"squally" poems - Hello Poetry

'Why keep a cow when I can buy,' Said he, 'the milk I need,' I wanted to spit in his eye Of selfishness and greed; But did not, for the reason he Was stronger than I be. I told him: ''Tis our human fate, For better or for worse, That man and maid should love and mate, And little children nurse. Of course, if you are less than man You can't do what we can. 'So many loving maids would wed, And wondrous mothers be.' 'I'll buy the love I want,' he said, 'No squally brats for me.' . . . I hope the devil stoketh well For him a special hell.

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7.4k

Robert Service

A Bachelor

'Why keep a cow when I can buy,' Said he, 'the milk I need,' I wanted to spit in his eye Of selfishness and greed; But did not, for the reason he Was stronger than I be. I told him: ''Tis our human fate, For better or for worse, That man and maid should love and mate, And little children nurse. Of course, if you are less than man You can't do what we can. 'So many loving maids would wed, And wondrous mothers be.' 'I'll buy the love I want,' he said, 'No squally brats for me.' . . . I hope the devil stoketh well For him a special hell.

18

I planted a cherry tree Four seasons back In a morose rain Pelting sharp upon nimble naked boughs And rows, of wild berries Running amuck in an unruly strain. The tree is a full bloom now Of white satin flowers Swirling against a beaming blue Tonight, as night keeps a vigil over my eyes I get under my squally Cherry Tree And suddenly I see it ailing Sick old moon peeps through its branches And I hear them crackle, not clear though Moaning unobtrusive, through a wicked grin. The moon lingers on long Shining painfully in the womb of night. I feel the stiffening wood coagulate in my veins As blackness suffuses unbridled In the cold wilderness of mind. April never was summer in Kashmir Look unto these dark skies Those pierce the ether yet once more Pelting mercilessly upon The ailing, armourless beings Whereby the cruel moon grins And my heart wilts with each withering flower Knocked down in the mud by The unsparing shower. Tears trickle down the smeared petals And I collect them into my eyes Till the plethora can no longer be contained I let them fall Into the capacious ***** of earth And in this cruel April rain My Cherry Tree shivers. Moans. Weeps. Over me.

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Apr 14, 2013

Apr 14, 2013 at 9:46 AM UTC

syed-rabea-bukhari

The Cherry Tree

I planted a cherry tree Four seasons back In a morose rain Pelting sharp upon nimble naked boughs And rows, of wild berries Running amuck in an unruly strain. The tree is a full bloom now Of white satin flowers Swirling against a beaming blue Tonight, as night keeps a vigil over my eyes I get under my squally Cherry Tree And suddenly I see it ailing Sick old moon peeps through its branches And I hear them crackle, not clear though Moaning unobtrusive, through a wicked grin. The moon lingers on long Shining painfully in the womb of night. I feel the stiffening wood coagulate in my veins As blackness suffuses unbridled In the cold wilderness of mind. April never was summer in Kashmir Look unto these dark skies Those pierce the ether yet once more Pelting mercilessly upon The ailing, armourless beings Whereby the cruel moon grins And my heart wilts with each withering flower Knocked down in the mud by The unsparing shower. Tears trickle down the smeared petals And I collect them into my eyes Till the plethora can no longer be contained I let them fall Into the capacious ***** of earth And in this cruel April rain My Cherry Tree shivers. Moans. Weeps. Over me.

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and we met up, same place, seats still cold but comfy. Your cheeks were fuchsia pink from the squally breeze outside and I had one of my scarves wound around my neck, red and black like a chunk of children’s candy. The story you'd started was going well, ideas popping up as a villain would in a hackneyed horror film. I said a sporadic poem spilled onto the page but little else, just comatose dross. Twenty past, coffee swam over our teeth like sepia-bikinied swimmers. Somehow you were more beautiful but unaware of it, your hair brighter under the glare of the lights above. The youngest pair around, early twenties, 'whole life ahead.' How wrong. Our relationship a radiator that fails to heat up enough. Everybody has one. I'll write about you someday for sure. Some day.

