"thunderbolts" poems
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Once, when my triumphs rolled
Along old Rome and blood of roses washed
The battle-stains from off my chariot-wheels,
And triumph's thunders round my legions roared,
And kings in kingly ******* golden bound
Shook at my charger's foot, past the hot din
Of Victory-whose heart of golden pride in wound
Most subtly through with fire of subtlest pain-
My soul on prouder pinion rose above
The Roman shouting, to an air more clear
Than that Jove darks with hurtling thunderbolts,
Or stains with Jovian revels-that separate sphere,
Unshared of gods or man, where thy white feet
Caught their sole staining from my ruddy heart,
Blazing beneath them; where, when Rome looked up,
'Twas with the eyes close shaded with the hand,
As at some glory terrible and pure,-
For no man being pure, a terror dwells
Holy and awful in a sinless thing-
And Caesar's wife, the Empress-Matron, sat
Above a doubt-as high above a stain.
Nay! how know I what hell first belched abroad
Tall flames and slanderous vomitings of smoke,
Blown by infernal breathings, till they scaled
Thy throne of whiteness, and the very slaves
Who crouched in Roman kennels wagged the tongue
Against the wife of Caesar: 'Ha! we need not now
And opal-shaded stone wherewith to view
A stainless glory.' In that day my neck
Was bound and yoked with my twin-Caesar's yoke-
Man's master, Sorrow.
I know thee pure-
But Caesar's wife must throne herself so high
Upon the hills that touch their snowy crests
So close on Heaven that no slanderous Hell
Can dash its lava up their swelling sides.
I love thee, woman, know thee pure, but thou
No more art wife of Caesar. Get thee hence!
My heart is hardened as a lonely crag,
Grey granite lifted to a greyer sky,
And where against its solitary crown
Eternal thunders bellow.
3.7k
In seventh grade I watched my friend bleed out
Holding what was left of his leg, he whispered, "This isn't good."
They say that the human body contains eight pints of blood
I counted nine.
When you were born, no one knew.
No one knew how intense the galaxy inside of you was.
How each star would illuminate your eyes,
and how you would illuminate mine.
In tenth grade,
my dad didn't talk to me for three months.
I didn't know who I was for three months.
My light became darkness as his love became emptiness.
Father, love me the way I love you. I pretend not to,
please be the same way as me.
Your heart grew faster than my hands, brother.
I hope someone loves you more than I.
For I am what you are, everything without and within,
forever and without the night.
Mother,
do you feel what I feel? Do you see what I see?
Am I what you imagined, more or less?
Do my words matter? Does my heartbeat pound alone?
Do you love me?
You are what illuminates my eyes, Queen Anne's Lace.
With or without, from your eyes to mine,
silence with noise, electricity moves throughout
yet I am calm. You are what I know,
and all that should be known is that
you deserve to be happy.
In twelfth grade my father tried to stab me.
If he was successful, it wouldn't have been the first time
one of his actions got past the surface level.
It's not your fault, burning rainbow on the water.
Adaptation without reclamation I find you in my translation
as hurt yet elation. Mother.
My kaleidoscope,
so soon,
mirroring colors and shape.
Am I looking at myself?
I don't care if you don't comprehend, the words I say or how I end.
And if you don't understand the words that pass,
your eyes, like your heart, are transparent glass.
Taste throughout, with blood mixed in, the way I beat has always been
to know, to show, to allow what I see now to be seen,
may I know what I let go is what I'll always mean.
Thunderbolts from your mouth, good luck to me because I am shocked.
There is no lock. There is no lock. There is no lock.
I live throughout different years, with evolving eyes without resolving fears.
I've been afraid. I've been lost.
Kaleidoscope.
No longer, no more.
My heart is an open door.
Blood stained pants.
Hands without.
With every word,
every shout.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
Too lazy to decipher scrawl,
she took to typing.
But graphite gratified,
thunderbolts struck her empty.
Nostalgic for
the soothing scratch of pencil
as a child cloistered,
shuffled between states,
who translated her life
to pass the days.
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Travelling royalty, a princess with no home;
Inspiring love and loyalty, everywhere she goes.
