"rainfalls" poems
Her breath is the lavish humidity
She sings with the symphonies of crickets
Her tears are delicate rainfalls, washing the silence
Her breathing is the wind that shivers the palm trees
She calls out to you
Wraps you in Her arms
Cleanses you,
Heals you
She is serene
She is abundant
She is warmth
She is Love
Mother Bali, watch over me always
Deliver me Home
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
WHAT A POEM SHOULD BE
*A
Poem
Should
Be
Devoid
Of sentiments
Should be
Dark as the Night
Or
Clear as the day,*
**A
Poem
Should speak
Attention
And
Not seek attention
Should be
Bright as the culminating cloud
Or
Dark as the emanating nights**
*A
Poem should not seek, but speak
Should be
Free as the Moon moves the earth
A
Poem should
Be
Free, but not stale
Should be
True, but not forced*
**A Poem
Should not seek,
But speak
Should
Be
Vast as Rainfall
And yet
Calm as Dew falls**
*A
Poem
Could be
Violent,
But mean no harm,
Could be hateful,
But mean no hate*
**A
poem
Should
Be bright as SUNSHINE,
Should be
Vast as Rainfall,
Yet
Calm as Dew falls
A Poem
Should not seek attention
But
Speak attention!!**
*Should be
Vast as
Rainfall*
**Should
Be
Vast
As
Rainfalls**
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
The Babylonian hanging gardens is vanished
maybe the fairies tucked it away.
Lo the clouds swim on your dry leaves, rainfalls
hum on the way!
Jun 21, 2021
Jun 21, 2021 at 10:57 AM UTC
My Harvest, my golden ever-lasting grain,
My bird-winged heart who soars above this dull terrain.
My Heart, my love, my lasting life's refrain.
Oh breath, beat on and overcome this pain.
My crop of gold, my one true wish, my meaning as foretold.
My true and constant one, whose only hand I hold.
My lonely one, my ring'ed one, whose story is not told.
Oh heart, bear up and carry me to the fold.
My only at my leaving one
My dark nights soothing sun
My comfort tales by her are spun
My daily works, my widowed one
Let all the suns rays warm her twice,
Let rainfalls wealth melt her winters ice,
Let all my mossy paths caress her feet,
Until the two of us re-meet.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 3:43 AM UTC
I remember you
as the drop of rainfalls
start tearing from the dark sky
as the smell of the cold water
start spreading all over the ground
as the flowers start dropping
some particles of fading dew
I remember you
in the middle of bonfire
in the back of my thin footprints
in the snowflakes that stick on the pale trees
and the icy ground of a cold winter
I remember you
like the field of green grass
beneath the ray of sun
like the warm breeze in a spring day
like the bunch of sunflowers
that you drive along the path
and they turn around to see your smile
I remember you
in the happiest moment and the darkest hour
But you will never remember me
and I will never be
the rain, snowflakes or the sunflowers
that you gaze upon so longingly
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 9:51 AM UTC
Love is like the seasons that come every year
We enjoy them dearly when they are here
But seasons change and love does too
But who would've thought your love would leave me
When those fall leaves fell from the trees
Who would've thought this would be my coldest winter because you aren't here with me
Who would've thought those spring rainfalls
would wash away those feelings you use to have
Who would've thought that summer wind would blow you past
Me I was the one you were in love with
But like a heat wave in the month of June
The Sun dried your love up for me too soon
3 1/2 years and what I assumed forever left
Changed so quickly like the seasons in the year
Now those spring raindrops are my tears
Now those cold winters are the coolness of my heart
And the leaves that fall from the trees are
the pieces of my heart
The seasons change and your feelings did too
Why can't you be in love with just as I am with you
I hope when the seasons change again that your feelings do too
Because I can't go through another change of seasons
Without enjoying the weather with you.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
AN OVI/VICTORIA'S POEM
COLLABORATION
What brings an undaunted Warrior down on his knees?"
**It is a Woman,
A woman's tears can pierce into the most rigid of souls.
It is her charms and calls
that falls like splendors on morning leaves.
