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gracie Feb 2018
lightning flash across the sky
silver clouds begin to cry
our clothes are cold and soaking wet
but we don't run inside just yet

if I said I'm ready now
darling, would you show me how
to blindly run through fields, unplowed
until the thunder roars?

fire races through my spine
warm hands meet my cold waistline
let's dance together, intertwined
like flowers in a storm
only an innuendo if u want it to be
Carter Ginter Jun 2013
I think of you every time I hear thunder.
I remember your fear of the trembling noise
And the discomfort it puts you in.
I remember those late night storms,
Those countless hours I spent talking with you just to make sure you were alright.
And you still don't know anything about me.
Spenser Bennett Mar 2016
Within the flower exists peace
Within our hours seek the heat
These bricks will crumble
Those words will tumble
Like water in the falls
Lonely wolf calls
I'm so tired of being alone
You've been gone for far too long
Honey, come home

All this time I've been waiting
These days, so lonesome with wasting
The flash of you that illuminates the room
My darkness will be broken soon

Fearless and free, the day you left me
A single petal sat, cool and settled
Fearless and free, the day you left me
Roots dug in deep, heart propelling your wings to beat

Inverse temples reside in my heaving chest
Distorted order rises from your best
Call to arms those little wonders
Let 'em teach us how to thunder
Another rewrite. Pay no mind.
She fell:
into my arms,
like raindrops
at my feet,
but no:
not the tiny type
that proceed the storm,
like the plump generous kind
that fall,
and let you know
that you're in the beginning and the middle of the deluge
half way in, and you can't go no farther -
type of rain.

Lighting up the night sky
of my life
with spiderwebs of purple lightning
she rolled like distant thunder,
while her waves of water
made everything brand new
again.
Umi Feb 2018
The nightsky is alike a mighty mansion of the stars which then
twinkle in elegance, beauty and transience until the dawn outshines them in a graceful manner.
As the night turns away from the sun and from her light, danger
in our imagination could await, from the corners of our very mind.
Yet the stars make up a soft blanket, a cover of the calmest of light,
which could bring peace to a soul which is performing a rampage.
All the constilations, all the names and forms which reveal themselves, are but a heavenly spectra for those who are nocturnal.
Or for those, whom have meet the cruel fate to be allergic to the natural, straight forward, warming and blissful sunlight.
There is no soul with no protector, in the nightsky such would be
a bright,piercing star, standing proud,manifest its location is over you
Holding many wonders, the beauty of the night comes with shooting stars, which at times shortly sweep over the heaven before fading.
Wishes are made upon, hope fills their hearts, for a better future
or a fulfilment of their desires, tangled up within the depth of mind.
Night becomes bright once the moon shines, in its fullest posture.
Becomes dark once the rainclouds drive near, calling in thunder.
But most importantly, it is a time of rest, from all this earth beholds


~ Umi
Sally A Bayan Jun 2018
Something caught me off guard, that hot day,
an unexpected thunder roared its presence,
violent...continuously rose in volume...
the throbbing...the thumping...the
pounding intensified...while swarms of red
and pink fragments simultaneously emerged,
and skillfully created arcs...becoming orbs,
multiplying, spreading...merging...then
shaping into rounds, like atoms...combining,
revealing...bearing a scary realization...
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::­::::::::::::::
suddenly, arms and hands felt cold,
thunder softened...waned...arcs and orbs stilled,
chest started to rise and fall, peacefully.......yet, here i am,
anticipating a next time...when thunder roars anew...

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
   June 19, 2018
...heart palpitations yesterday,while far from the house,
tried capturing the images...the feeling...
The sky is crying,
So am I,
The anger and the tears,
Burried deep inside me,
Like rain, in a beautiful cloud.

Well you see the thing with rain is,
once it starts it also stops,
mostly quick after,
Luckily for us.

In that respect,
Humans are just like clouds,
We cry,
Stop,
Leave,
And repeat.