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Dec 27, 2012

Dec 27, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC

reece-aj-chambers

A Thursday Some Weeks Later

and we met up, same place, seats still cold but comfy. Your cheeks were fuchsia pink from the squally breeze outside and I had one of my scarves wound around my neck, red and black like a chunk of children’s candy. The story you'd started was going well, ideas popping up as a villain would in a hackneyed horror film. I said a sporadic poem spilled onto the page but little else, just comatose dross. Twenty past, coffee swam over our teeth like sepia-bikinied swimmers. Somehow you were more beautiful but unaware of it, your hair brighter under the glare of the lights above. The youngest pair around, early twenties, 'whole life ahead.' How wrong. Our relationship a radiator that fails to heat up enough. Everybody has one. I'll write about you someday for sure. Some day.

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Unbeknownst to them, Who speak with words of folly I writhe and employ strength Where they often squally I struggle and I break, Quiet and alone As I do suffer for my sake; Oh, how I do bemoan They shall observe, surely stern With not same, but similar, eyes That quite mock, and quite discern My sadness from their like Frustration abound, lamps none alight I cannot speak, but listen; and write

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Jan 13, 2014

Jan 13, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC

someone

Plight of an Emotional Poet

Unbeknownst to them, Who speak with words of folly I writhe and employ strength Where they often squally I struggle and I break, Quiet and alone As I do suffer for my sake; Oh, how I do bemoan They shall observe, surely stern With not same, but similar, eyes That quite mock, and quite discern My sadness from their like Frustration abound, lamps none alight I cannot speak, but listen; and write

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*Stormy day , rising , pollen laced puddles Obsidian , squally countryside backdrops - with aromatic Wisteria infusions , humid , sunbeam fueled - certain windstorm conclusions Citywide , asphalt stained vehicles , rain engulfed curbside - rivers at full pool , diesel fumes swallowing available air at four-way intersections Discarded paper , eastbound swayed hardwoods Snapping flags cry out in brief , turbulent episodes Evergreen needles at hours disposal The mechanized voices of late afternoon travel and corruption*

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May 11, 2016

May 11, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

South Fulton Rain ...

*Stormy day , rising , pollen laced puddles Obsidian , squally countryside backdrops - with aromatic Wisteria infusions , humid , sunbeam fueled - certain windstorm conclusions Citywide , asphalt stained vehicles , rain engulfed curbside - rivers at full pool , diesel fumes swallowing available air at four-way intersections Discarded paper , eastbound swayed hardwoods Snapping flags cry out in brief , turbulent episodes Evergreen needles at hours disposal The mechanized voices of late afternoon travel and corruption*

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Stygian clouds clash, Drizzles a great squall, Quenches the parched land's thirst, The nature's blue wonder. The shower pours down, Soaking the natures hand, Spilling on the dry fields, Flourishes the farmers land. Fill the dry lakes, Overflow the thirsty dams, Fall the natures cascade, Drench the lifeless forests. Trees sway merrily, In the gusty winds, Their shrivelled state vanishes, As bathe them a deluge. The concrete jungle wettens, The beings here rejoice, As falls the rain, Ends the withered climate. Droplets dash the ground, The view fantasise me, To feel the zest at once, Out my abode i flee. To embrace the weather, I go drench in the pour, Splashing through puddles, No worries of muddy clothes. Streets wetten up, Slippery they seem Vehicles slide over it, In the squally weather. A scurry i see, As run people on the roads, Seeking for cover somewhere, As rain cats & dogs. Many tunes i hear, A "pitter patter" ring's my ear, The ***** traffic jam, Disrupts the nature's hymn. Kids i see around, Dance in this noise, Sail they paper boats, A child in me invokes. "Red hearts" roam around, As continues the watery storm, Spending minutes of love, As showers this romance charm. Flows a chilly gust, Pour and pour the clouds, Soaks the busy city, The first squally shower. Drenched up dear me, I am back at home, After natures cool splash, My hearts quenched now. Back at home, I seat by the window, Relishing the weather, In the chilly monsoon. - Kedar K

