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"raincloud" poems
sometimes you're the sun on a bright and sunny day and sometimes you're a raincloud on a gloomy day but nonetheless they are both needed for flowers to grow under your feet I've seen the worst of your thunderstorms and the best of your radiant days where you shine the brightest and I choose both because I love you nonetheless and I will be the rainbow after your storm and the stars that will keep you company at night
0
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
mood
In the twilight zephyrs under milky way skies I stroll beside my peacock plumed God Along the banks of the Yamuna river with captivating charm He teaches me the Language of Love Honeybees buzz around us even though the coral pink sun has melted into a puddle of nectar at His silken lotus Feet and all the flowers have folded their drowsy petals raven heavens raise their ebony veils and a chorus of rhapsodic stars chant Krishna's glorious name I feel His raincloud blue face close to mine lightning from His eyes strikes my Soul ...and We dance... A trillion psychedelic umbrellas whirling, dazzling Sufi circles beneath the Golden parasol of God's enormous Love     Share/Save
0
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
God's Consort
I’m your favorite kind of rain That goes down a drain slowly like I can Mimic your movements Simply by asking you how you feel Now, it doesn’t rain your favorite all the time Most of the time I get this extra burden But you’re my umbrella that’s keeping me dry From stress, anger and despair Pouring out from a raincloud called,  “Thing’s I don’t want to face today” Let it pour I know you’ll cover me from my problems As long as I hold you up from yours
0
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 11:20 PM UTC
Umbrella
“You’re going to do it my way.” And that is what’s wrong with the entire education system in the United States. From a very early age, we’re taught that there’s only one way to do things. Only one way to learn to read, to write, to ride a bike. Everything must be done at a certain age. Not earlier, not later. And it all must be done one way. I remember when I was taught how to write, that was probably the worst year of my life. There are plenty of adults I know now that can’t write half as well as I did then. But my teacher criticized and marked me down for each little mistake, and by the end of the year, when report cards came out, I got a check mark for not being as neat and beautiful as she thought I should be. But who is to tell an eight-year old that her hand writing is bad. That the loops at the ends of her a’s are wrong, after all she’s just being creative. Every year the teachers give the whole “poetry is about being creative and expressing how you feel” speech. Well do you want to know how I really feel. I feel like that unit is a load of crap. Because right after they tell you all about that, they give you directions on how you have to write a poem, counting out each individual syllable and making them rhyme. But I want things not to rhyme, I want to make someone cry by rhyming sunshine with raincloud and summer with winter and smile with tear. I want each stanza, wait, why should I even use stanzas if I don’t need them? I can have a million lines if I wanted because that’s what poetry is. And art doesn’t have to be in the lines of the paper. Art isn’t meant to be taught, it’s meant to be experienced, learned, felt, made. Just because they colors don’t seem to “complement” or “represent” or “contrastment”. I’ll distemper you, too bad I don’t know what that means because I didn’t pay attention in your class. And they teach you to do everything in your head, so as not to speak your mind, so when you get older you can keep opinions to yourself and fall below a power that is supposed to be above you. There’s a problem with education. It’s that teachers have been taught the same thing they teach us without trying to change a thing.
0
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 9:02 PM UTC
The problem with education
“You’re going to do it my way.” And that is what’s wrong with the entire education system in the United States. From a very early age, we’re taught that there’s only one way to do things. Only one way to learn to read, to write, to ride a bike. Everything must be done at a certain age. Not earlier, not later. And it all must be done one way. I remember when I was taught how to write, that was probably the worst year of my life. There are plenty of adults I know now that can’t write half as well as I did then. But my teacher criticized and marked me down for each little mistake, and by the end of the year, when report cards came out, I got a check mark for not being as neat and beautiful as she thought I should be. But who is to tell an eight-year old that her hand writing is bad. That the loops at the ends of her a’s are wrong, after all she’s just being creative. Every year the teachers give the whole “poetry is about being creative and expressing how you feel” speech. Well do you want to know how I really feel. I feel like that unit is a load of crap. Because right after they tell you all about that, they give you directions on how you have to write a poem, counting out each individual syllable and making them rhyme. But I want things not to rhyme, I want to make someone cry by rhyming sunshine with raincloud and summer with winter and smile with tear. I want each stanza, wait, why should I even use stanzas if I don’t need them? I can have a million lines if I wanted because that’s what poetry is. And art doesn’t have to be in the lines of the paper. Art isn’t meant to be taught, it’s meant to be experienced, learned, felt, made. Just because they colors don’t seem to “complement” or “represent” or “contrastment”. I’ll distemper you, too bad I don’t know what that means because I didn’t pay attention in your class. And they teach you to do everything in your head, so as not to speak your mind, so when you get older you can keep opinions to yourself and fall below a power that is supposed to be above you. There’s a problem with education. It’s that teachers have been taught the same thing they teach us without trying to change a thing.