Her sway and bounce, that sends shivers into the hearts.**
*Such are the nights
she envelopes him in a tailwind,
both of them buoyed
in his regard
of her every thing.
Quenched and drunk
on the essence
of love in action
happen the mornings when he
is the rising sun itself
that draws her
like a mist from the ocean.*
**And as the moon transverses the lone sky, searching for a mystery to peruse the earth with brooding glow,
So she glows her man into a brighter him.
She encloses within her, moments of illumination, that even the darkest of souls cannot quench.
Such are the days of her unending rainfalls, where she wets up the shallowest of earth's depths....
Intertwining between seasons and spheres.
Her heart is like the endlessness of the ocean,
Constantly drawing him with her hips into a wave of boundless journey.**
*And so it is
as it always was
through the ages of transience,
their enigma constant,
unending prevailed
against the steely, storming skies
of angst en masse
that would test loves mettle,
where true warriors, undaunted
rise above, arced
in kaleidoscopic triumph.*
**Ovi Odiete and Victoria©
All right reserved. 10/9/2016**
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
*I remember the first ingredients
to our lover's brew -
desire & passion
was the basics ingredients,
He already had the spice of
"want" & a dash of "need"
copiously he trailed rainfalls of kisses
down my body.
Until he reached my valley of milk & honey,
He opened me slowly, meticulously so- placing one finger inside as his tongue danced across my ********
Causing me to reach my hands down pulling his hair, trying to pull his head closer deeper as my body melted to him.
Contumaciously
He rejected my urgency...
reaching my hands he held both with just one of his own keeping me in place as he administered his lustful assault on my person, my mind froze as my body ****** hips first before he let go my hands then wrapping both hands around my thighs.
Holding me tightly while making me cry out his name over & over...
He knew I was ready, wet & sleek.
He's hard solid & ready but I rush to taste him he only allows me to for a second then he bends me over my *** facing his **** he doesn't enter me- he once more licks & ***** my ******** then my tongues my ***
Causing a new sensations...
right before my body explodes he slams into me swiftly, my moan dies as my cries of more rant the morning air.
He's moving so vigorously- blending sensual amounts of harmonic tones of his own moans and whimpers in my ear as he ****** harder but oh so gentle like he was a drummer & his throbbing **** a solid 10" hard hitting drum is now beating in & out of me,
He was so energetic without rules or reasoning to pleasuring me so immensely he never noticed the door bell ringed..
Oh well, my legs began to shake as he holds my hips he moves in- pushing deeper,
retracting slowly then again- he slams inside of me...
from behind me he pulls my hair while his other hands is placed on the small of my back, I'm convulsing like I'm having an epileptic reaction- my ******** rapture causes me to fall in a heap upon our bed.
These are the ingredients to our
Lover's Brew!
Always Me Ayeshah ®
Copyright ©
Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved ®*
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 2:25 PM UTC
Watching all of my imperfections and insecurities trickle down the drain
Along with dirt from sweat and water from the rain
Every ***** thought and wrongdoing being washed away forever
Until the next time I look in the mirror and try to run away from my past
Perspiration forms on my forehead the further I get from where I used to be
I try to build muscle by carrying the weight of what lies in front of me
My body exudes salt water while I play a pickup game with present times; trying to figure out which way to go and decide the best move to get by each defender
I only feel clean again after I take a shower
I shower at night to go to bed with a clean slate only to wake up in need of another
The morning shower opens my eyes to the obvious things I was previously blind to
I walk around in the sludge created by society as if my skin isn’t dark enough they feel the need to cover me in mud
Rainfalls of title educated tries to fix me up only the mud is too thick and I’m not exposing my true self yet
Until I get home to shower again
I feel like myself again after I take a shower
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
People said
Romanticizing is too dramatic
And sad poetries
Are kind of untold suicidal notes
And poets
Are too broken, bluer than a bruise
Blacker than old stretches
As miserable as a grayish dark cloudy sky
As heavy as the hazy rainfalls on a rooftop
Little know they realize
That words hurt
And sharp,
Like a knife twisted in a soul.
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
My life is like a poem;
And a pure sleep that lasts forever.