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Aug 1, 2016

Aug 1, 2016 at 7:44 AM UTC

kedar

Monsoon

Stygian clouds clash, Drizzles a great squall, Quenches the parched land's thirst, The nature's blue wonder. The shower pours down, Soaking the natures hand, Spilling on the dry fields, Flourishes the farmers land. Fill the dry lakes, Overflow the thirsty dams, Fall the natures cascade, Drench the lifeless forests. Trees sway merrily, In the gusty winds, Their shrivelled state vanishes, As bathe them a deluge. The concrete jungle wettens, The beings here rejoice, As falls the rain, Ends the withered climate. Droplets dash the ground, The view fantasise me, To feel the zest at once, Out my abode i flee. To embrace the weather, I go drench in the pour, Splashing through puddles, No worries of muddy clothes. Streets wetten up, Slippery they seem Vehicles slide over it, In the squally weather. A scurry i see, As run people on the roads, Seeking for cover somewhere, As rain cats & dogs. Many tunes i hear, A "pitter patter" ring's my ear, The ***** traffic jam, Disrupts the nature's hymn. Kids i see around, Dance in this noise, Sail they paper boats, A child in me invokes. "Red hearts" roam around, As continues the watery storm, Spending minutes of love, As showers this romance charm. Flows a chilly gust, Pour and pour the clouds, Soaks the busy city, The first squally shower. Drenched up dear me, I am back at home, After natures cool splash, My hearts quenched now. Back at home, I seat by the window, Relishing the weather, In the chilly monsoon. - Kedar K

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You sang me my first song when I was in the womb. Endured pain to grant me the breath of existence, Shed tears of joy when I was released from the cocoon. How could I ever forget your warm hug and over possessiveness? You nurtured me and I still remember your bed time stories, I have seen you wake up the whole night when I was ill. It made me feel secure and in the state of bliss. You wake me up during midnight and make me have my pill Reprimand me in every idiotic and erroneous step I take; Now whenever I commit an error, I just visualize your image, And my intellect prevents me from committing a mistake. Oh Mother! The feelings are too great to be contained in this page! During my childhood, I used to snooze on the couch intentionally, So that you would bestow me on bed and tug blanket. You always sheltered me in your arms when it rains or if it’s squally. Oh Mother! Wish I could time travel to those remarkable dates! Your fragrance is sufficient to make me feel relaxed. To our family you embrace the uppermost position, We would be lost without your management and your acts. Oh Mother! You really show me how it feels to be with your loved ones! You taught me the technique to survive in this peculiar world, For you knew that you wouldn’t be with me forever. Be pleased! For ‘I am prepared’ is my word! I guarantee I won’t fall down whatsoever.

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May 18, 2017

May 18, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC

An_Ordinary_Soul

Thank you Mother

You sang me my first song when I was in the womb. Endured pain to grant me the breath of existence, Shed tears of joy when I was released from the cocoon. How could I ever forget your warm hug and over possessiveness? You nurtured me and I still remember your bed time stories, I have seen you wake up the whole night when I was ill. It made me feel secure and in the state of bliss. You wake me up during midnight and make me have my pill Reprimand me in every idiotic and erroneous step I take; Now whenever I commit an error, I just visualize your image, And my intellect prevents me from committing a mistake. Oh Mother! The feelings are too great to be contained in this page! During my childhood, I used to snooze on the couch intentionally, So that you would bestow me on bed and tug blanket. You always sheltered me in your arms when it rains or if it’s squally. Oh Mother! Wish I could time travel to those remarkable dates! Your fragrance is sufficient to make me feel relaxed. To our family you embrace the uppermost position, We would be lost without your management and your acts. Oh Mother! You really show me how it feels to be with your loved ones! You taught me the technique to survive in this peculiar world, For you knew that you wouldn’t be with me forever. Be pleased! For ‘I am prepared’ is my word! I guarantee I won’t fall down whatsoever.