A radiant smile, captivating eyes,
Flagrant beauty, the kind that never dies.
A lover of life, an enchanting presence,
An overflowing fountain, wonderful decadence.
The princess met the peasant –
A man from a land where very little is pleasant.
Clawed a path out of the dirt,
Flawed, yet always hungry for answers,
An explanation as to why we’re all scarred and hurt.
Temptation incarnate, freedom given life –
Impartial, a storm about to deliver strife.
It was a spark worthy of Zeus’ thunderbolts;
Worlds apart, yet tolerant of each other’s faults.
Equals in their intellect, conjoined at their hearts;
Immediate and mutual respect,
Together, they could make the seas part.
The peasant got blessed by the divine,
The princess was impressed by the sublime.
Her, with her presence,
Him, with his essence –
Two people who, despite their charms, don’t fit anywhere else.
They found shelter in each other’s arms,
A respite from their personal hells.
Yet, the princess needed to journey once more,
An ending to a story that leaves the heart sore.
The peasant lay there, looking at his fields,
Reminiscing, bitterly sipping comfort in a glass.
He could do naught but shed tears, and think:
‘I’d give up every harvest, all my work and what it yields,
To have you by my side; you gave me peace and strength,
You made me feel like I can bend swords and crack shields.’
The princess could only stare,
Right at where his hand once held hers;
She could only think of the dare,
The night where they both let down their hair,
And think:
‘I’d give up the road, all my walks and journeys,
To have you by my side; you gave me sweetness and kindness,
You made me feel loved, breathless and weak in the knees.’
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
On almost the incendiary eve
Of several near deaths,
When one at the great least of your best loved
And always known must leave
Lions and fires of his flying breath,
Of your immortal friends
Who'd raise the organs of the counted dust
To shoot and sing your praise,
One who called deepest down shall hold his peace
That cannot sink or cease
Endlessly to his wound
In many married London's estranging grief.
On almost the incendiary eve
When at your lips and keys,
Locking, unlocking, the murdered strangers weave,
One who is most unknown,
Your polestar neighbour, sun of another street,
Will dive up to his tears.
He'll bathe his raining blood in the male sea
Who strode for your own dead
And wind his globe out of your water thread
And load the throats of shells
with every cry since light
Flashed first across his thunderclapping eyes.
On almost the incendiary eve
Of deaths and entrances,
When near and strange wounded on London's waves
Have sought your single grave,
One enemy, of many, who knows well
Your heart is luminous
In the watched dark, quivering through locks and caves,
Will pull the thunderbolts
To shut the sun, plunge, mount your darkened keys
And sear just riders back,
Until that one loved least
Looms the last Samson of your zodiac.
2.7k
the dragon has come
(she with the red rose on her breast is here again)
she with the arrows of thunderbolts has come to **** us to save the world
the world we have been destroying against all reason
the unicorn has bowed down
(she with the perpetual-child in hand has relunctantly yielded to the red-rose girl)
the dragon is really many dragons
they have no sense of purpose in what they do
they have no sense of morality or a sense of fighting immorality
the simply DO and hence are invincible
the dragon, thru the medium of the girl with the red rose on her breast or the girl with the perpetual child in hand or the child herself alone
will certainly soon call upon you
they have come for you and you shall do what you shall do
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010 at 12:13 PM UTC
Pokemon was a way to train warriors, worried about their tribal spells, being ready for the action, and the mother is okay with him taking a long time to get to bed at night before his big match, and it's all set and ready, and its all set and ready, and the interpol weaves the majestic time tables to rotate into another direction, because they are full of perfection, the pokemon, presenting itself in the highest of fashions, in a beautiful red and white ball that reflects the sunshine always, yes.
The different characters follow along their path, and they love to make their crazy sounds, and the brightest creature of all the creatures is a cat with thunderbolts! A CAT WITH THUNDERBOLTS
shooting the lightning
shooting the lighting
shooting the majesties
shooting the lightning
shooting the lightning
shooting the majesties
OUT OF CONTROL
AND FULLL OF SPLENDOR AND MADNESS AND SWINE AROUND THE CORDIAL MEASURE OF SPENDITUDE ALONG A SACRED LINE
ALONG A SACRED LINE
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 9:59 PM UTC
It was raining hard and cold.