Ah, sleep-sleep that is more flamboyant than the stars;
But for which I have not prayed; about which I have not even started.
My life is like a wind;
A wind that grows, within a pair of wings unseen.
My blood groans and roars as it steps forward;
My heart flips and leaps as it falls in love.
Ah, a love that arrived between roads foreign;
A love that slayed me, and tasted my juicy kiss;
Like a tame note, like a flood of roses;
Love that lights my rocks, and burdens my abyss.
And when everything is deaf and purely abysmal;
I shall bloom still, and glistening as rainfalls.
I shall listen to its greedy calls;
I shall begin my poem-as I'm thus hiding, behind the walls!
And the rain shall pour but bleak water;
A water so small, and thereby impure.
But thy eyes are like its earth-that stills and clarifies it;
And thy charms are magnets that charge-and wondrously cure!
As though I have ne'er been mystified;
When I am heartily scared-palely challenged and petrified.
I am but burnt, within this unmuttered torment;
But to my praise I stay loyal, and defined unbent.
Ah, Nikolaas, shalt thou be mine-and be my shield?
Shalt thou rewind my bones that have slept?
As far as I know, this poetry can no-one build;
Loves that other hearts shape; loves that their doubts have kept.
Ah, Nikolaas, shalt thou melt my, my very insane heart?
Of which thy breath hath owned a part;
I shall kiss thee; through thy mint arms-and thy cold sleeves;
I shall be the prettiest goddess God'll ever give.
Oh, Nikolaas, and shall thou purify my rain?
And liberate these tears-and their art of pain;
And let thy heart be the one I judge;
Make me all over sweet-like two twin bars of silky fudge.
And shalt be thou ***** by my shy verse?
For thou hath freed, and forgiven my bare universe;
I am in love, I am riding its wheels;
I am on the moon, no-one knows yet-how grateful I feel.
And Nikolaas, but shalt thou be my moon itself?
Over my darkness, thou shalt stay gripping and smiling;
And to my touches, thou shalt be forever truth;
Unlike this lone stranded poem-which thinks but stays mute;
Thou shalt be mine-on this wan land and in the keen hereafter;
Even when death is dubious-I shall remain and love thee like this; just as I do now-and perhaps forever.
Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
Thy innocence, thy innocence is more than what words have to say
Passionate face with youth that shall never decay
Oh, and stay mute amongst those bitter roses of May;
vanished worlds are real to me today.
Yester' firmly thou startled the wooden door
And grinningly stepped into the carpeted floor.
Vibrant speeches then thou began to tell;
thy voice silenced souls like a spell!
And how nature celebrated thy sound-
ah! as I could feel it on my bare ground.
Look! How those wheels just whirled round and round-
but bits of thy keen presence they never found.
Windy were just the dusky moors
Just as the brisk rainfalls turned worse.
Rattling against frail, murky hedges,
sweeping over cross, old shaky branches.
O! But shy, shy were thy glistening cheeks-
with shadows that were genuinely sweet!
Charming thy crowds with pretty wit-
as the new night grew darker and bleak.
Ah! But times for thou are forever;
while songs to thee are just curious and everlasting.
As death thou shalt never encounter;
with a life as long and unbending.
Aye! With that gaze so listless and melancholy-
but days so suspicious and full of poesy!
Thy steps still light but not playful;
amongst those tasks too hasty and dreadful.
Oh! Vivid clarity, and its colourful rainbows
are like the talents thou decently show.
Thy modesty might they but adore
Lightly and gaily, later and before.
O my willow! Thou art the fir tree to my green ferns;
dust and pale fire are thy dignified young heirs.
Last time when their suffering was hard and stern-
resolve thou did, their lonesome affairs.
And how dreary this smoky haze-
that once put me in grayish days!
But now strangely it has it been lifted-
and my whole conscience has now returned.
Ah! And how thou, thou wert there, once more!
As soon as I escaped from my dry stupor
and to safe convenience I restored;
thou wert within, just behind the door.
But like singing clouds thou drifted away again-
undead and undying, just like souls shalt always remain.
