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Rob Sandman Mar 2019
Storm Rider(sample the doors)
start with "Riders on the Storm" softly repeated x4)

Try catch me-leap from ground to sky,
light up the night as I fly,
Tip to tip mischievous-watch me salmon leap-avert your eyes,
The Celtic Dragon Storm Riding tonight,
feel the static on your skin lets take flight

Vast vista’s fistula’s in the earths core,
fly with me you wanna feel more?,
cut core to core claws - millivolt amped,
up to attack lay down my stamp,
Earth tremblin’ rumblin' humbling when I catch the spark,
revered by Tesla - hear me Arc…
Another mic blown - booth in chaos,
I stand firm - you're reeling as you're reeled in tossed,
like ragdoll physics my rhymes rip timelines,
Faultlines and default rhymes?
Never,I’m too clever,agility reveals your fragility,
Claws rip and drag you down …to a sea of tranquility…
Hush now ,shush now,
hear the susurrus as I leave you nonplussed

phase you back to your body  trans warp jump
tachycardia spasms chasms torn by talons,
pounces crush tons to ounces as I flex my neck…
hasn't changed since Wu told ya’s”Best protect ya neck”


Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...
Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...

Feel me breath blowing like a gale - the Gael without fail,
I inhale and exhale flames of hell,
hellbent- time to repent
you’re scurrying in gullies while I seek your Scent,
SNIFFFF-grrrrrrrr that’s the sound of doom,
from the Emerald shore to the Pharaohs tomb,
No room to escape the breath that melts steel
rabbit in my headlights feel my claws life steal,
oxygen and nitrogen erupt to seal your fate,
debate-berate, get estate in order,
one Molten blast of fast rhyme its over.
scorchmark against a granite wall,
burnt to a crisp by the firestorm from hell,
well welcome to hell do you feel the heat?
Sandman slim dragon never fears defeat,
20 years here  spittin’ in the underground,
Now its time to vacate my space hear my sound
A no go area,gates of Mordor,
dragged by the Dragon to your place of ******,
claws like claymores rake your face,
prepared to ignite,take flight-seal your fate...

Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah, the firestorm
Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...
Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah, the firestorm
Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...

Call me Nukker ******, you're due to be Slaine,
one scaldin' verse melts down your brain,
searing breath - death bursts unprepared heads,
Streets run red with the blood of the dead.
Feel the headwind....blowin' as I exhale.
My fetid breath tastes stale as you inhale

lucid juices sluicin in the Wyrms Den,
just One spark you're gonna BURN then!,
wingspan of an Antonov best back off!,
forked lightning blasts ground - as I take off,
fly head on to the heart of the Hurricane,
calescent death as I stake my claim,
rider on the storm,your attempt? - luke warm,
spells incandesce without stress as they take form,
the Serpent serpentine's through the night sky,
take eyes off mine? - your turn to fry.
don't cry it's fate, conserve your hate,
you perspire before your expiry date,
a Deer in the deadlights I'll open the gate,
to the next realm, next challenger calcerated,
another Champion obliterated,
ardent first to set foot on my Isle
now you're here you feel febrile,
feeble feverish attempts cut short clean sliced,
by the Firestorm Dragon with the eyes of Ice.

(Soft-"Riders on the Storm" rpt x2 Chorusx2 end.)

Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by...
Storm Rider,Glider light up the night yeah,
the Firestorm Lightning Storm inside your minds eye take my hand and we'll both fly
as the ground flashes by.
Tabitha Lee Feb 13
Eye of the storm- Ryan Stevenson

In the eye of the storm
You remain in control
And in the middle of the war
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me
In the eye of the storm

When the solid ground is falling out from underneath my feet
Between the black skies, and my red eyes, I can barely see
When I realize I've been sold out by my friends and my family
I can feel the rain reminding me

In the eye of the storm, You remain in control
In the middle of the war, You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor, when my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me
In the eye of the storm

Mmm, when my hopes and dreams are far from me
And I'm runnin' out of faith
I see the future I picture slowly fade away
And when the tears of pain and heartache
Are pouring down my face
I find my peace in Jesus' name

In the eye of the storm (yeah, yeah)
You remain in control (yes you do, Lord)
In the middle of the war
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me (Your love surrounds me)
In the eye of the storm (in the eye of the storm)

When the test comes in and the doctor says
I've only got a few months left
It's like a bitter pill I'm swallowing
I can barely take a breath
And when addiction steals my baby girl
And there's nothing I can do
My only hope is to trust You
I trust You, Lord

In the eye of the storm (yeah, yeah)
You remain in control
In the middle of the war (middle of the war)
You guard my soul (yeah!)
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me (yeah!)
In the eye of the storm

You remain in control (yes you do, Lord)
In the middle of the war (in the middle of the war)
You guard my soul
You alone are the anchor
When my sails are torn
Your love surrounds me
In the eye of the storm

Oh, in the eye of
Lord, in the eye of the storm
I know You're watching me, yeah
Ay

When the storm is raging (when the storm is raging)
And my hope is gone (and my hope is gone, Lord)
When my flesh is failing
You're still holding on, oh whoa

When the storm is raging (the storm is raging)
And my hope is gone (and all my hope is gone)
When my flesh is failing (my flesh is failing)
You're still holding on, ooh

When the storm is raging (when the storm is raging)
And my hope is gone (and my hope is gone)
Even when my flesh is failing (flesh is failing)
You're still holding on, holding on

The Lord is my Shepherd
I have all that I need
He let's me rest in green meadows
He leads me beside peaceful streams
He renews my strength
He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to His Name
Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid
For You are close beside me
Hey guys remeber he is there for you through and through and when I say He i mean God!!!
Gwendolyn Jul 2013
My conscience
That has been there
Since I was four
Making sure
That I wasn't in trouble

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Long, straight brown hair
Chocolate eyes
Freckles cover her face
Extremely tall

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Shy, but outgoing
Depending on who's around
Impossible to stay mad at
Makes bad choices
From time to time

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin


Silent treatments
Loud fights
Best Friends

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

She is a rock
She is string
She holds things together
She calms the sea
Or starts a storm

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Embarrassing moments
Weird looks
Always crazy
She gets through the bad things
Helps start the good

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Puzzles, swim team
Life changing
Life calming
Starts Chaos
She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Two sides
Same coin
Same person
Different personalities
Quiet in public
Crazy in not

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Keeps things going
She is a bank
A bank of secrets
She keeps the vault
Locked

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

She is like a storm
And the calm before it
Chaos and control




She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Listens to music
Like the rest of the world
But yet, doesn't conform
At least not completely

She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

Easily molded
But not easily shaped
She is not always there
Yet she is


She is string
She holds me together
She is a storm
Starts chaos
She is a two sided coin

She taught me
That I
Didn't have
To be
Completely
Alone
Colleen McNulty May 2012
I
Here comes the storm.
When all of my choices are to be made.
For so long it seemed so far away,
And like a mirage it stayed the same.
No matter how other things moved,
The faster I moved the farther away it went.

II
Without a place to escape to, i followed the road where it went,
Wishing I knew what would happen after this storm.
I think it would be beautiful, though, as horses moved.
And though the storm comes no closer, despite my effort made,
Everything must be decided, nailed down, because nothing will be the same.

III
How tempting it is, to push everything away,
When I don’t know if this storm came and went.
Everything could be different, but to me it looks the same.
If only someone who knows it, could tell me of this storm.
**** it! I know some preparation could be made,
Soon, this storm or I will move.

IV
Once I begin, I will not be able to stop moving.
This storm will pull me in and I won’t get away.
I’m afraid it will take from me the ambition I’ve made,
I’m afraid that after I won’t know where it went,
And how to find it. maybe I won’t want to see this storm,
After all, it’s me that will change, this storm-any storm- will always be the same.

V
This storm, until I pass it, will stay the same,
But its inner workings collapse on themselves, and so its sameness moved.
All things cater to a storm.
They are invisible, but I know this one’s here. By the sway of the trees and the bend in the light and how all of the animals scamper away.
Through the warp of the stars I can see where it went,
It leaves a path, and to follow everything is made.

VI
Perspective is lost when fear is made.
And not all fears will stay the same.
If only in knowing where I went,
I can tell if the storm has moved,
It won’t matter if it stayed or went away.
It will matter that I walked-tall-into that storm.