As i walked myself home away from the mad thunderbolts.
Shivering and starving, i felt it all.
Under clouds of storm that rolled.
Then i felt it very clearly.
Somebody was watching me intensely.
I turned around and saw a dark sillhouette of a man in the thick fog.
Walking towards me, alert like a dog.
Feeling cold on my back i kept walking, faster and frightened.
There was something eerie about him that forced me to hasten.
Like a dark shadow in the fog he kept following me silently.
I turned around once again and the man stopped moving.
He stared back at me, the wind kept howling.
And very slowly, as i watched him there, he was fading away, under the street lights.
He was turning into thin air as the fog covered him out of my sight.
He was gone completely...
I did not see it.
A car travelling at very high speed hit me hard.
I fell on the road and then i saw nothing.
It was all dark.
When i opened my eyes everything had changed around me.
Everything was blur and vague to see.
I saw differently.
I smelt differently.
I heard differently.
I felt differently.
And i saw a man walking by hurriedly.
I started to walk, following him silently.
Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 6:02 AM UTC
O the mustangs stung like mosquitoes,
fast as lightning & thunderbolts,
liberators & fortresses,
hurricanes & tornadoes,
hell cats & bears,
invaders & dragons,
good grief Lord,
those mighty Gordons!
O wily foxes & quick lancers,
avengers & vindicators,
swordfish, barracuda,
some tuna, albacore.
Gladiators in the gauntlet,
zig-zagging & spitting fire,
spewing molten hot-lead,
bright-tracers in the night,
forever fighting
with their all their might,
bombing their daylights out
and into submission,
la morte, stone dead.
O they sank the Rising Sun,
'cause they had that *****
battling against all wrong
& protecting only
what was right!
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:50 AM UTC
Whether storms are all numbered, counted, and expelled from heaven's manufacture as sensational, furious strands of wind and rain, who can say? As they arrive, however, it is nonetheless clear that they arrive as effects to sets of circumstances.
I sat up straight as an arrow, freshly awakened from a stirring dream of madness as the latest one arrived, watching the black clouds like mighty arms, struggling and arguing against the trees outside my bedroom window. I had been torn by an invisible hand clutching me by the throat, snatching me from the murk of an ephemeral bedroom.
Engulfed in unsatiated fear, powerless to convulse even the tiniest flesh patch or creak a bone, my body was wrapped in only a gray silken **** cloth. As I lay awake, speechless, thunderbolts cracked.
As I was rendered helpless to petrification, I was surrounded by strike after strike, a confounding series of white bolts striking seven times in each place, following a path of concentric circles around my small bed.
I struggled to move, feeling a moving static across my body like jellyfish stings from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, as I felt the cold chill from each bolt setting my face into a freezing strangulation.
I was pulled away. I faded away from the smoking holes surrounding the bed, the sub-zero chill outside and the torturous heat of fear and arrhythmia pumping spews and spurts through my arteries inside, and I was left to wander in my own fantasia as I stared up to the ceiling above me in my real bed, daydreaming of its meaning in epistomological fashion.
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
I have long sought quiet.
And please, let me be clear: quiet.
Not the quietus Hamlet desired,
No “consummation devoutly to be wished” for me.
No, with or without a bare bayonet,
UNBEINGNESS is hardly what I seek.
It is not the predicament of death,
But the quiet spectacle of the grave I envy.
Originally a city mouse,
I am familiar with the urban soundscape.
I know city noise, amped up in decibels.
Noise-induced stress, shrill and enervating,
Add to the mix a working-class neighborhood,
Where someone is always hammering,
Using a power tool of some kind,
Repairing, improving an older, somewhat decrepit home;
But a steal as the realtors say.
Or vehicles, like Old Havana relics,
Held together by secular prayer,
And thriving underground Cuban capitalism.
Then just for fun: *"Let’s send the son of a ***** to war."*
Tympanic membranes be wary and be ******
Stretched and perforated,
Compressed and torn,
Shredded like wheat.
Pummeled by shock wave.
I was Lear wandering the heath,
Your ass-cheeks cracked:
*“Cataracts and hurricanes . . .