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9
Within the lotus pink petals of my tear soaked ***** He has hidden His splendor Under a raincloud the color of His peacock skin camouflaged He waits Darling Giridhari I have driven the tenacious, evil bats of hatred, envy, anger and greed from the tall steel towers, belfry of my mind Nectarine incense of prayer and contemplation on You burns day and night on the altar of my penitent heart Ceaselessly my breath does not hesitate to chant Your divine name From these eyes the Yamuna river pours and floods its banks while I wait for You to dance with me Every season is an endless Winter without your warm Spring embrace snow drifts pursue and threaten to bury the tender shoots of love Hurry Hari Krishna pull this poison cupid's arrow from Your devotee's smitten heart
0
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
Eternal Rendezvous
Wind and air. Sun and cloud. Sound of despair. Rainclouds. Dilemma. Raincloud. My grandma. Raincloud loud. Sadness and empathy. Rainclouds. All for my granny and me. I'm proud.
0
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
Rainclouds
I don't want you to miss me Like an arm or a lung. I would miss you like that If you hated me, if you were gone, And maybe you'd feel The same. But away as you are Reluctantly, Briefly, In love and in faith, I hope you miss me smaller, Lighter, Warmer. I want missing me to go with you wherever you are Not like a raincloud or a looming shadow But like Like a small love note A little slip of paper, almost inconsequential, Something you see and smile and think, "I'll keep this." Something you fold up small and slide into the bottom of your coat pocket And fiddle with whenever you're bored or lonely And maybe sometimes you forget it, maybe it doesn't always catch your notice But then the wind blows and in the cold you push your hands Deep into those pockets And your fingers brush the thought of me and how I love you And a smile spreads across your face. Maybe you take it out and look it over, And then decide to put it back so that can happen All over again. I want you to miss me like that. I want it to be something sweet and small, something that can travel with you And never weigh you down. It's true that I think of you whenever I am sat in silence for more than a moment And I do the same sort of thing Maybe too often, maybe too fondly. Maybe my little love note would be creased and worn And rubbed a little blurry from the pads of my fingers tracing your words. But nonetheless You are so easy to take along with me The thought of you so warm and comforting and Light But strong. I want that for you. I want to be easy to hold So that maybe you will never Let me go.
0
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 4:27 PM UTC
Miss Me Small
I don't want you to miss me Like an arm or a lung. I would miss you like that If you hated me, if you were gone, And maybe you'd feel The same. But away as you are Reluctantly, Briefly, In love and in faith, I hope you miss me smaller, Lighter, Warmer. I want missing me to go with you wherever you are Not like a raincloud or a looming shadow But like Like a small love note A little slip of paper, almost inconsequential, Something you see and smile and think, "I'll keep this." Something you fold up small and slide into the bottom of your coat pocket And fiddle with whenever you're bored or lonely And maybe sometimes you forget it, maybe it doesn't always catch your notice But then the wind blows and in the cold you push your hands Deep into those pockets And your fingers brush the thought of me and how I love you And a smile spreads across your face. Maybe you take it out and look it over, And then decide to put it back so that can happen All over again. I want you to miss me like that. I want it to be something sweet and small, something that can travel with you And never weigh you down. It's true that I think of you whenever I am sat in silence for more than a moment And I do the same sort of thing Maybe too often, maybe too fondly. Maybe my little love note would be creased and worn And rubbed a little blurry from the pads of my fingers tracing your words. But nonetheless You are so easy to take along with me The thought of you so warm and comforting and Light But strong. I want that for you. I want to be easy to hold So that maybe you will never Let me go.