VII
It will always catch up no matter how we move,
If we stay the same or move away.
Regardless of where we went, ahead remains the storm.
This is in sestina form, which is a lot like writing three poems at once while slaying a dragon.This poem is a metaphor for my worries about university and an event horizon and a black hole. My brains will need to be scraped off the floor.  In some places the metaphor for one theme is light, in order for another theme to shine through. For example, the fifth stanza is almost a slap in the face as a hint towards the black hole/event horizon theme. Mentions of the storm staying the same are referring to one's perception approaching a black hole. While getting closer, one cannot determine any change until they are beyond the event horizon. To me, university is an event horizon, and I'm terrified that it wont't be what I imagined it will be, that I will miss the opportunities it presents. I tried to allow for some ambiguity in this poem that I am not certain came across clearly. When someone reads this, I want them to be able to apply their own event horizon. Or realize how close the theory of general relativity is to poetry.
Left Foot Poet Sep 2017
"Shelter From The Storm"

Bob Dylan


'Twas in another lifetime one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue, the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness a creature void of form
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

And if I pass this way again you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death and men who are fighting to be warm
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Not a word was spoke between us there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I was burned out from exhaustion buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile ravaged in the corn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Suddenly I turned around and she was standing there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Now there's a wall between us something there's been lost
I took too much for granted, I got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on an uneventful morn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much it's doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker he blows a futile horn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I've heard newborn babies wailing like a mourning dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
Do I understand your question man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

In a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation and she gave me a lethal dose
I offered up my innocence, I got repaid with scorn
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well I'm living in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge someday I'll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."
in our thots, as we shelter-in-our-place Fla. refugees
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2016
Shelter from the Storm
by Bob Dylan**

'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost
I took too much for granted, I got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on an uneventful morn
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation and she gave me a lethal dose
I offered up my innocence I got repaid with scorn
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm

Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
Come in, she said
I'll give ya shelter from the storm
2:17 am
listening to the prophet, this one of many,
one eyed undertaker, blowing his futile  horn...
Iska Oct 2017
Dear Loved One,
You know, when i met you,
I wasn't sure if you were the lighthouse or the storm.
and honestly i didn't want to know.
because the light house brings you home
when the world rages around.
where as the storm rages with the world,
in sync but completely apart.
only to realize i was completely wrong
you see, when it comes to me..
i have two sides.
or so I'm told.

I am the storm,
beautiful in its chaos and destruction.
with a tendency to destroy people in such a way that,
to survive, they flee to a light house
and vanish forever leaving me to rage alone,
saying i was not the storm you chase,
so they ran away with the winds.

I am the bird,
weathering the storm
with the promise of freedom on my mind.
as others look on in disappointment,
claiming my stupidity for flying in a storm
that will rip off my wings,
that's not what i see though.
no for me its an adventure on the wind,
a shiver down my spine
and the taste of the electric air,
giving me the complete feeling of being alive.

but you....
you are the eye in the storm.
that hidden pocket of safety
that is rarely seen
scarcely sought out
and almost never found.
you have the ability to weather my storm
and shelter my bird when I'm tired of flying.
my equal and opposite.

And while nothing is worth destroying  yourself over,
if you do destroy yourself,
always make sure its for something spectacular,
make sure its for yourself.
and you my friend
are spectacular enough that i think id destroy myself
every day,
again and again,
before i  would ever let myself destroy you.
because that's what staying is like.
its not flying away to chase a storm,
its to rage quietly within these four walls.
and it destroys me a little more every day.
but your worth it.
and sometimes it brings me to a dark place.
and i absolutely love you for
quietly opening your arms,
not trying to change me,
no, instead
you sit down with me in your arms
kiss my forehead
and silently dwell in the dark with me,
feeling my winds thrash and whip around us.
and still you remain,
refusing to flee.

and if i run...
i hope you'll accept my devilish smile,
take my hand,
and run with me...
because every storm needs an eye in its center.
and even the birds need to rest during their flight.

~Sincerely the storm.
keep those who stay,
the ones who bare the storm
and shelter you.
treat them well,
whether they are lovers
or simply friends.
for they will never abandon you
and will never lead you astray.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
I was in another lifetime one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness a creature void of form
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

And if I pass this way again you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death and men who are fighting to be warm
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

Not a word was spoke between us there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

I was burned out from exhaustion buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile ravaged in the corn
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

Suddenly I turned around and she was standing there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

Now there's a wall between us something there's been lost
I took too much for granted got my signals crossed
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

Well the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much it's doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker he blows a futile horn
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".
I've heard newborn babies wailing like a mourning dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
Do I understand your question man is it hopeless and forlorn
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

In a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation and they gave me a lethal dose
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".

Well I'm living in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge someday I'll make it mine
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
"Come in" she said
"I'll give you shelter from the storm".
I really think of mi amour
When he sings the words
( come in she said, I'll give ya shelter from the storm.. As she's given me a home!! (): love it!!!
Michael Benton Sep 2010
All the sailor's know the warning
of a red-tinged sunrise morning
Storm clouds are on the bay

Just as Sally knew the forming
as his rage began its swarming
Storm clouds again today

Others see something pleasing
and rebuff the ocean's teasing
Storm clouds are on the way

And they said she was mistaken
no beast was there to awaken
Storm clouds they do embrace

But sailor's know their business
as time has oft made them witness
Storm clouds that run their race

To her the truth couldn't be clearer
as she looked into the mirror -
Storm clouds upon her face

The sailor knows to dodge the squall
that morning foretells with its call
Storm clouds then pass them by

Sally was left to take the fall
when truth was denied by us all
Storm clouds then let her die

Troubles in life they take all forms
so listen well when told of storms
Storm clouds never lie
Copyright  © 2008 MH Benton
NitaAnn Jun 2014
What do you need right now, Nita?*

Shelter from the storm...that’s what I would like right now, that’s what I need right now, dear therapist. Shelter from the storm.

I don’t doubt my determination to survive and yet here I am crying again. Crying and wishing for some GD shelter from the storm…the therapist does not question my commitment or desire to continue to work through this and someday come out on the other side. At least I don’t think he does.

I can’t find my safe place now…it was such a fragile structure to begin with, made of straw and easily blown away in a storm. But it did exist two years ago. It did. And for the first time in my life I felt understood, safe, ‘real’. My safe place was a place I could be angry and sad, and hopeless. A place I could ask for guidance in the midst of confusion; a place of encouragement and comfort. A place where I could find shelter from the storm.

But I can’t find it now! I feel like I am on the edge of tumbling into oblivion due to my own intransigence and inability to let the therapist back in.(or anybody) And I desperately need him tonight…shelter from the rain, stability in the wind, comfort in the thunder and lightning that is threatening me now.

And what is maddening to me is if the therapist walked up to me right now, with a stadium sized umbrella and said, “Nita, come in and I will give you shelter from the storm.” I still stand in the rain, wind and thunderstorm and decline his umbrella because of my fear he would just wrench it away before the storm was over.

So, here I sit, like a frightened child, on my own little island, surrounded by the storm, crying my eyes out over loss and betrayal…on an endless search for shelter from the storm.

Here I sit arguing with myself!

"Nita, you can't do it alone.  He wants to help you - take the **** umbrella!"  
"No!  I won't take it!  I don't need his **** umbrella!"  
"Fine! You stupid baby! Suffer by yourself then ~ stubborn little *****!"  
"I said take the umbrella!"


Messed up?  That does not even begin to cover it.
Caught in a storm,
right in the middle.
I want to get out,
just for a little.

Caught in a storm,
trying my best
to try and fix
this broken mess.

Caught in a storm,
don't know what to do.
All I can think of
is to pray to You.

Caught in a storm,
I'm on my knees.
Lord please help me,
help me please.

Caught in a storm,
surrounded by fear.
I don't want to shed
all these tears.

Caught in a storm,
trying to find
a place of peace
to clear my mind.

Caught in a storm
of thunder and rain,
yelling and screaming,
it only brings pain.

Caught in a storm,
don't want to break
from all the waves
this chaos can make.

Caught in a storm,
I'm trying to fend
off this contention.
I'm starting to bend.

Caught in a storm,
of all this hate.
I don't want this
to be my fate....
Alvin Moses Mar 2012
A storm is coming,
Its coming in the form of a man,
He comes to disrupt,
Whatever peace I have left.

But I will fight this man,
Only because,
This peace I have,
I worked to attain.

But this storm of a man,
Comes in beauty,
He comes with delightful looks,
And he plans to rip away the peace in my heart.

This man,
This strong man,
When he smiles at me,
I melt away in his arms.

But the storm is strong,
And it covers me,
And I am lost again,
The peace I have slowly disappears.

But I scream NO!
I will not lose the peace,
A peace which I have come to love,
Which I have become accustomed to.

This man shakes my love,
This storm shakes my beliefs,
This man has his arm around me,
And I am at peace again.