But when you're finished raining,
The worst is yet to come.

They say that after rain,
There's a ray of sunshine.

But what if the sunshine never came,
If the clouds decide to stay.

If there is only anger,
And the clouds won't go away
Then you get only thunder,
The anger of the sky.
just a little something, a feedback would be appreciated!
Jesse stillwater May 2018
An earth sized boulder
dislodged with the thunder
Unleashing catacombs  
of terrestrial darkness
lay compressed beneath it
for a thousand years

The hidden ancients
heard its soul hold forth;  
their rumbling silence
    ―  laid bare ―
They heard its voice
rises up with the ears
of a new-born fawn

Beguiling roots,
solid as a rock,
hold together
like dark matter
A soul weight
beyond measure
shouldering the torn
of a divided heart

Heaviness ...
O' the heaviness ―
just a platitude for
what you feel
when it all comes
tumbling down
to the ground

Venerable
times immemorial:
an urging silence
pushing down
to the grave,
trying to unlearn
the things
never known
about the hearts
we leave behind


Jesse Stillwater
01  May  2018

Out of the silence of earthen soul, musing much more than gravity
em Jun 2015
You're my storm cloud disguised as sunshine
but your masquerade never stops the rain.
Laughs like lightning flashing across your face
sharp and dangerous, followed by the thunder of
my ignorance, cluing you in on how far your lies
stretch into my desperation to be wanted.

Lightning.
Thunder.
Oh I never thought
I was that funny
Your electric strings
Pull the punch lines out of my mouth.
Thunder.
The lightning's best friend.

Thunder.
You must really like me
You must have told your friends about me too.
Because that cackles coming out of their
throats when I tell a joke sound just like
the storm, the zigzags of fire that tear through the clouds.
telling me how funny I am, how much they love having me around.
How you need me.
Time for my response… its my job right?
Thunder.

Thunder.

Why is it now that the way you curl your lips
when I make my jokes
looking
less
and less
like a smile?
Your friends know that shape
and they know how to make their lips look the same way.
Is it some contagious thing that they all have, and disease
passed around the room every time that lightning escapes.
But they all think I am funny
It must just be a friend thing…
I should learn how to do it too.
Thunder.

Thunder.

Streaming pixels
Blurry faces of “friends”
it must have been a mistake
The love me
next time,
I’ll make sure to clear it up with them
why wouldn't they want me to attend?
Thunder.

Thunder.


Glances like knives
Darting through the air like flies
and infestation of insects that
carry messages that
I don’t understand.
But they do.
Like a major league team
catch after catch
never missing those eyes that
seem a little bit darker
and a little bit colder.
Passing the ball around the bases
returning the favor.
Why can’t I grip ball that seems to bind
them all together
leaving trails of
text messages
and parties
that I was not invited to
this ball that seems to always
keep me on the outfield.
And how come everytime that ball goes
around
and
around….
its feels like
a punch to the stomach
never ceasing to knock me
down
and
leave me
breathless.


This must be what friendship feels like…
Thunder.


Is it?
because I look around
these hallways
where I always walk to fast
trying to keep up
yet I am always
one
step
behind.
I see that
these other girls
walk in straight lines
arms joined so that no one
falls
too
far behind
yet I’m always walking in
dizzy circles
wondering when they will
turn around to see if I am
still following,
still standing,
still funny.

Thunder, the lightning's best friend…
but that is never who I was to you.
another spoken word that I preformed today and will preform on wendsday in front of a larger audience, my entire grade oh goodness.
this poem although open to interpretation does have some format that means something. So the lighting represents laughter and the thunder kinda represents be being clueless to the people laughing AT me not with me. That's at least how I mean it to be understood, but If you see it another way that that's cool too :)
Ashley Black Jun 2017
Inspiration in life
is a bit like thunder at night
A rather loud reminder that
the world doesn't care
if you're sleeping.
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
Smoke rises to greet
The distant veil of storm-clouds
Over silent streets.
A haiku about a brewing storm.
#14 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
The raindrips are dropping outside for a change,
some way I still feel them draining through my decrepit veins.