Oak-cleaving thunderbolts . . .
Sulphurour and thought-executing fires . . .
Singe my white head!”*
Cue Cabaret music (Cabaret (1972) - IMDb www.imdb.com/title/tt0068327): “Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome . . . to Indochine,”
First a Weimar-Saigon suckee-fuckee,
Then out to *The ****
Mind-numbing concussion,
Reek of jellied gasoline,
Charred meat,
Assorted red entrails,
Obliteration of thought complete.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Topping a rise comes a knight,
armour soiled and stained;
weary yet elated
riding his black steed.
The Princess in her tower sees
and gives a delighted cry.
She leans out her window
and hails the knight:
"Ho!Brave knight!
Whence comest thou?
Tell me thou seeketh me
for I wait for thee."
"Truly",answered the knight
"It is for thee I am come
my fair lady
and to take thine hand."
"I've sailed the seven seas,
toiled through forests and mires,
traversed deserts and dunes
looking for thee".
"Oh the joy!"whispered the lady
and cried,"My brave knight,
glad am I to hear thee but
Didst thou slay the dragon?"
Answered the knight,
"My dearest lady,
I have fought the giants,
conquered the orcs
and tamed the lions."
"Oh brave art thou
my worthy knight.
But didst thou slay
the mighty dragon?"
"I have escaped from dungeons,
caverns with unnamed fears.
Scorpions and serpents
I have crushed to the earth."
"Wonderful art thou
my worthy knight.
But didst thou slay
the fearsome dragon?"
"I have ridden the behemoth,
subdued the depths,
searched the clouds and
fiddled with thunderbolts"
"Magnificent art thou
my worthy knight.
But didst thou slay
the red dragon?"
"Lady,you are besot
with the dumb worm!",he said.
"I wonder if she",he thought
"has been crazed in that tower"
Sighing forlornly,
said the princess
"I canst not leave here
till the dragon is dead."
As the knight turned away
to ride back,she asked
"Whither goest thou?
To slay the beast?"
"Nay lady,nay
I go to slay the dunce
who wrote you
into that tower."
"What meanest thou
my dear knight?!
There is another knight
who dabbles in magic?!"
"Nay lady,nay.
He is not a knight.
He uses his quill
to weave his musings."
Cried the princess
"Oh mighty sir,
Oh Weaver with the quill!
Canst thou hear me?"
"Yes dear lady,"said I,
"What do you desire?
What can I do
that will please you?"
"My dearest Sir!
Oh my bravest hope.
Slay the dragon
and make me thine."
"But my lady
as much as I desire to,
you should know there is
No dragon in the story"
(Silence pervades)
"Oh my dear knight!!"
cried the lady to the rider,
"Slay this goon
and we shall be one."
Uh-oh...Time to put down the pen and run.
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 11:38 AM UTC
On every drop of ocean
I'll write your name
To every passing breeze
I'll say the same
To every leaf of forest
I'll say how I feel
To every rays of sun
my heart I'll reveal
To ever drop of rain
I'll whisper our tale
To every thunderbolts
our story I'll unveil
To every feeding ant
I'll tell your name
To every soil on earth
I'll say the same!!
Till the breathe of my life
I'll patiently wait
for you to come to me
so my love (to you) I'll narrate
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
When those storm clouds are gathering
As the rain prepares to lash down
The lightening flashes in the sky
Like an angry God throwing thunderbolts
I see a hidden beauty within this world
I see the rivers flowing gently across the great divide
Misty shades of faded grey arising way up high
All the world is aglow with God's lighted bolts
Everything is beautiful once again inside my heart
Peace is found no matter the rain and I am have rest and hope
And even though, through shades of darkness
There are times of a thousand hidden tears
I know that hope rises high for us all
For beauty walks side by side with the beast
We must open up our eyes to embrace it
Embrace the darkness, receive the light with gladness
Knowing those hidden tears will fade away
They will be replaced with joy, forsaking sadness
Never to be forgotten but held in store
Remembered when those new storms roar
A Collaboration by Chris J Smith and Neva Flores 2010
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
i came out the dark knight @ a time of Halloween...