For thou there might never be tomorrow;
for thou art still, in thy here and now.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Who art thou, who art thou, oh-who art thou?
With eyes as shiny and like seas blue,
and glittering smiles so deep and true.
Thy voice as flawless as the walls,
but sleek and charming as rainfalls.
With skin as bright and slender pearls,
and lips as sensuous as mortal worlds.
And with thy golden hair thou art pure and white
as thou lay t'ere tranquilly by my side.
Ah, touch and rub my hand against thine,
but all th' way keep me still in thy mind.
Wake my soul and heal its coldness,
but fill it with more loving tenderness!
Just like th' youthful soul of an old painting,
and th' playful pages of some crusted writing.
Or like th' old door and its generous windowsill,
capture my heart and send all my spines to shrills.
And stare just like t'at into my eyes,
with gazes so clear, sweet and wise.
But never ever hesitate my love,
just like gladness nurses and shelters its laughter,
and how springs yearn to taste long summers.
Ah, thy white skin so made of eternal shades
a symbol of youth t'at just never fades.
How canst, how canst thou be so comely?
And with thy grace thou art but too lovely
For my Eastern being to bear,
and my curious soul to share.
O thee, my Western, Western prince!
Make me all brave; lure and tease me
'Till I canst no more resist thee.
How could thou but slip and enthrall my songs-
whenst all whose tones hath just gone wrong!
Andst how could thou write my poem-
with its my coquettish, and girlish rhyme;
as if having in thy hand, endless wits and time!
Ah, I hopeth thou shalt always be with me,
and wert but born and sewn for me-
o, and always just for me, selfishly.
And at one bare noon lifts my love,
into thy hands and thy merry soul
becoming thy dream princess sole.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Black coffee, clay mugs
Old sweaters, whiskey jugs
Aged wine, rusty fence
Copper pennies, nickel cents
Careworn shirts, timeworn sneakers
Fragrant wood, evergreen cedars
Dusty trails, decayed logs
Chirping grasshoppers, croaking frogs
Heavy rainfalls, splashing rocks
Whizzing insects, scattered flocks
Herb of grace, steady pace
Welcome to my happy place.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
Phantasmagoria, I was preached, is sin:
To clutch to dreamlings is ill-will;
To ponder about freedom is misanthropy,
But to succumb fosters good- will
An iota of irenic coexistence, fugitive,
Washes away rebellious thoughts? No!
Men, remains of flesh, tricked, eros,
Follow their desires, where the go?
‘Son, to this earth belong we, transient
Creatures are we; have to dwell on ‘their’
Wishes, weak, weary, a love-in, common-
Touch; ‘they’ have teeth and scare.’
Worm’s eye view, attainder, yield,
Stop! Cul-de-sac! Walls! Apartheid Walls!
High! Not enough to thwart efforts to
Seek freedom, e’en via blood rainfalls.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 7:50 AM UTC
Bloods colored the land below the wind.
The rainfalls are the tears from the loved ones left behind.
The wind blows, the grass bends to respect the heroes.
The dead are never the dead to us until we have forgotten them.
God blesses the heroes and may you rest in peace.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
My mind is calm,
Empty,
But not in the way I cherish.
The whiteout is blank,
Motionless,
The water on a still lake.
I long for the storms,
Rivers,
Rainfalls of inspirations.
Instead,
All I get,
Is c a l m
Dec 17, 2024
Dec 17, 2024 at 9:00 PM UTC
I'll dream of thee again tonight
Under the dark, and the sweet red light
I'll write you a piece of poetry
About a tender love story
I'll dream of the charm of Sofia
And sing it in my cantata
I'll dance again, again, and again
'Till this night fades, and comes morning rain
And now please come, come, come and come to me
'Mongst the bushes, and the rainbow tree
In your fair shapes, that no eyes could see
And be by me, as long as you want to be.
Now talk to me, and not to her
Who has loved you, from the very first
Feed on my love, and not on hers
I will fill your heart's sweat and thirst
Come to me again, oh you sweet
Listen to my poetry's last bit
Oh I want you, and want you alone
I'll have you wholly on my own.