But what do I tell the peace I already have?
Do I leave it?

This storm in the form of a man,
Has caused me to question my peace.

The sophisticated and beautiful storm.

I am at a crossroads.

On my left is the storm that will take me into new realms,
And in that storm, an unknown man stands,
His hands outreached to receive me,
Behind him is the unknown.

On my right is peace and love,
Amongst all that peace and love is warmth,
A man stands there as well, but a man with a familiar face,
He smiles and ushers me come to him.

So I stand at the crossroad,
Thinking,
Pondering,
Wondering,
Screaming.

The pain is terrible,
The feeling is disgraceful.

But I know I have to choose.
But what will I choose?

So I choose the road ahead of me,
Neither left nor right,
I stumble onto a new road,
And I look on at it,
And I am happy with what I have chosen,
I will create peace and love there,
Wherever this road leads me,
I will begin a storm for myself.

And the two men are no more.
My hand.
My sweet hand, its long fingers, hold out for you. It feels for you, to guide you through this storm. I can feel you, just out of reach, your arms are turned away from me, crossed to protect you, shielding the darkness within from escaping, as if pushing back the rise of a storm, that your heart, can no longer contain.
There is a storm coming.
I can see it in your eyes, as they look behind me, unable to see me, unable to see, me. As if my very visage is a reminder that you can no longer be alone, as if my very eyes tell you that you are here with me, and all, will be, ok. And your very eyes, and your very chest and your very shoulders, they seem to die a thousand deaths before me, exuding defeat and terror and defense, and relief, all at the same time.
I. cannot. reach. you.
Hold. out. your. hand. My. Love.
You sit, you stand, you walk away, you ignore my hand. You want to do this alone. Alone, without me. With me, alone. But my heart beats only for you, you can hear the sound distantly, from the pulse inmy wrist by my hand, and it widens your eyes and stirs you. And, I can see, the very depths of your soul in each breath you release. In every expletive you throw at me, for being here, for making you realise that, I am not, her. I am not, her. I am not, them. Your soul, it unleashes hell, fire, ash and a deep darkness you cannot bear.
My love. My sweet sweet love. Hear me:
I am safety, i wear an orange vest and headlamp. I am clear skies, and sunshine. I am a long open road to nowhere. I am teenage butterflies. I am the chest with the ******* that you will lie your head on during the night and find security. I am the shore after the wreck. I am freedom, beauty, passion, laughter and forever after. I am shelter, with blankets. I am the fullness of your void. I am the full stop to the end of your questions.
There is a storm coming.
You have tied yourself to the rigging. You are stood ready for the hurracaine. You glance briefly at me, and in your eyes is a child that is lost, that is lost, that is longing, that is hollow and alone, and does.not.understand. Why?
There is a storm coming.
The dam in your heart broke and the arteries flood your brain with, life, fear, and belief.
Take my hand, my love. I will be here. I will  not be, moved.
I am, a rock, to cling to. I am a storm shelter. I am a end to your beginning.
I will not leave. I will not go.  I be here in the fall, the ruin, the despise, the bitterness, the anger, the rejection, and the destruction. I will be here, with my arm, hung out to dry amongst the linen and the memories you drew on them to protect yourself from me.
My hand, it can hold your world. My hand can protect you. My hand, we can conquer the world, my love. My hand is yours, my hand is yours, my hand, is, yours.
Take it.
Fall to your knees, place my hand on your face as you weep the storm in to my world, and release the whole hurracaine within you. I will take that storm and absolve it from itself.
My hand, your cheek
My pulse, your heart.
My love.
Take my hand, release your storm.

*(now read again, whilst listening to this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uffjii1hXzU&feature;=share&list;=AL94UKMTqg-9Ay9pKcP7K4WLmlE_GjKuqE)
Emma Sims Jan 2015
Sea settling,
Birds flying,
Air whistling,
Storm coming.

People leaving,
Raindrops falling,
Clouds gathering,
Storm coming.

Sun hiding,
Wind howling,
Waves thrashing,
Storm coming.

Lightning striking,
Dogs cowering,
Thunder rumbling,
Storm coming.

Tree's creaking,
Lighthouse flashing,
Ships crashing,
Storm coming.

Rocks falling,
Fear heightening,
Rage frightening,
Storm coming.

River flooding,
Forest flattening,
Landscape changing,
*Storm coming.
Wrote it at school a while ago, still one of my favourites.
Ahmad Cox Dec 2012
Something is coming.
I can feel it on the wind
A change is upon us
A change is at hand
The storm is coming
I can feel it in the air
A great change is coming
You have to beware
I can feel it coming
People are getting
Caught in the storm
Caught in the first
Winds and rains
Anchor yourself
Keep yourself
Strong my friend
There is still
Along way to go
Before we are fully
Clear of the winds
And the rains
It has only
Just begun
We are in the
Midst of a new
Way of thinking
A new storm of
Ideas and thoughts
All colliding at once
Colliding and coalescing
Into one great mass
A mass of crazy mess
And energy that is
Driving us mad
With its insanity
People are getting
Lost in the mess
Lost in the storm
Lost to the dark
Allowing the
Insanity to take
Over their hearts
Yet there are some
Who are also reaching
Higher heights
New ways of thinking
New ways of loving
Creating higher
Connections with
Themselves and the Earth
Creating more open
And loving connections
With every one around
Spreading the love
And getting deeper
Flying higher
Than they ever
Have before
You must get
Yourself ready
The storm is upon us
The storm is here
The storm is now
We still have a long
Way for the storm to stop
But once it does
We will see a calm
A break in the storm
In the clouds like
We have never seen
A new light
A brand new
Day
A stronger
Clearer
Brighter
Way of
Thinking
Than we ever
Thought
Possible
Some people
Will inevitably
Get caught up
In the initial storm
Getting caught in
The mess and
The muck and mire
But if you can stay
Strong and survive
You will sail above
The storm
Flying into
Newer heights
Than you ever
Thought possible
My lover rose out of the sea one day
And kissed me all rosy and warm;
I beckoned him in to my cave to stay,
But he sighed, for the gathering storm.
But he sighed, for the gathering storm.

My lover rose out of the sea that eve,
And sadly he started to warn,
"My love, much too soon you my death will grieve,
For I die with the gathering storm.
For I die with the gathering storm."

My lover rose out of the sea that night
For to marry me next Sunday morn;
But the Fates had declared thus in all their might:
"He will die with the gathering storm.
He will die with the gathering storm."

My lover rose out of the sea one day
For to face his gathered storm.
He gave me a grin and a rose from our bay,
But the storm came and left me forlorn.
But the storm came and left me forlorn.
aspen Dec 2012
There is still a storm in the distance
you’re the thunder in my mind
thoughts of falling asleep at your side
you’ve made me who I am today
without our pasts who would we be?
There is still a storm in the distance
your eyes glisten in my mind
thoughts of me waking up in your heart
I wish I could be in your every thought
how selfish I am today
There is still a storm in the distance
dance with me I wish I could say
hold me forever is all I want
there is always a price to pay
with every blessing lurks a curse
There is still a storm in the distance
thoughts of what could have been haunt all my actions
what will I do when we eventually fall apart
feelings of falling in love tend to scar
none less deep than ones already there
I wanna forget
I wanna move on
but I can’t
There is still a storm in the distance
threatening to take away every breath
every hope
every dream
threatening to take you
do you even care?
There is still a storm in the distance
hold me forever in your arms
warmth and life fades away every second
There is still a storm in the distance
hold me in your heart forever
dying inside isn’t a pleasant feeling
There is still a storm in the distance
do you even really care?
Jade Louise Mar 2015
Phase 1:
The rain was eating the world
The acid drops falling into attack
At first they had been glistening
Sparkling clear, like giant glass tears
So beautiful a child held out his tongue
But then they had began frightening the flowers, puckering holes in their pastel petals
They made the crisp paint coats of houses stream in desperate colorful tears
The roads filled, like acid rivers
Rivers that no sail could survive
The world dissolving, right before my very eyes
Like a canvas being erased from inside its frame

I was running with my umbrella
Clear plastic hexagon on a handle
Hovering Above my head
Like an insect’s stretched out wings
Sheltering me from the storm
My magic umbrella
My rain boots pacing faster, acid avoiding my eyes
Getting to the silva garden

The silva garden was dripping in cobwebs
Shining like stretched strings of ice sickles
Medinal mushrooms formed in clusters
***** and distinct
My head was spinning from the odor
The silva garden’s sleeping spell overcoming me