Thunderous applause for the storms that wage,
The wars that I've paid for with my strayful ways, day after day.

Come now,
Come play in the swaying waves forming aside my imminent lines,
The ones that play and play on,
Bouncing and rebounding around inside my mind(s).

Tip, typing away,
Fueled by the fires outside this time.
Each of these rampant keys seal away the pains that fray these frail heartstrings.

Filling the gutters with the utterances that speak the futile fightings,
Flying through the air,
With the nimbus lighting my way through the faintest of nighttime scenes,
Hoping these barely discernable dreams are the ones that will bring me through the day.

Easing my restless heart with the chaos rains that thunder and pour,
They sway my mind to sleep.

Pray,
that it will all be over soon,
or perhaps,
even today.
Joanna Jun 19
The colors of the rainbow that once shined bright have changed,
to a third dimension that hides at night.

The wings of an eagle, so wild and free, live deep in the heart
of me.

The waves of the ocean that have created such a storm have
been silenced, so that peace can be reborn.

Thunder and lightning have been subdued, and a beautiful butterfly has emerged, in a time of renewal.  

Reflecting on all of this has created a moment that can not be defined.  Revealing a hidden garden that grows lush in time.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
RBWhite Apr 11
She soars in a black horse in the death of night,
All the elements are chasing her,
Running faster than time and light,
But nothing can reach her lust for faustus stars,
In a moment,a cruel lightning busts out of her scalp where her mind used to shine,
Her hair rains heavy drops of blood,
A woman made of doom and dust,
Not won or lost,
But she remains to be a legend among Known Gods.
This poem belongs to my poetry series BLACKXPOETRY,Enjoy!!
S Nirmal Kumar Oct 2018
Blinding flashes of lightning
Deafening claps of thunder
Unflinching, mushrooms sprout in my backyard
Marla Apr 11
Thunder roared through the night
                     As our hopes and dreams were


Isolated

s t a r v e d

&

Hal/ /ved.
Cassia Oct 2018
I'm like a rose of softened white
Where rain falls from the sky
I live and grow and sing my tales
Do you hear my tattered sigh?

You're a storm of frightening beauty
That I fear will pass from sight
Your lightning strikes and shows my face
As I gaze upon your might

You rule all else and raise me up
As I reflect your light
But your turmoil reigns and so your power
In the wind is lost and dried

And so you cry, and I catch your tears
But I'm crushed and stolen away
Take your revenge but do move on
Do not grieve for a flower of pain.
Oof. Changes had to be made. Apologies.
The sky crackles and I feel the most alone.

Just like that day in the woods.

My special place was off the trail, but he couldn't have known me,

I was so young and such an idiot,

Not everyone is genuine but I was so trusting,

I can still smell the sickening mixture of fresh-fallen rain,his sweat, the mud around the creek and salt from my tears.

With every atmospheric collision from the sky
my stomach churns tasting the blood in my mouth from his fist thundering against my tear stained cheeks.

When the wind blows  
I can still feel his callous hands bruising and exploring my unwilling body, and scraping against
the most intimate parts of me.

The lightning is when I remember the rock that found my desperate palms and crashing against his temple

The wind howls and the rain finally starts to fall then, near my belly button burns just like it did when the blade he swung wildly cut me before I could run and the water is my heartbeat pounding  in my ears,
but I can hear him behind me
The rush If my blood reminding me I’m still alive mind begging me to stay that way, his threats pushing me further

Head pounding ,body burning,
I burst through my front door

And then I start to cry
Rain storms are actually very hard for me to get through due to some other traumas but the storm that passed when I wrote this smelled like that day. Thunder really triggers me especially when I'm alone I used to cry in school when it thundered in the weeks after this incident but then I started to internalize it and I'd just be really quiet on those days. Trigger Warning, ****, molestation, violent attaked on a minor.
Kaity Mar 29
I am of the wild