October 31st, aka 13!(thirteen)! its like revenge of the shin-obi
when the master ninja intervenes! ill scratch you off my ticket, no ANTIHISTAMINE!
I OPERATE OF PRESURE POWERED BY MY SELF ESTEEM!
life is like a submarine, aka 20,000 leagues
13 FLAMES @ the caliber of 90 degrees,
WHY? B cuhz his psyche is that of majestic tree$
he grounds his feet magnetically and sails on solar seas,
like dreams i am the cosmic center piece and your in for adventures anytime you mention me.
weathered emotions or emotions are weather, all we endeavor, just REMEMBER, that we're in it 2gether.
i seek for that lyrical gold, the magnificent treasure
where mere letters compose characters for the spirit of a ghost.
i control, their minds like buttons on a remote
juxtaposed isotopes,,,
reran episodes hide the codes, thru magic cloaks,
the lames don't want to feel my fury like thunderbolts
or 13 tornadoes and mashed potatoes.
nova flames ENABLES, his girl to experience rare occasions
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
Ever since I was, Me,
This particular me
I was told;
I cried and whimpered-
I cried and Whimpered,
as I came out of womb,
still in wail, still in snivel,
I was staggered,
in utter astound, and amazement;
For absolutely no reason,
I Sniveled,
and sniveled that day,
into the madness I was in,
out of universe, into parallel whim,
I wondered,
I wondered:
Am I dead into my bones,
Where is the world, I have known,
The world, I have known for for 9 months-
or am I just a door, opened into storms,
May be it was for today, for few moments,
the Ill be gone !
Or, May be I was reincarnated into days,
of games leading to this game;
or was I just a foible,
dependent to layers,
of layers,
expanded into life's flare;
I was staggered,
in utter astound, and amazement;
For absolutely no reason,
I cried and whimpered,
as I came out of womb,
still in wail, still in snivel,
I was staggered,
in utter astound, and amazement;
For absolutely no reason,
Peace,
Peace,
Yes, Peace, all peace,
Love
Love,
Yes Love, all love,
Harmony,
Dear Harmony,
All Harmony,
Then again,
I jump down the lanes of memories,
She says,
Are you done trumping?
Aren't you late for working?
Aren't you late for life, this real life?
Then slowly,
I go mad,
By and by,
I am Mad,
into today and tomorrows,
anxious;
into emotions and fears;
.
Covered by joys and tears;
.
Eroded into feelings,
.
leading unto her being,
.
So,
it again becomes a helpless game,
where,
I cry and whimper
And there she is,
after all this while,
she seems to be in my dreams,
or in her dreams,
where she wail, and snivel !
Glued into her memories,
her eyes, to mine,
distant aero-plane into her abstain,
not much of caring,
yet, in her cosmic sharing;
repairing myself, into her un-caring,
tunneling a way, into sharing;
that love, that peace
that harmony;
Mommy,
in her tummy, had her, as baby, where a cell grew into body;
in some hide and seek, in melancholy
a bit sloppy, a bit swampy;
into dancing infinity,
along, my pace in her infinity-
my safari, in her serenity;
like some birds, singing songs,
of wordless hums,
just some gongs,
in shores, in her floor,
a flower out of spores,
her songs,
silent applause,
of this bird, who explores,
into the space-less, horizons
that thunderbolts,
B O O M
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
we shall not love you
the people cry
we shall not worship
or adore you
and the Gods of Olympus sigh
and though famine punish
and surplus grant
the people do not let up their chant.
Old Zeus grown weary through graying age
as young as the day his father, slayed
yet older in mind and wiser still
has had enough of humanities fill.
And thunderbolts he throws from his clouded sky
and below the people cry
"We shall not go quietly into the night!"
"We deny you and so we'll fight!"
And Aphrodite, her beauty now common place
a million mimicry's in plastic-made face
paints war paint on cheek and brow
and shouts with a dangerous frown
"Raise your blades at me with dread!"
"With Eos rise you'll all be dead!"
But plain Athena stays her hand
and looks down on the rabid band
with helmet and spear, in moonbeams clad
she shakes her head, expression sad
"Leave them be, my sister,"
"Do not let rise your anger."