A lightening bolt cracked outside
Splitting the sky into two
Toxic clouds steaming into the atmosphere


Phase Two:
Toxic air
The animals breathing in its chemistry
Their eyes growing wild
The barks leaping from their vocal chords
In short snaps at first
Then as the insanity ensues, stretched energy
Howling, growling, wild
Ravenous
The humans locking their doors

My heart still beating
Like a drum
Searching for silva
The garden encased like a giant glass box
Holding the plant that ends the storm
Me like a fish in a bowl, separated from the rest of the world
Trying to find the silva
To save it

My eyes searching
The silva daisy lying somewhere in this glass greenhouse
Each time, to be found in a different place
Like lightening, never striking in the same place twice
Silva never grows in the same place twice
Once plucked, reappears somewhere else
Wherever you would least suspect
Somewhere in this garden

My eyes dry and stinging,
My hair tangled and tired
My clothes with poked holes from where tiny droplets of acid rain hit
Raggedy
The poisonous plants begging me to touch them
Like Eve and the apple
The dirt has no daisy
No silva to be found
But then

The water pool
Cool and placid
Like a mill pond
I dive in
Silver catching my eye
The daisy, like any daisy
Except silver

Lying untouched at the bottom of the pond
My hand plucks it
I had dove in like a mermaid
I emerged like an animal
On a mission

I escape the greenhouse doors
I pluck the silva petals, scattering them into the rain
As a hungry dog approaches me, morphed like a wolf
Mid leap its teeth about to sink into my neck
The silva petals pressed flat by the rain into the concrete
The acid burning my skin


Phase 3:
And then
Relief
The rain sweet like lilacs and water
Me turning into circles as the dog presses me with wet sloppy kisses
The rainbow shining, an upside-down smile
The plants glistening and growing
The birds chirping, their voices light like silhouettes
The world in harmony
Children running out of their houses
The animals rolling in the grass, the woodlands

Me, standing, left holding the silver stem
Tears rolling down my cheeks
How many times would I have to do this?
My mouth like a bow
My hands like a lotus
How many times would I have to stop the chaos?
More tears


Phase 3: The Maker's Forest*
Then, giant hands scooping me up
My body the length of the pinky
The giant hands without arms
Stretched out to me from the sky

Carrying me
Across forests and fields
I peer over the thumb
Passing over deserts and oceans
A tiny breeze tugging at my hair
Sleep overtaking me
How many times will I have to stop the chaos?
Dissolving into my dreams
Like a tiny doll in my makers hands

I wake up in darkness
Except for a crack of sunlight, smiling in
I’m in a sphere enclosure
My hands tear at the two walls of the split
Breaking open the egg I was in
The soft segments of the shell lying in cracked pieces around me
I am in a nest, with three other eggs
A nest high up in a tree

I climb down the tree
Branch by branch
I am in the Maker’s forest
The Maker’s healing forest

I have heard before we have a Maker
But I never believed it
How could I
If we had a maker, why would our world keep falling apart
Why would I keep having to retrieve the silva daisy to remedy it

I walk down the forest path, getting closer to the sky blue cottage
The path is lined with evergreens, redwoods, trees tall and high
Filled with hundreds of nests and eggs

Phase 5: The Maker's Paint Studio
I open the white picket gate
And a painter emerges
Dressed in off-white overalls and an apron, carrying a brush with a tip of ruby pink paint
No words yet
Just sparkling blue eyes, shaggy grey hair, and old creased skin

I catch sight of myself in the reflection of a puddle and gasp
My lips are ruby pink like a bow
My skin is healed like porcelain
My hair is soft and silky, falling in waves down my summer dress
The whole forest is bright and shining

How did I come to look like this
How did I come to heal so fast?
Why is this forest so beautiful?

Come with me
The painter says
I step inside, the room filled with pallets of paint and aisles
The walls covered like canvases
In illustrations and images
The golden desert I passed over on one wall

The sparkling ocean whose breeze tugged my hair on the next
And on the canvas, me
I’m standing there, the silver stem in my hand
But the world around me, its not falling apart and dissolving

Its beautiful
I look at the painter
The chaos I say
I can’t take it anymore

I tell him
This world you paint
It pains me
Paint something prettier

Don’t ever paint a storm again
Why can’t you always paint the pretty picture on the canvas?

That’s the world I want to live in
But I do, the painter replies
His eyes kind

But I am not the only painter
He says looking at me

My illustrations, he smiles
The people I paint,
They can paint too
And the world you see,
Sometimes it’s the world you paint

You mean, the storm? I painted it?
He smiles
It wouldn’t be very fair if I was the only one allowed to paint now would it?
"How do I stop? How do I stop painting storms?
I don’t ever want to leave this pretty forest"

He faces a white canvas, starts painting a tiny girl
Sometimes what we see, he says
Its more of a reflection of what could be, of our minds eye, than what is really there
Storms do happen of course

But the storm you see and save
Is the storm of your mind
Let me ask you something
Are you afraid?

Yes, I reply
And what are you afraid of?
Well everything, I reply.
There is so much to be afraid of

Then that is what you are seeing, he says
Free yourself
Of all nonexistent time, of what could be and what was
And just be exactly where you are
And you will see things as they really are
Your paintings will add the beautiful details to my paintings

With that the, little girl, the one with the short brown hair and pink dress steps off the canvas
She smiles at us
And then opens the cottage door, her ruby lips and blue eyes taking in the forest around her, walking further into it

Phase 6: The Storm of your Eye
And then I’m back, with my hexagonal umbrella
Running to the silva garden
Acid rain splashing around me
Instead though, I stop
The world doesn’t need the silva, I hear my Maker say
The silva isn’t even real
I stop and close my eyes
Forget my doubts
And everything that could go wrong
I forget everything
The blood running through my veins, the splashing acid, the storming clouds
My minds goes blank

When I open my eyes
The world is quiet
Then I hear the sweet chirping of birds singing
Children playing

An old man walking his dog
“Looks like it might rain” he says, pointing to a far away cloud
I close my umbrella
I won’t be needing it*

~ JLH
Allania Berkey Mar 2016
The clock struck midnight
I was restless and thoughtful as could be
I noticed that I had been tossing and turning to a beat and rhythm that plunged above in the sky
It was a thunder-storm
bang, crash, thump
The sky illuminated in glory
Envy

The thunder roared and crashed in the middle of the night and the trees helplessly yearned for serenity
Ironic
It was calm earlier that day
Imagine
The breeze was right where it should have been and the sun was warmer than a hot skillet on a stove top
Peace
The sky was fostered in a pacific blue
And the clouds resembled dreams
Love
I remember it was 1:05 pm to be exact and I was feeling blissful
I decided to ride my bike through a quaint old town, two miles west of my house
Adventure
I stopped and stared at this little old man painting in the park
He was painting a tree, with pink, red, purple and gray
Odd
I couldn't help, but noticed how he was enticed by his surroundings
Interesting
I continued to bike away
It was now 2:45pm and I was feeling a bit famished
To the right of me stayed a cunning unforgettable coffee shop
I insisted to go in
Hesitation
Something about that coffee shop struck me that day, just like the little old man painting his introspection in the park
The room reeked in comfort and patience
Something I did not understand
Silence
Contemplatively, I bought a cup of coffee--black, I also companied that coffee with a blue berry scone--my favorite
I sat by the window to admire the sunlight and how the warmth cherished my skin
I sipped my coffee--startled
I noticed something peculiar about this coffee shop and this day
Instantly, I was left with an uneasy and unsettled feeling
Thoughtful
My black coffee was much more bitter than usual
It is as if the taste could not go down my throat
Something was wrong, I felt it
As I looked around the room everyone else was enjoying their cup of coffee
They also seemed to lack any hesitation
The tone in their voices create a harmonic rhythm in conversation
I noticed that every time they took a sip of their coffee they found it sweet, rather than bitter
I turned my head and looked out the window for a moment
Suddenly, I noticed that the sky was diminishing in its tints of blue
Wonder
I looked down at my watch
It was 3:35pm, I had to get home
I paid my bill and scurried onto my bike
Remember
The sky was calm throughout the entirety of the day
It was lovely and ideal--until it wasn't