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47
I wake from dreams of you like waves of the ocean that break upon the shore a persistent feeling of dissatisfaction hovers quietly above me making no sound but always falling always dripping always coating me so that every damp footstep I leave behind reminds me it will never leave me alone the wetness from my raincloud and the water from the ocean of my dreams become the same liquid that permeates my being interchangeable undistinguishable from one another tell me - why do I dream of disappointment?
0
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 2:00 PM UTC
ONE AND THE SAME
Have you seen her? That raincloud girl? Who’s father beat like thunder With words that cut like lightning Who’s sunshine mother warmed all But never stopped the storm from coming. Have you seen her? That handmedown girl? Passed from one family to another With constant conflicting opinions And a borrowed sense of conviction That never quite fit her right. Have you seen her? That sad little girl? Who grew up believing in faerie-tales With faith in every misspoken sentence Who waits on every text message Despite the repeating heartbreaking goodbyes. Have you seen her? That copycat girl? Who somehow never changes With her fragile coat of innocence Who looks like me in mirrors But she will never be again.
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Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 10:43 PM UTC
Lovely Lady Lost
I no longer dance under a raincloud of poems but if you let me, I’ll pull you under every tiny bit of cloud I find and we can dance under them; our sadness, condensing into raindrops — our façade, melting with the petrichor — as if a downpour of words will wash away the bruises and scars and baptize our soul anew. a clean slate; like the soil after the storm, like leaf patterns that know happiness like a summer day, reborn.
0
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 10:26 PM UTC
Rainclouds
a mouth full of words that squirm like earthworms dug from a drizzly weather place in April – that month is for scraped knees & children’s toys not the name of a widow I once knew, she killed herself trying to remember the adolescent she was kicking dirt from below a fence she couldn’t climb and I was too large to follow her descent so I still spit my larvae onto her back lawn & become a raincloud make more to cradle her bulbs left lynched by roots.
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Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
earthworms
i try not to write poetry with your name in mind because maybe im afraid of getting optimistic maybe hopeful is too much of a burden to carry around and staying angry is more safe than all of the colors i feel when i look you in the eyes and believe me baby- sorry- believe me, i avert your gaze with probable cause its easier to hate you than to hate our odds and the comfort i feel when you say my name like a whisper like a prayer like a moment for me alone its easier to keep this pessimistic mindset because i think, even as a raincloud, i can admit if i describe the way my hands shake when you touch me i will never be able to silence myself its easier to keep all of this bottled up and sent out to sea with no recipient than to reach across the table and break the silent rules we never put into permanence believe me, it's easier to avert your gaze than to confront my feelings because you know how i feel about confrontation i can sleep surrounded by white noise and i'll still have said too much because every time you slip up i feel it in my chest and maybe i can admit that i dream about the eye contact i avoid without destroying the way we both hold our breath around eachother i dream about you hating these urges the same way i do i dream about you wanting me and your sacrilegious mindset and maybe if i fall asleep sober enough in that dream i can find a way to reach across the table and write optimistic poetry about how it feels to break the rules
0
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 8:26 PM UTC
all im asking for is one minute
We are naturally wary of different Our anticipatory Participation in fear Blinds us from the signs That classification Of the population Fuels separation In our great nation And the degradation Of our education Through miscommunication Due to deprivation Of alleviation As far as the segregation Taking its formation In our imagination? These bounds we set To set us apart Take hold in heart Because we impart The notion of racism Through our pride Proud to be black Proud to be white Proud to be Whatever it is that is me. I’m sure it is right Though I did not choose No I wasn’t trusted with choice I wasn’t given an option No opinion to voice I came as I am I came as man With no color in mind Nor hate in heart A patch of untrodden Still smoothed soft snowflakes Unscathed by the treads Of worn down soles. No limits exist To whom They were never shown Never taught Through words or by deed Never separated Through race or creed Disparity through diversification Norms forming cult cultures Secluded islands of identifiers Imprisoned in our tradition Caught up in the familial familiarity Of being a drop in a raincloud Growing heavier each summer day Until the burden bursts Out in thunderous roar. And yet the race will remain Runners at their mark Pushing to get ahead of the pack Forgetting there is no finish-line Since it was never a race at all.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
The Human Race
A life began from a speeding van weightless, the day has started across the street in an intersection a clear view from above as you float in a feather-like way with an umbrella to make your way you glide, and soar to where the winds take you.Faraway.. But the higher you soar the deeper you fall fall like a drop of rain from a raincloud of a storm and sink like a stone a descent into the maelstrom at the end of days you'll ask yourself who will save you?