I am thunder, and rain, and absolute chaos

I was raised to run with wolves

And I will not be rearranged by the hands of man

I am a butterfly flitting across your nose

Hair of vine, of wind, of water

Unbound by gravity, melting into the golds and greens of the forest

I tear down homes with my hurricane

I rage like wildfire

Bathing and dancing in the moonlight

I lift up my chin, calling out to the nature around me

I protect the things the rest of the world forgot

Snails and slugs and broken flowers

My eyes hold the moon and stars

They twinkle with madness

I am an oak tree

Branches and roots tangle between the feet of men

I am the wind slipping through the world

Undetected leaving my mark if you know where to look

I knew what I was doing when

I invited the wild in
The uniVerse Jun 2018
Beauty lies bereft and bound
it cries for help but utters no sound
mascara kisses fade from your lips
etched by lovers worn fingertips
purple rings around sullen eyes
the broken skin it never lies
fists of thunder make not the man
nor the swift strike of back of hand
a thousand apologies can never repair
the displacement of a single hair
for she is not an object for you to own
she is a Queen that deserves a throne
and if she allows you to enter her chamber
it's also her decision if you should remain there.
her beauty is boundless
and cannot be tamed
all those who try
should be shamed

***** I have shared my poems on this website now since 2015 and this is my first daily, it has been a privilege and I appreciate all the lovely comments <3 *****

https://www.instagram.com/p/BpaxPgdFnQu/
Jeremy Rascon Mar 2018
You are a storm.
Off in the distance..
I can see the dark brooding clouds
The energetic flashes of lightning
I can see the veil of rain..
But you are off in the distance..
I can't hear the crack of thunder or feel it's mighty rumble beneath my bare feet..
I can't smell the rain as it hits the hot earth..
I long for the monsoon in my dry land..
But the winds take you elsewhere
You are a storm.
A brutish force of nature
Beautiful in your chaos..
Your lightning may strike,
You can create fire.
Your rains may flood,
You can carve rivers.
But always..
Life thrives in the aftermath of your destruction.
You are an artist.
And I admire from the distance.
Rizna M Rameez Dec 2018
Allah lights up the skies
So the rain can see where it's falling
Do you think
Allah will not light up your life
So that you can see where you're heading?
26.12.2018
Vellichor Jun 4
Sometimes I have to wonder
Who would I have been
Had lonely days of torture
Not left white marks on my skin

Was I always doomed to be
A broken girl with a broken heart
Or did somewhere along the way
I make a choice to fall apart

Would I have been happy
And would I have been whole
Would I have not lost
All the things this struggle stole

Would I have known sorrow
Would I have known pain
Would my heart have worn
This repulsive ****** stain

I would’ve held together
I wouldn’t have fallen apart
And maybe there’d be a delicate
Sort of beauty to my heart

But the person I would have been
Would’ve been far too weak
Not able to live through the struggle
Unable to find words to speak

Kept quiet by her life’s perfection
Silenced by her world’s clear skies
Pacified with fluffy clouds
Never to hear her own heart’s cries

Now I’ll be hurt, and I’ll be broken
But I’ll wear my scars like jewels
And today I know what they
Can’t seem to teach in schools

I know just how to come alive
I know how to live through this rain
And isn’t it dangerous that
I know how to live with pain

I won’t be silenced anymore
Because my fluffy clouds turned black
I lost the battle to win the war
And I’m done looking back

I’m not who I could have been
And when I start to wonder,
I remind myself, only under dark clouds
Are there roars of thunder
Girard Tournesol Nov 2018
The bamboo forest favors impermanence
Flower petals, thunder, snow flakes
So let the time traveling tourist tell us
We will have something to say about this, later
National Sucide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. May you walk each step in the garden of resurrection.
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