But fair villain Beauty ran
and clutched at another man
"Ares!" cried the Goddess, "Act for me!"
and bloodthirsty God, he got to his feet
and with chariot of fire and wheels of bones
and Discord and Malice singing their songs
he rushed to do the bidding
to a conflict that needed winning.
But Apollo's chariot drew close
and blocked his path with the sun
"No, Brother, do not go."
"This is not a war to be won."
And below Demeter drew back her hand
and crops and rivers dried to sand
and Persephone never rose from her tomb
to usher new life from springtimes womb
and Hades fickle laugh with Hermes nervous snicker
Artemis let wane the moon and stars flicker.
And darkness shut out a world malcontented
left in darkness as the people lamented
and Eos stayed abed for years at a time
Prometheus fires wouldn't burn, the cities were slime
and those that once were men
were transformed once then again...
and from the darkness there rose
things with sightless eyes, creatures predisposed
to live in blackness and filth by Fates three
and banished were they to the depth of the sea.
And there they live still, in the Challenger Deep
and further below even more of them sleep
the creatures that once molested the God's door
the myth, if that, of monsters called Noctor.
Apr 10, 2010
Apr 10, 2010 at 5:24 PM UTC
I know it when I look at you
I’m stirring in your sky
thunderbolts rise up within
telling us to come inside
I feel the wind whip up again
to drowned out all the chaff
scare the flooded fields of crow
lightning deep in us to crash
I built this bed for us by hand
back when those oaks fell
it washed out all the roads to you
rain soaked sheets of skin avail
I’m not what you want to want
you look amazing in afraid
I will hold you tight this time
enough to feel your windows shake
I wish that we could try again
but I will get you back to town
wait and dry out here for you
pray your storm comes back around
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 7:05 PM UTC
Light strokes penetrate
Clear understory layers
Opaque canopies
Sweat evaporates
Pores leak humid scent secrets
Rising mists becloud
Red barometers
Issue ships stiff storm warnings
Gulls ignore peril
Thunderbolts raise hairs
Shock dry kindling to inflame
Burnt bush hot spectrum
Fire attracts lost craft
Beached by hidden sandbars’ surf
Painted waves engulf
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
I found hidden passages and crept inside to see
Secrets held underneath golden wings
Ultrasonic waves drifted inexplicably into me
My blinded eyes were opened
As my ears began
To ring
I saw faces unknown to anyone within my bounds
With thunderbolts in their eyes
Chanting words of wisdom, I thought unfound
Commanding all of my attention
As their lightening
Made me sigh
I shook my head in disbelief, as tears began to fall
Upon a face, I thought I knew as mine
Denial shook my soul as wisdom was installed
Every feature of my face
I could no longer
See to be defined
My curiosity has taken me to this hidden place
Beyond, my depth of belief
I stand with confusion written on a face
Unrecognizable as my own
From which
I cannot find relief
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 3:39 PM UTC
The storm rages wild outside the window
But with you in the room, my breath seems to slow
Till my fears brought on by the thunderbolts
Are not very much
Not even a little
Not even at all.
The glare on the wine glass from the glow of the fire
Warming me up from the inside and the bits of exposed skin
Till the chill from the wind
Is not very much
Not even a little
Not even at all.
As pleasant conversations turn to unspoken evaluations
Your eyes start to smolder
Till the space between our fingers
Is not very much
Not even a little
Not even at all.
Oct 31, 2011
Oct 31, 2011 at 4:15 PM UTC
Thunderbolts,
Zeus's weapon of choice,
For water of life,
companion and voice.
When rain is scarce,
we pray and we cherish.
When there's too much,
we're afraid that we'll perish.
Water of life,
feeds our souls and our earth.
Precious ingredient,
leads to infinite birth.
Anomynous. 9/1/2016.
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
falling rain
shadowed by storm
crackling light
skyward
clouds of gray and black
starless sky
raging thunder
wavering breeze
grasses green
stars alight
moon as bright
cold seeps in
thunderbolts crashing
frosty hail
booming lightning
frigid current
bleak mist
a chill in the air
bitter frozen cold
a roaring rumble
pealing thunder
crackling lightning
by black rose
date 8-25-2014
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC