbean blue sail's a galaxy
rivers gushing, mumbling for an eternity
reflections of Love forms to thee

Suddenly silence adumbrate
aesthete, A lustful tint of Peruvian trees
petrichor whiffs of earth's virginity

A syzygy that I can't apprehend
but, can fully appreciate its denouement
rebirth of once I fell in love been

Listen to its sotto voce ruffling
preterlabent streams, resplendent hymns
humming grasses cues to sing

Upon the mountain tops hidden
rocks of geos sighting a treasure within
only to discover lore’s of forbidden

Cascading trees whispered a cold
a journey I never knew how to go as told
trap between floras along the road

Propinquity of my eyes closing thin
soul reserved for death, till breath hops in
trodden a land ****** for me to begin

A minstrel with hands like marbles
strung a fiddle of tessellated symphonies
open wonders the eyes never seen

A bouquet of amaranth revealed
the longing heart found someone of new
sighs my feelings and away I strew
#Love #Wonders #Colors # Nature

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
I wanted to model my life after a rainstorm:

To embody the excitement and freshness and screaming vitality
of a torrential rain on a hot summer day
To show off my clouds and shout out with thunder
My worries and sorrows, my failures and fears.
To laugh and cry and run and shriek
With windstorms and hailstorms and post-summer sleet.

But most of all,
I wanted to flash through people's lives like lightning
So, so bright and unexpected and beautiful and alive
That they held their breath and scanned the skies
For just one more crackle of energy and excitement
That makes them question their mundane grey lives.

If nothing else, I'll be petrichor
The soft, sweet reminder of new life to come.
That puts a smile on people's faces
As they, for once, stop, and breathe,
And remember that
They, too,
Are
Alive.
Iris Proctor Jan 2018
For half a revolution she spends her days
in caliginous caverns
where worms like silver thread
weave through moistened walls.
Water, endless dripping,
howling, whining, stalagmite fangs.

It began with a stranger,
shrouded with shadows.
Petrichor breath,
and beetle black eyes,
twisted root fingers,
and scattered seeds.

It was lonely at first,
death and loss and
weary wayfarers with tired souls.
An estranged husband,
a trio of rumbling growls,
and the lonesome echo of her own footsteps.

Waiting for a someday,
that will never come,
her titles, a mantra,
repeat in her head;
daughter, lover, mother and wife,
stealer of souls and giver of life.

So when the daffodils bud,
and the world awakens,
when she blinks through sunshine
and steps into the light,
she holds her head high.
She is Queen of the Underworld,
bolder than before,
she will evade their pity,
and transcend them all.
Wordsmith Dec 2018
Particles collate, clouds gather
An uprising it seems, stronger together
Resolute it stands, till it holds no further
As any body collapses, under mounting pressure

Little drops to torrential downpour
The inconvenience it brings, just what we abhor
Struggle we must with virtuous patience
If we are to enjoy befallen petrichor

Trees are fed, flowers bloom
From this garden, brilliance loom
As all things present, this too is transient
A reality so poignant, about an existence impermanent

Leaves frail, flowers wither
Consumed by soil from which it consumed
No such thing as eternal bliss
Such are the laws of our symbiosis

We arrive from dust and depart as stench
A reality from which, we shouldn't flinch
As we gaze into a horizon so eternal
All we have, are moments so ephemeral
“The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.” ― Alan Wilson Watts

"We arrive from dust and depart as stench" - Words not my own. Can't rem where I picked it up from
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