No one expected a storm
No one expected disaster
But somehow, I did

I laid in bed that night waiting in anticipation
Waiting for my world to collide
Thunder and lighting seemed to have fought its way through the sky
Time
There wasn't enough
Concurrently, I felt bitter-- just like my cup of coffee in that cunning old shop
Ambiguity
I was left without answers
I was left without sugar and cream
creek, scratch, thump
The tree branch slid against the slide of my house
I noticed it all
It's starting
All the anticipation and anxiety I felt throughout the day was finally coming to its end or maybe to its start
The sky started to illuminate an illusion of sunlight
It was 11:30 pm and the day it almost to its end
I laid in bed thinking
I thought about my day and everything that it was missing
I notice it all
The little old man in the park painted a tree with a usual set of pigments, he defined ordinary, while sat alone comforted by the mere work of his creativity
The people in the coffee shop arrayed and encompassed patience, harmony and happiness
I was struck by discomfort because I unware of all those wonderful things
I knew all about the thunder and how it was provoked in the sky
I understood the lighting and its wish to shine
I thought of the beat and tempo that they would together make
Sometimes it was bitter, but sometimes it was sweet
I understood thunder and lighting
I understood why they danced viciously in the sky  
Finally, the clock struck midnight and it was now tomorrow
Fear
The storm was coming to its peak
The thunder fought its way with the lighting just as viciously written words floated on a piece of paper
The lighting struck back with ferocious and willful ambition
Relentless
The lighting held its ground, but didn't give up its hope
BANG
Memories
It was 1:05 am
The storm had reached its end
The thunder and lighting seemed to have parted their ways
Their fight was tortious
Nobody won, rather they both lost
It was 1:25 am
The rain had finally stopped
The trees have found their peace
It was 1:42 am
As I laid in bed, I thought about my day
I just want the storm to stop
Just like the the thunder and lightening, the little old man in the park and the people in that cunning old coffee shop, all have found their comfort and patience
The thunder and lightening have similarly found it in their bitter sweet good bye
It was wonderful
I noticed that as much as they fought throughout that darling midnight blue sky, they were attracted to their rhythm—A rhythm that was worth saving
The sweetness was found in their beat as they danced throughout the night
The thunder and lighting created a bittersweet combination
Just like the coffee I wish I would of had
A natural disaster that was intended to create a craze in the sky
The thunder wanted to be sweet, as did the lighting
Two peas in two different pods
Their negativity created the sweet appreciation of warm sunlight
I notice it all
The sun was the sweet
The day was calm
The thunder and lightening both knew it all too well
That night, the reminder of it anyways, I laid in bed and I knew that someday the storm would go away
It was 2:25 am and I finally shut my eyes
There's a storm brewing I can feel it
We feel it in our bones
There's a storm brewing I can sense it
We hear it when the cloud moans
The storm is getting closer
We can see the sky getting dark
The storm is drawing on us
We can see it making its mark
The storm is affecting our people
We can see a behavioural change
The storm is making us angry
We can see it making us strange
The storm has caused a disturbance
We can see things going wrong
The storm has left its poison
We are living its ugly song
SE Reimer Dec 2015
~

posted first in the Christmas season of 2014,  the original post script remains and speaks of my original motivation in writing this, but events just this week prompt my re-post, if nothing but as a reminder to all of us to look beneath the surface with intentionality and to see the pain that many walk in daily.  though they will shield it from uncaring eyes, they are likely to let in those who show they truly care.  and is not this, the truest, the finest, the greatest of Christmas gifts we could give such a one?

~

it is a storm approaching,
not the tempestuous kind
of driving rain or whirling wind,
but a storm all the same;
a mingling of sorts
a marriage that blends
my joy with my tears,
my hopes and my fears,
of death and of life,
of what has come
with what has not yet,
where photos and albums
and letters and cards
are all we can touch
of what has gone by.
 
yet there's a tree to light,
there are gifts to wrap,
their are cards to send
to loved ones dear;
while the hug that we wish,
the one we most want,
it's the one we can't give,
caught, in its grip,
this our loss has us,
has tied us in knots.
for memories and laughter,
their kindest words
and shouts of joy,
these are fading away,
and yet, they are all that remain.
joining us at the table,
these call in the park,
at Sunday Mass
and the post office,
but especially the back porch,
when it is quiet after dark.
these join us at parties,
where thoughts of our missing
joins the gay, happy greetings,
and on Christmas morn,
when gifts lie unopened,
their chair empty still,
at dinner a space
that no one ever will fill;
in its place is a candle,
a scent we know well,
a light we'll not extinguish;
perhaps it's the closest we can get
to their presence we so miss.

the storm on the inside
one that no one else sees;
as they stroll down the street,
as they shop merrily,
our hearts beat hard but quietly,
inside we are breaking,
this storm threatens to drown;
yet there is no one around
who can save us,
who ever would notice
or  knows how to care.
its the cry of our heart
that no one can hear.
our tears brushed aside,
hoping no one can see
this storm it is raging,
raging wildly in me.

i looked for a card,
my thoughts to express,
but the cards in the store
say nothing like this,
no words such as weeping,
or anguish are found,
no phrases with lonely or angry
in the Christmas card aisle.
so just how to reconcile
my juxtaposition?
how can I quell
this sense of foreboding
that i know all too well?
truth is, i cannot.
i must go through
with this marriage.
and pray that some day,
some day soon, I can hope
that i will awaken
to see sunshine again,
and consider these memories
not nightmares, but friends.

~

post script.
"blessed are those who morn, for they shall be comforted"  Matthew 5:4


*these are so many among us who mourn, in particular at what are otherwise joyous occasions.  for these ones, Christmas only adds to the acuteness of their pain.  for them, Christmas is a storm they know is coming, a time when they must prepare for, battening down the hatches of their soul, so they are assured their grief does not leak out on the joy of everyone around.  my advice for us all- know who walks near you well enough to reach out to them, give them a shoulder to weep on, share your tears with theirs. assure them you have not forgotten.  repeat the name of their loved one, a name they long to hear others speak.  for most of us, this name is one you cannot say too often. speak in the present tense of their loved one for they are not lost, they are still present and very much a part of the grieving one's life.  as just one of many examples, remember... a mother who has lost her only child is still a mother.  it is a title that she still bears, coming with all the burden, yet without any future benefit, these having been stripped away. love her, hold her, be shelter for her heart in the coming Christmas storm.
'The storm is in the air,' she said, and held
Her soft palm to the breeze; and looking up,
Swift sunbeams brush'd the crystal of her eyes,
As swallows leave the skies to skim the brown,
Bright woodland lakes. 'The rain is in the air.
'O Prophet Wind, what hast thou told the rose,
'That suddenly she loosens her red heart,
'And sends long, perfum'd sighs about the place?
'O Prophet Wind, what hast thou told the Swift,
'That from the airy eave, she, shadow-grey,
'Smites the blue pond, and speeds her glancing wing
'Close to the daffodils? What hast thou told small bells,
'And tender buds, that--all unlike the rose--
'They draw green leaves close, close about their *******
'And shrink to sudden slumber? The sycamores
'In ev'ry leaf are eloquent with thee;
'The poplars busy all their silver tongues
'With answ'ring thee, and the round chestnut stirs
'Vastly but softly, at thy prophecies.
'The vines grow dusky with a deeper green--
'And with their tendrils ****** thy passing harp,
'And keep it by brief seconds in their leaves.
'O Prophet Wind, thou tellest of the rain,
'While, jacinth blue, the broad sky folds calm palms,
'Unwitting of all storm, high o'er the land!
'The little grasses and the ruddy heath
'Know of the coming rain; but towards the sun
'The eagle lifts his eyes, and with his wings
'Beats on a sunlight that is never marr'd
'By cloud or mist, shrieks his fierce joy to air
'Ne'er stir'd by stormy pulse.'
'The eagle mine,' I said: 'O I would ride
'His wings like Ganymede, nor ever care
'To drop upon the stormy earth again,--
'But circle star-ward, narrowing my gyres,
'To some great planet of eternal peace.'.
'Nay,' said my wise, young love, 'the eagle falls
'Back to his cliff, swift as a thunder-bolt;
'For there his mate and naked eaglets dwell,
'And there he rends the dove, and joys in all
'The fierce delights of his tempestuous home.
'And tho' the stormy Earth throbs thro' her poles--
'With tempests rocks upon her circling path--
'And bleak, black clouds ****** at her purple hills--
'While mate and eaglets shriek upon the rock--
'The eagle leaves the hylas to its calm,
'Beats the wild storm apart that rings the earth,
'And seeks his eyrie on the wind-dash'd cliff.
'O Prophet Wind! close, close the storm and rain!'