0
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 7:45 AM UTC
Nemo
In deep raincloud days and the nights we can’t sleep, I remember the night of July 15th. In worlds we didn’t drift like sailboats at sea, Under blankets it’s your arms that cradle me. Maybe someday you’ll look into my eyes with love, Like you used to, giving kisses instead of a shove. Or maybe these chords will mean nothing someday, As you go with the wind into a distant bay. Sweet harbor, sweet harbor, fading with time. I was lashed to your deck, and you tied to mine. The sunshine was fleeting, the gray had been sent, But it all changed so quickly, maybe it will again
0
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
Harbor
You're vapor that Claws at people waves red flags that say send help Watch them walk by They always get tired of you You get lonely of them You cross them off your list Crosses are your talent Wait awhile to become a raincloud
0
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC
Raincloud
drip        drip                drip The sky is blue they say       drip drip       drip My soul is full of rain I feel it's steady drum I hear it's quiet sigh The water clears my eyes. No longer am I blind. I see this land of misery, The way it's meant to be. Don't want to feel the sun again, For my soul is filled with rain. Go and play in your sun, Don't mind me, have fun! I'm feeling kinda dreary, so I'll drip and drip and      drip and drip and I don't want to be a desert, I don't want to be a flood. I was made to be a raincloud, Dripping just because. Don't want to see the sun again, My soul is filled with rain. I'll drip and drip and drip and drip and with each drop I'll sing. drip     drip drip
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Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 12:05 PM UTC
Raincloud
I looked at her and I whispered I'm not just sad I'm lonely in the most crowded rooms and broken because the glue won't hold and i hate passing mirrors because my inside shows on the out when I look into the glass She stared at me and simply said "You don't look depressed" I looked up and laughed "I'm sorry, Did I forget my raincloud today?"
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Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
My raincloud
every raincloud a challenge, a puddly smile
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
Eighty Percent Chance
a raincloud sits above my head from time to time i find it hard to brave these dismal skies. but then you come along, as you do. with a light behind your eyes a fire in your soul and you build me up so much so, i no longer feel small. my greatest friend, that is why when the going gets tough and the world caves in you come along, as you do and then i remember what it means to feel loved.
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Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 10:39 AM UTC
For V.
I find your chest in the clouds Your torso is made of cumulonimbus For you are as powerful as the strongest raincloud. Your eyes are created with moonbeams And I will soon have your hands in the stars. The wind will create your body and push it, Tight, forming to mine. Your voice is not the thunder, or wind But the rich hum of the smoldering sun, Warm, intense. Your footsteps come closer, quickly Softly stepping as that same sun through the clouds. You are the earth and the atmosphere You live in yellow grass and rain (For see, that's the landscape inside me) The breeze through these hills is the breath from your heart And when it touches me, I know it can only be you.
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Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 12:55 PM UTC
you are the earth
adoring you is effortless so easy and free how I wish everyone can experience love to be. first conversation brewed into a raincloud of thoughts. and ideas made us a stream, and before I knew it, the stream carved out the side of a canyon and it happened all underneath the glowing moon that was your compassion that became a river so large that only your love of me could fill it the chill in the air was my reservations but before I knew it my heart turned into some sort of wild salmon swimming away from me!
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Apr 13, 2010
Apr 13, 2010 at 10:13 PM UTC
my love
A blank page                                                                     Plain and perfect                                                                 No mistakes-No anything                                                 Yet unable to fight                                                               inevitable change Smears of red and graphite difference from blanche to raincloud to blood Tears stain clear the thoughts of a hope that cannot perish by cause of anything mortal Young silent scream void of identity spills like the crimson of martyrs chance to make a change forever trapped inside that page no matter the cause of perile Your sight does not fail you so you take pity open your heart from the ironbox of petrified time and share the fear to save my sanity A saturated page purely flawed mistakes in everything overtaken in the fight by inevitable change smudges of red and graphite difference blanche and raincloud and blood clear coat of tears that saved the thoughts of a hope that cannot perish
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Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 1:06 AM UTC
Thoughts of a Hope
good bad girl. fight like a boy. tsunami driftwood. raincloud no silver lining, where lightning strikestwice. bare feet hot cement. kidnapped girl in the polaroid. let me check my schedule. curiosity...cat. eggshells. prescription candy. thru the looking glass. holden red hunting cap. tyler/jack. why ophelia never learned to swim. hold my scissorhands. Drucilla. natural disaster. scartissue love tattoo addiction pain dissociation association. carrie bradshaw's evil twin. holly-go-lightly meets courtney love. wednesday adams grows up. marla singer's song. bad dreamer. caufield's wet dream, cobain sympatico. makes sid viscious look tame, e. edward grey esq.& miss. holloway synthesis. the white rabbit. igby. anti-heroine, captain jack's sparrow. temptation/seduction/truth cliffhanger. ticking sleep bomb, roman candle(lit). spilled milk guilt. poppy field dreamer. cafeconleche. waternymph/siren/pixie, hideandseeker. riotgrrlchild. fallen angel-demons beware. blindfoldedandbound,if swallowed contact doctor immediately. good veins. contagious, mixedbreed badmanners. moodswinger. shadowboxer. wrong side of the tracks. superlowrisepunkass. theonemamawarnedyouabout, chaoscalamity&charisma;, irresiatible&incorrigible;, neverlearnedmy lesson. kneehighs and runners thighs. handlewithcare. klepto-crinalin and hypno-medicine, tomboy/schoolgirl. skeptickeyebrow. dirty-flirty. cherrybombpocketpacker, hardcandy. sociopathsister. victim of my own past. hunter/hunted. bootstrap-trapped. is that my blood? just a minute while i reinvent myself. i’d like to meet: everyone i have forgotten and everyone who has forgotten me
0
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
about me: ignored into existence
good bad girl. fight like a boy. tsunami driftwood. raincloud no silver lining, where lightning strikestwice. bare feet hot cement. kidnapped girl in the polaroid. let me check my schedule. curiosity...cat. eggshells. prescription candy. thru the looking glass. holden red hunting cap. tyler/jack. why ophelia never learned to swim. hold my scissorhands. Drucilla. natural disaster. scartissue love tattoo addiction pain dissociation association. carrie bradshaw's evil twin. holly-go-lightly meets courtney love. wednesday adams grows up. marla singer's song. bad dreamer. caufield's wet dream, cobain sympatico. makes sid viscious look tame, e. edward grey esq.& miss. holloway synthesis. the white rabbit. igby. anti-heroine, captain jack's sparrow. temptation/seduction/truth cliffhanger. ticking sleep bomb, roman candle(lit). spilled milk guilt. poppy field dreamer. cafeconleche. waternymph/siren/pixie, hideandseeker. riotgrrlchild. fallen angel-demons beware. blindfoldedandbound,if swallowed contact doctor immediately. good veins. contagious, mixedbreed badmanners. moodswinger. shadowboxer. wrong side of the tracks. superlowrisepunkass. theonemamawarnedyouabout, chaoscalamity&charisma;, irresiatible&incorrigible;, neverlearnedmy lesson. kneehighs and runners thighs. handlewithcare. klepto-crinalin and hypno-medicine, tomboy/schoolgirl. skeptickeyebrow. dirty-flirty. cherrybombpocketpacker, hardcandy. sociopathsister. victim of my own past. hunter/hunted. bootstrap-trapped. is that my blood? just a minute while i reinvent myself. i’d like to meet: everyone i have forgotten and everyone who has forgotten me
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3
i said, "do i disgust you or am i the reason you wake up in the morning?" with raincloud eyes and bony, bony fists you said, "i want to circle the bruises around your eyes and patch you up in a styrofoam box and lay you out to dry" because you dream of me building sandcastles on the beaches of your heart and making my home in the palms of your hands "i want to sit on the sun but oh! it'll burn me up." (a.m.c.)
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
{styrofoam box}