24

IT rained ruinously down the streets went the raging day's temperament The dog's barking and snapping at the droplets of regretful tears that grew into monstrously huge violence A hailed cab stood no chance and a failed businessman took his clothes off and dove headfirst into the gutter of despair The young mother with her stroller hoisted her sails and allowed squally wind to pacify the cute cuddly cherub \no other thing existed. The world was all empty pending the eleven o'clock news./ Unpredictable -- as is nature. :: 09-29-2018 ::

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Oct 1, 2018

Oct 1, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC

eprobles

WEATHER REPORT

IT rained ruinously down the streets went the raging day's temperament The dog's barking and snapping at the droplets of regretful tears that grew into monstrously huge violence A hailed cab stood no chance and a failed businessman took his clothes off and dove headfirst into the gutter of despair The young mother with her stroller hoisted her sails and allowed squally wind to pacify the cute cuddly cherub \no other thing existed. The world was all empty pending the eleven o'clock news./ Unpredictable -- as is nature. :: 09-29-2018 ::

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Soughing through the meadows, waves of stately grass swaying to your squally weaves. Playing through the treetops swinging them to your fantasy; diving down, breathing music into the withered, dead-brown leaves, raising them from their gravey bed – the summer wind in its mischievous dance! Gold of the shining sun lighting up the wind’s fairy wings – a phantom dancing frantically. Dead leaves waltzing up to the heavens in a majestic whirlwind! O summer wind, ‘vigorate my wings with your arcane breath; hitch me to your wings, take me to the exotic lands you graze!

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Sep 18, 2018

Sep 18, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC

the-mystique-trail

The summer wind

Soughing through the meadows, waves of stately grass swaying to your squally weaves. Playing through the treetops swinging them to your fantasy; diving down, breathing music into the withered, dead-brown leaves, raising them from their gravey bed – the summer wind in its mischievous dance! Gold of the shining sun lighting up the wind’s fairy wings – a phantom dancing frantically. Dead leaves waltzing up to the heavens in a majestic whirlwind! O summer wind, ‘vigorate my wings with your arcane breath; hitch me to your wings, take me to the exotic lands you graze!

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*Squally weather evolves into 'Life's Saccharum Wine' , dripping from grateful leaves and every vine Seasoned with tangy , Foothill tree and honey- flower alike Forest patrons cull their mouths with all their might , a parched countryside becoming drunk with delight To partake in natures vintage from blessed Earthen cask this rain cooled September night*

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Sep 13, 2016

Sep 13, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Supplications Answered ....

*Squally weather evolves into 'Life's Saccharum Wine' , dripping from grateful leaves and every vine Seasoned with tangy , Foothill tree and honey- flower alike Forest patrons cull their mouths with all their might , a parched countryside becoming drunk with delight To partake in natures vintage from blessed Earthen cask this rain cooled September night*

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Arise, arise For their spite is their folly Arise, arise Clutch that burden of sight Arise, arise For the Queens become squally Take hold your own hand Stand tall for the fight Be willing Be bold Be strength Don’t fold Take flight Command Be brave Don’t land For the King and his men Will trample Descend “But FIGHT!” Said she. “We’ll win...” “...they’ll see.”

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Oct 27, 2020

Oct 27, 2020 at 11:44 PM UTC

aly-omalley

Battle Cry of the Woman

Arise, arise For their spite is their folly Arise, arise Clutch that burden of sight Arise, arise For the Queens become squally Take hold your own hand Stand tall for the fight Be willing Be bold Be strength Don’t fold Take flight Command Be brave Don’t land For the King and his men Will trample Descend “But FIGHT!” Said she. “We’ll win...” “...they’ll see.”

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When I’m late for the party Will my friends realize That I don’t need anybody To gaze at me in the eye I’m alone in this chair I’m entranced by my hand I wear a stop motion stare Watching Murmillos dance I watch a billowed Boeing Waiting for its head to yaw I hear my matter flowing But it’s yet to reach my maw I’m alone in this world My convulsions hold my tail I’m still searching for a girl Should I burn in the hail Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema If you miss me Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema If you miss me When I’m lost in my folly Will my friends peel off my eyes? Will they find my reels of squally Bite and tear at my own guise? I’m alone in this seat I am called without a smile I will fold under the heat Of the night’s airless mile Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema Could you kiss me? Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema Find me in the cinema Could you miss me?

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Nov 1, 2018

Nov 1, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC

DerrekEstrella

Find Me in the Cinema

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