Long sway'd the grasses like a rolling wave
Above an undertow--the mastiff cried;
Low swept the poplars, groaning in their hearts;
And iron-footed stood the gnarl'd oaks,
And brac'd their woody thews against the storm.
Lash'd from the pond, the iv'ry cygnets sought
The carven steps that plung'd into the pool;
The peacocks scream'd and dragg'd forgotten plumes.
On the sheer turf--all shadows subtly died,
In one large shadow sweeping o'er the land;
Bright windows in the ivy blush'd no more;
The ripe, red walls grew pale--the tall vane dim;
Like a swift off'ring to an angry God,
O'erweighted vines shook plum and apricot,
From trembling trellis, and the rose trees pour'd
A red libation of sweet, ripen'd leaves,
On the trim walks. To the high dove-cote set
A stream of silver wings and violet *******,
The hawk-like storm swooping on their track.
'Go,' said my love, 'the storm would whirl me off
'As thistle-down. I'll shelter here--but you--
'You love no storms!' 'Where thou art,' I said,
'Is all the calm I know--wert thou enthron'd
'On the pivot of the winds--or in the maelstrom,
'Thou holdest in thy hand my palm of peace;
'And, like the eagle, I would break the belts
'Of shouting tempests to return to thee,
'Were I above the storm on broad wings.
'Yet no she-eagle thou! a small, white, lily girl
'I clasp and lift and carry from the rain,
'Across the windy lawn.'
With this I wove
Her floating lace about her floating hair,
And crush'd her snowy raiment to my breast,
And while she thought of frowns, but smil'd instead,
And wrote her heart in crimson on her cheeks,
I bounded with her up the breezy slopes,
The storm about us with such airy din,
As of a thousand bugles, that my heart
Took courage in the clamor, and I laid
My lips upon the flow'r of her pink ear,
And said: 'I love thee; give me love again!'
And here she pal'd, love has its dread, and then
She clasp'd its joy and redden'd in its light,
Till all the daffodils I trod were pale
Beside the small flow'r red upon my breast.
And ere the dial on the ***** was pass'd,
Between the last loud bugle of the Wind
And the first silver coinage of the Rain,
Upon my flying hair, there came her kiss,
Gentle and pure upon my face--and thus
Were we betroth'd between the Wind and Rain.
JC Feb 2017
There is a Storm coming,
dark and violent
filled with death,
destruction,
pain
and tears.
There is a Storm coming,
fueled by heat,
anger,
pain
and fear.
There is a Storm coming
it has a face,
evil,
cold,
and frightening.
There is a Storm coming,
a deadly reckoning,
silent,
steady,
and  relentless.
There is a Storm coming,
an unyielding rampage,
savage,
ferocious,
and vengeful.
There is a Storm coming,
a howling wind,
crushing,
tearing,
and unrestrained.
A Storm is coming,
a giant wave,
rising,
falling
and murderous.
I AM the Storm,
I am here
burning,
drowning,
and retribution.
Afrodita Nestor Aug 2014
Storm is coming
The wind has whispered
Storm is coming
Let us hide

Storm is coming
The rain declared
Storm is coming
don’t get scared

Storm is coming
The thunder shouts
Storm is coming
I should know

The light has kissed me
The light has kissed me
Storm is coming
To set me free
***A love story between the thunder and the lightening ***
SE Reimer Dec 2014
~

it is a storm approaching
not the tempestuous kind
of driving rain or whirling wind
but a storm all the same
a marriage of sorts
of joy and of tears
of hopes and of fears
of death and of life
of what has come
with what has not yet
where photos and albums
and letters and cards
are all we can touch
of what has gone by.
 
yet there's a tree to light
there are gifts to wrap
their are cards to send
to loved ones dear
when the hug that we wish
the one we most want
is the one we can't give
this our loss has tied us in knots.
for memories and laughter
their kindest words
their shouts of joy,
these fade away
yet they’re all that remain
these join us at the table
these call in the park
at Sunday Mass
and post office,
but especially the back porch,
when it is quiet and dark.
they join us at parties
where thoughts of our missing
joins the gay, happy greetings
and on Christmas morn
when our gifts lie unopened
their chair is empty still
at dinner there's a space
that no one else will ever fill
in its place is a candle
a scent we know well
a light we'll not extinguish
perhaps it is the closest we can get
to their presence we so miss.

the storm on the inside
one that no one else sees
as they stroll down the street
as they shop merrily
our hearts beat hard but quietly.
inside we are breaking
this storm threatens to drown
yet there is no one around
who can save us
who ever would notice
or even know how to care.
its the cry of our heart
that no one can hear.
our tears brushed aside
hoping no one can see
this storm it is raging,
raging wildly in me.

i looked for a card
my thoughts to express
but the cards in the store
say nothing like this
no words such as weeping
or anguish are found
no phrases with lonely or angry
in the Christmas card aisle
so just how to reconcile
my juxtaposition?
how can I quell
this sense of foreboding
that i know all too well?
truth is, i cannot
i must go through
with this marriage
and pray that some day
some day soon, I can hope
that i will awaken
to see sunshine again
and consider these memories
not nightmares, but friends.

~

post script.
"blessed are those who morn, for they shall be comforted"  Matthew 5:4


*these are so many among us who mourn, in particular at what are otherwise joyous occasions.  for these ones, Christmas only adds to the acuteness of their pain.  for them, Christmas is a storm they know is coming, a time when they must prepare for, battening down the hatches of their soul, so they are assured their grief does not leak out on the joy of everyone around.  my advice for us all- know who walks near you well enough to reach out to them, give them a shoulder to weep on, share your tears with theirs. assure them you have not forgotten.  repeat the name of their loved one, a name they long to hear others speak.  for most of us, this name is one you cannot say too often. speak in the present tense of their loved one for they are not lost, they are still present and very much a part of the grieving one's life.  as just one of many examples, remember... a mother who has lost her only child is still a mother.  it is a title that she still bears, coming with all the burden, yet without any future benefit, these having been stripped away. love her, hold her, be shelter for her heart in the coming Christmas storm.
David Backer Jul 2011
They said the Storm was coming.
The sky was darkening, the sun was blotted out.
I heard only the wind, felt only rain on my naked body
The scent of the four winds permeated my nostrils
And I looked into your eye.
And I smiled.

They said the Storm was coming,
That the end is at hand.
And the children, eyes open wide with fear
Turned to their fathers, and their mothers,
To their sisters and brothers,
And they fled.

They said the Storm was coming.
I replied, “But there’s naught to fear!
These men will tell you nothing but lies!”
They turned to me, labeled me a heretic and a blasphemer
And they pierced me with ten thousand blazing swords
And I bled.

They said the Storm was coming.
So I fled from my home, taking nothing with me.
As I ran, the rains began to fall. Lightning rent the heavens asunder.
The glorious noise of thunder and water filled my soul
As I drank in the glories of what I beheld,
And I wept.

They said the Storm was coming.
And as the spirits of the Storm coursed through my veins
I remembered what those who pointed their fingers at me had said.
“The Storm is coming! It is not safe! Only with us can you truly live!  
Give us your silver and your gold, your sons and daughters, your staffs and your animals! The Storm is coming!”
But I am already here.
Sometimes you need to go against what others try to convince you is best, and you need to run away into the heart of the Storm to see why the Lightning seems so excited to be a part of it.
DEW Dec 2017
The city was laid bare:
like a patient upon the operating table
I walked the streets with precision
I was the scalpel carving communities from the fauna
the city was alive, and so it was truly sick
concrete jungle
projects and penthouses
the beleaguered old traipsed about, silent, but not quiet
the youth, rambunctious and carnal, feasted upon the dying
With each touch, I soothed the soul
Kisses, like antiseptic.
Lectures, like stitches.
Like cumulonimbus, the raucous ramblings of crowds grew
I said to myself, "It is fine, this is life, let it live."

Youth, ablaze with carrion wings, descend upon the old
beaks barrelling forward, pecking and snatching decency
still there are some who help
swooping down like proud eagles, they shoo away the scavengers
they beat back the tide of villainy
they shelter innocence, foster truth
but they are not enough...
I carve out the **** of corruption
I ventilate the lungs of the city and plug the punctures
but the pollution is virulent and stubborn...
Still, I say to myself, "This is poetry, love is a mystery, let them be."

I will hear them cry in the rain
I will not know my place
I might extend a hand, proffer an embrace, but
they will shy back,
for man will become monster
and God will become devil... in their eyes: deluded; poisoned by hate.
I will wonder where I went wrong.
Will I try my best to turn the helm against the wave,
go THROUGH the heart of the storm?!
Of course, I will try
I will try,
but I will fail.
Man will flaunt his freedoms, those which were freely given.
Despite my grief, I will say to myself, "All things have an end. There was nothing I could do."

I wonder to myself...
How many centuries have I folded my hands against the storm.
Behold! It's patience!
It will ever rise,
It will ever approach!
So long as man lies,
It will reach for his throat!
Man will always feign surprise,
It is a sickness he cannot broach...
As the color of morning skies is calming,
The fumes of the rumbling storm are maddening!

I always let the storm build until the lightning sets the world on fire
because
I thought the storm was man's voice in an inimical life...
But I was wrong, the storm is the beast that lurks in the shadows.
It sets the table for carrion.
The beast builds the cumulonimbus, preparing the kindling for the floods of war.

The storm's pallor stains man's skin so ubiquitously
That he mistakes the storm for himself.
The storm is the color of sin: six in total.

I wanted to breath about the idea of responsibility: culpability.
Watching the world burn paints you as the enemy.
We have to do something, even if we're not sure why, or for whom.

God is the people. He is the future.
He (the "Wholeness" of our (human) being) is what we strive towards:
The Perfection of Humanity
The Peace of our Souls
The Sustenance of our Planet
The Respect of All Life
The Beauty of Divine Soul in All our Works
The Tempered Passion of Truthful Expression
Love for, and Security in, Ourselves that Spreads into Love for the Community
Patience Under Hardship and Tolerance Under Misunderstanding

Without setting our goals upon improving humanity, we feel empty.
If we're not focused on being good people, why are we even here?

That's all for today...

Enjoy!

DEW
Luthando Thomas Mar 2016
I am storm rider
I am standing in the eye of a storm
It's gale winds tear apart my clothes
It's debris filled air clouds my sight
It's hollow sky whispers quiet words
It's slow advance follows my path?

I am storm rider?
My skin made of steel never falters?
Storm howls do not chafe even parts of me?
Floating rocks break when the touch me?
Fast winds cannot uproot my heavy trunk?

I am storm rider?
The storm around makes me lonely?
It tears apart those who reach to save me?
It tears apart those who wish to love me?
It tears them raw leaving nothing but bone?

I am storm rider?
So long i have lived in this solitude?
I cannot reach out and attempt life?
They cannot survive the storm around me?
The storm birthing from my own heart?

I am storm rider,
I am storms source?
I am home wrecker, life taker?
I am ground shaker, forest burner?
I am snow pawed solitary hunter,
Born and bred to be a loner
Would you look for me, even when I am not lost?
It was Christmas Eve, a Thursday
On the Northern Express Christmas Train
We were on our way north through the wilds
And our  destination was to be old Hornepayne

One hundred and eighty two people
Three kittens, one goat and nine dogs
Were riding up north on the railroad
Oh, I forgot to mention six hogs

There was snow coming in from the waters
Surrounding the bays, both Hudson and James
The engineer was prepared for a whopper
This would not be a time to play games

It was nineteen twenty in the year of our lord
The great war had been done for two years
These people were travelling homeward
To spend Christmas with those they held dear

The storm was gathering force over water
There was no way to safely arrive
They only had one option before them
If he wanted them all to survive

He pulled the train off on a side spur
They were not getting home safe tonight
But, the train, being old wasn't worthy
Of surviving the storm and it's fight

The conductor gathered up  all his courage
And he entered each car in their turn
He said "It looks like we're here for a while"
The storm looked real bad, as they'd learn

Remember it was nineteen twenty
The trains had no heat to keep warm
There was just an old stove and the engine
To keep them alive in the storm

The lines were down, so no message
Could be sent via morse code machine
They were stuck in the Ontario wilds
In a storm worse than they'd ever seen

They prayed and they sang hymns all together
Christmas carols and some all would know
As they sat, and they watched out the window
At the wind whipping, white sheets of snow

It was just after four when it started
Six hours in it was worse
One man, a fellow named Woolner
Said "we're stuck on a CP rail hearse"

The children were kept calm by their mothers
The men were watching as well
They were keeping an eye on the weather
They would not die in this frozen hell

It was just before midnight I reckon
When the storm broke enough to see out
The snow was now done and was over
Of this there was surely no doubt

Christmas Day...it was now after midnight
Some were sleeping while others were not
They had left to go start a fire
This was an idea given plenty of thought

The people awoke and they followed
To the fire to keep warm and still pray
They would make the best of a bad situation
Don't forget it was still Christmas Day

Christmas happens, it doesn't pick a location
It doesn't give a **** where you are
Christmas happens, and it gives a feeling
Of goodness, whether you're close or home is quite far

These people all stuck in the forest
Still a day or so from where they would go
Spent a Christmas with a whole bunch of strangers
some dogs, cats and hogs and a goat

Gifts that were destined for family
Were opened that night by the crowd
And the carols they sang in the forest
Shook the snow, they were singing so loud

The trees were lit up by the fire
Snow was covering branches up high
When they looked up into the dark heavens
And they saw the bright lights in the sky

The rainbow of colours was awesome
It shone brighter than bright in the sky
But one thing stood out in the distance
The one star that shone bright from on high

What was it that brought them together
Made them share this Christmas as one
Was it the storm that was the only reason
Or was there something else there that had come

The word came on out from the engine
The lines of communication were back
They should all get on back to their carriage
And he'd get this train back on track

When they all climbed aboard to get moving
Every seat had a package, all wrapped
No one saw who delivered the presents
As they were all in this outland, and trapped

Was it Santa come through to deliver
Their presents while they all went to pray
It's a question that no one can answer
It's a puzzle that remains to this day

If you ever go north on the railway
And you pass by the park near Hornepayne
Remember the big storm they encountered
And the magic on the Christmas Train
Ann M Johnson Aug 2015
I see the lightning flash across my screen
There is a storm brewing of that I am sure
This storm has no warning except notifications
I have to check this forecast
I may or may not see many notifications on my page this time
Of this I am sure there is a storm coming
A storm is brewing it is raining down creativity
I see the effects of this storm when I read your poems
The ideas are like tornado swirling in our minds
Instead of destruction our words take a toll, on others minds and souls
There is no need to take cover and hide from this storm
We have no cause for alarm
We can grab a pen or computer and play in this type of rain
Let creativity rain on us and may it reign in our minds
May we drown in the floods of inspiration
May we stay away from the clouds of doubt
I think the poetry storm is brewing, you can shout with joy when it rains on you!
This poem is revised and dedicated to all of you MY Hello Poetry Friends, my the Poetry Storm rain on you and Inspiration never end.
I greatly appreciate you all my friends and mentors, in poetry we are united.
Shay-za-di Apr 2014
once there was a lonely rock,
in the middle of a rocky shore.
sure, there were other rocks around,
but this rock was different,
and didnt get along with the other rocks.

then along came a storm,
the storm was loud,
the storm was flashy,
the storm made sense and the storm was strong.

the lonely rock weirdly found these things soothing
and immediately found itself a friend.

but the storm was a storm,
it went away as soon as it came.
and again there sat a lonely rock,
in the middle of other rocks, waiting for the storm.
who is the storm i really do not know any more.
Ellie White Dec 2013
I used to compare you to a hurricane,
I used to describe what we had as something like a giant, destructive ring,
With a calm, seemingly odd centre,
I used to tell people, that when things were good, and going strong,
That we were in the centre, we were in the eye, and we had nothing to worry about because we had found the calm in the storm,
I was told to not compare us to something that is notorious for being destructive,
Because I was told that we were in fact, the opposite of that,
I was told that you were not a hurricane, and you were not the centre of the storm,
Instead, you were pure calm, and pure safety, likened to summer nights and sunsets,
As I grew wiser, I likened us to a hurricane more and more,
As the months passed, and we trickled through the cracks more and more,
It became more apparent to me that, we were not a summer sunset,
We were a hurricane,
When things were good, we lived in the centre of the storm,
We had calm, and peace and we did not have to worry about the mass destruction going on around us,
However, like a hurricane, storms move quickly and safe havens in the centre change,
The only mode of survival to keep your place in the eye of the storm is to adapt,
To move quickly with the change and the direction of the storm,
So we tethered ourselves to each other, so that even if we were on opposite sides of the calm,
Too far to touch,
Too far to see,
We were still connected so that if the storm moved, we could move with it together,
The funny thing about hurricanes though, is that they move quickly,
And sometimes you do not always see them changing course and direction,
So in the midst of our perfectly calm centre, we were thrown off course, and thrown in opposite directions, our tether which was keeping us together, tangled and weakening,
In the midst of the storm, and our calm being thrown off you got scared because this was the worst it had ever been,
And our tether was so damaged, and so strained that it felt like we would always be too far to touch, and too far to see,
You took, action, you cut me off, severing our tether and suddenly, we were not in the safe place in the centre of the storm,
We were thrown in opposite directions, into the destructive, black swirling rings that we had avoided with such courage,

And so here I am, beat up, black and blue, trying to find my way back into the centre of the storm,
Silently praying that maybe you are too.