You are as charming as rainfalls
Sweet as whispers behind the walls
And your love be my eternal
You are undead, you are immortal.
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC
It took billions of years and a big bang
To come where we are
Billions of stars were born and died
In the darkest hour on a canvass of light
Billions of people have walked this earth
Billions more will come and go
Billions of rainfalls and armies of clouds
But what are billions compared to now
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 9:14 AM UTC
In the depths of vision
Clear rainfalls accompany visionaries
With glistening sparkles
That exists because of intuition
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 10:37 AM UTC
Immortal, Immortal
I can only call you 'Immortal',
And not your name; which is as bright, and charming as rainfalls.
A name I sadly have to conceal;
A name that awakens my love, and sends into me-a tender loving thrill.
Immortal, Immortal
Your voice is the one I long to hear;
The voice that fills me with both love, and tears.
For 'tis not me, that owns your virtue;
For 'tis still her, whom is righted to love you.
Immortal, Immortal
I have no right to call your name;
Otherwise I shall be the one you blame.
For even thinking of you is a mistake;
A mistake I am cursed for, a mistake I ought not to dare to make.
Immortal, Immortal
Still every day my heart calls your name out;
Until it alone stops breathing; until my chest can no more shout.
Until the very moment my pulse grows weak;
And where these words, shall be the last I speak.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
here's to the cruelty of the sunrise to watch on, as you break my heart.
the thing with betrayal is that it comes from the softest, safest places — like dark brown eyes and a smile that reminds you of quiet, content mornings. like candle wax kisses — slowly dripping on the sun lines of your palms. like warm rooms and august rainfalls. like sunrises, gently creeping about. so here's to their cruelty to watch on, as you break my heart. now, the daylight's apology means nothing after it has cut my chest open to take a look at all this ache — something to remember you by.
maybe the only thing to remember you by.
and no, i never wanted to write poems about you breaking my heart, so instead, i'll ask: how many more daylights do i have to curse to still the aching in my chest? how many more daylights do i have to make a mess of, just so i'm not one? how many more daylights shall i waste hurting?
how many more pretty daylights are there to break? how many more days?
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 6:23 AM UTC
When we first met, she was but a seed. A mischievous **** sprouting in the grass where I lay. Her lanky leaves and long stem bothered me, and the way she never could sway the same way as the grass forced me resentful.
I poured lemon juice upon her, lathering her in the acidic liquid, wishing her to drown and in the hopes that she’d become more like the dry grass and in the hopes that she’d disappear among them.
Without effect from my malicious attempt of ridding her, my flower continued to grow. In observing this, i refused her water. I enclosed her from the April rainfalls.
Because she was strong, and because of her faith in the spring, my flower kept growing with what little she had. In the summer, weeks past, i returned to see of what little was left of this **** Only to find under a grass covered leather, a slouching flower with white, wilting petals still facing the sun.
I realised the beauty she’d composed and felt her consecrated seed sow within the pit of my stomach. Like a barbed hook embedded in a fish’s lip, a part of her anchored. Thorns leapt from my internal stem, oozing liquid, guilt venom.
I frantically poured sugar-water over her as she offered her berries to me.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Her eyes dimmed
with every blink
that sparkle dissolved
in that black hole
that centered in the middle
of the pale blue eyes
Her body fluctuated
letting go of all things youth
from the tightness of her skin
to the fresh round cheeks
that once screamed health
Her hair darkened
those golden curls
straightened their act
falling on her hollow cheeks
Her neck that once stood tall
hid behind her gigantic scarves
keeping its seductive scent to her
and her alone
Her belly that once digested
the harshest of adventures
lay there, barely full
Her legs that danced with the moon
and ran with the sun, shivered
every time they pounded the pavement
Her fingers that once
narrated a sea of stories in a day or two
but now lay there helplessly
with no pen to hold
no inspiration to burn
within
It was the first time
she stared at a blank page
and shrugged her shoulders
and said "so what"
that was the moment
her muse
fell down to her knees
and cried rainfalls
of tears
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 9:55 AM UTC