EMW.
Edward Sep 2019
Into the Storm,  I fall in order to die once more to self.
Into the Storm, God has place me again to humble me.
Into the Storm, for this is my learning ground here.
Into the Storm, I live each day until I repent of sin.
In the midst, I must face the evil that I have unleashed.
In the midst, I must face the truth of all that has happened.
In the midst, I shall stay till I have become an changed man.
In the midst, I shall allow Christ to transform me today.
Out of the Storm, an much stronger warrior I am now.
Out of the Storm , Christ allows since I am humbled now.
Out of the Storm, I am now since I finally living in Gods will.
Out of the Storm, I am now and my life has completely changed.
[December 21, 2010]

Thunder roars in the distance
His sense of loneliness deepens
He wishes he could feel emotion
But Animal knows only instinct
He senses the approaching storm
And with it, the wrath of God
The animal tries to escape from his fury
But instead
Is consumed in his own living hell
 
The Animal cannot stop
The rampage
It tries to survive
But cannot
It wants to end its hunger
But cannot catch its prey
It tries for love
But feels none
 
The clouds start to swell
With the sorrow of a thousand tears
She cries
She feels the mist in her heart
The ground at her feet
Her beauty is unmatched
But it will not save her
She turns around
And sees the storm coming
She knows she cannot escape her destiny
For she is destiny’s child
 
The clouds roll over her
They embrace her
Consume her
From the darkness of the storm
The animal appears before her
And like the sun in all its fiery fury
He pulls her into the storm
Hoping to end the hunger
That consumes him
  
Into the darkness they go
Forevermore
They sink lower and lower
Forevermore
To the darkest region of the abyss
Forevermore
Into the heart of the storm
Forevermore
Their fates collide
Nevermore
 
The animal consumes her in his wrath
Sorrow meets with anger
She becomes part of the creature
Neither living, nor dying
The animal knows by instinct
The storm is almost over
He knows and embraces it
 
Lightning flares in the sky
As the Animal begins to die
A new life is created in the heavens
Dampening the wrath of God
The Animal senses his own destruction
And finally starts to feel her emotion
Her sorrow and his anger fuse
 
The beast beats upon the storm
Backing anger into a corner
The Animal beats upon the storm
And starts to fade
The creature beats upon the storm
And the clouds shatter into rain
The boy and her soul within beat upon
The last remaining tendrils of the storm
And reveal to the world
A light brighter than the fury of
“The Animal”
Author Note: First poem I wrote, back in high school.

The Animal [December 21, 2010]
Category: Fiction
A story about a man trying to find himself. Lost within his emotional turmoil, he becomes “the animal”, a person consumed by his sorrow and anger. Seeking friendship and love, he confides his emotions within a woman, ultimately freeing himself from the darkness within him
Richard Simunac May 2012
I. For Love

For love has found me,
Resting under an old willow tree.
Gazing at the stars, glistening, glowing, love's purest art.
The echoes of an ancient melody written in the sky,
The memories of those who were destined to die.
For they had dared to dream of an ocean serene,
Filled with beauty and passion in the heart unseen.
So with fire in their soul and light in their eyes,
They were led by sweet music as starlight disguised.
And when they heard deep lullabies sung by stars up above,
They had finally found peace in their quest for love.

For a dream has found me,
Aching, silent, wondering, why?
Was I not one who was destined to die?
Like roses that bloom and try to reach the light,
My hands shall grasp and seek without sight
A burnt out love that had once been so bright...
But I found no respite in the coolness of night.
With the sky clouded and murky, no stars here would gleam,
Like the cold lifeless trees that winter picks clean.
I would have been left with only memories of the stars I had seen,
Were it not for the melodies found in a dream.

For winter has found me,
Aching for a summerset breeze.
Love, once mine, was now lost at sea.
The path laid before now only a memory.
Lost and alone I sought with despair,
The meaning of life in winter's cold air,
But the chill in my bones was too much to bear.
As I laid there in silence I soon discovered,
Out of the shame and guilt I had kept hidden and covered,
The songs in my heart that would have faded and withered,
Were blossoming like flowers in the cold of that winter.

For love has found me,
Waiting under an old willow tree.
I had been patient and faithful, and finally found peace.
By listening to my heart and the words that it gave me,
I found that the soul is deeper than the sea.
And when I heard deep lullabies sung by stars up above,
I knew surely one day a cadence would come.
Although rich and full it would be sadly sung,
Not for sorrow, or pain, but surely, for love.



       II. Take Me Away

Take me away in the wind of a melody,
Take me away from the clouds that cover me.

As the tide rolls in from darkness,
The moon shines on waves of silver crests,
And the current cascades into my soul.

A sudden gale rises from the sea,
It's chill consumes my entire being,
And my heart sings to just let go.

Take me away to a cadence sung in dreams.
Take me away in the harmony of the sea.

A story written in the darkness of the deep,
A song in the sky - an ancient melody.

Wildflowers sway softly in the morning breeze,
A sunrise.
The meadow's cool touch draws me to sleep -
Amidst the willow trees my soul finds peace.

The storm seems to call a melody from the sea,
The thunder awakens me from my summer dreams.
I long to find a midnight breeze..
For the breath of the stars to come and carry me.
Away from the tempest that stirs in me,
The tidal storm threatening my bravery.

Wildflowers glow warmly in the afternoon sun,
A reminder of the things I've overcome.
The sound of wind-swept melodies from an ocean serene,
Resonates amid the sea of evergreen.

But a darkness hangs over my dream,
A misty tide come to take away the stars I have seen.

Rain falls down on me,
Weeping clouds drown out my every plea.
The whisper of a melody too faint to hear,
The storm of the symphony now buzzing in my ears.
Tear-stained words I can no longer say,
The longing for a cadence to take me away.

Wildflowers glow faintly in the evening light,
A sunset come to take me into the night.

Take me away to the willow tree,
Where the stars echo an ancient melody.

Take me away, in the storm of a symphony.



       III. A Cadence Sadly Sung

Alone at sea,
I long to leave but your eyes captured me.
Waves crash on me,
The stormy seas will not leave me in peace.
Clouds cover me,
The stars that led me now fall to the sea.
Now you remain,
Your voice a storm's dark refrain that marks
A cadence sadly sung.

Songs reside in my heart,
Fill me with hope like blooming roses,
Wait until the moon was new and sun was high.

Inside my heart,
Deep, dark,
Diamond so pure inside,
Never given the chance, never the dream,
Secrets of life remain unseen,
In broken hearts that led me to fall.
And in that smile that had started it all.
Without a word,
Without a whisper, a call or a plea.
But you somehow have brought me
down to my hands and my knees.
But you somehow found your way
into the story of me.

And now you remain,
like a storm's dark refrain,
Passion and thunder.
And the story goes on,
Like a never-ending song,
A cadence sadly sung.
The text for my symphonic piece titled "The Storm", written in 3 parts. I wrote the piece, and the text, backwards. The first section I wrote last, and the last section is what I wrote first. There's a link to the MIDI simulation of the piece in my About Me section.. thanks for reading and listening :)
Lunar Apr 2014
from rain,
should i turn into a storm?
howling like the wind,
making noise,
to get you to hear me?
more raindrops; more tears,
to make you feel
drenched in remorse?
harsher and faster,
much like a hurricane,
to get you to see
how messed up i am?
when i'm stronger
like the storm,
would you love me more?
The second part of 'love the rain—love me'.

(j.m.)
Elizabeth P Jul 2014
Times of trouble
Test us through the days
Hardship and worry
Rise in many ways

And with all this lightning
And all this rain
You either lose it all
Or have much to gain

Because this storm
It will pass
And this life
Won't always last
The storm will always pass

And when the skies turn black and gray
And all your hope is gone
Just think to yourself
Tomorrow's a new day!

Because this storm
It will pass
And this life
Won't always last

This storm will pass
Yes the storm
The unforgiving horrifying storm
It will surely pass!

Yes the storm will surely pass...
gr Jul 2014
Life is like a series of storm clouds waiting to pass.

You can predict where they're coming from and when they'll be here.

But when the time comes it is quite a surprise because your storm cloud still has yet to arise.

You may not be aware of what the cause was, but when the lightning hits you are immediately in a state of hysteria.

The storm is continuous and once you're in the eye, you think the pain of whatever it was has dissipated into the dark sky.

Little did you know that that was just the beginning of a series of storm clouds that are still winning.
This is my first poem, so please bare with me.

— The End —