"thunderclap" poems
I'll walk you through the rain..
Hold your hand in the lightning..
We will clap our hands as the air cools from the passing lightning,
THUNDERCLAP rumble on through..
Come play with me in the puddles brother..
Lets make a bottlecap boat with a sailor ant and watch it float on through the grassy ant lake..
Lets watch the rain moths fly on through after a good storm.. where do they go? into the dreams of the ones who are sleeping now..
Smell the atmoshere, smell the rain.. Watch as the day becomes filled with orange and sad gray..
Sure its muddy, and a bit cold.. and of course we are not wearing shoes.. But we are having an adventure, there is no time for such nonsense.. Only magic u and i create.. together brother, always together..
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC
Myself caught in the heatwave sunlight, brown eyes
furrowed in the sun, scarf loose on my neck/
the transcendental Denpasar morning-birds
are playing their melodies in my head still,
three years post-Indonesia.
All of my soul to India now,
sky the pink of painted elephants
on Jaipur dawning,
my afterlife was somewhere here
perhaps two generations ago, chances are.
Vijay Raghav Rao and Alla Rakha
playing the Tabla/via earphones/treading the
Funary Box City (Kashi) future Spring
hands held together keeping calm pace.
Looking about, my twenty-two year old face
catches humid wind
S
I
L
V
E
R
S
H
O
P
tattered bike leaning on the gated guest house entrance
PERENNIAL AZURE SHIVA SITS CROSS LEGGED/
COBRA NECKLACE IMITIATONS ON THE GODDESS THROAT/
MEDITATING SHIVA/
dulled from years and corrosion.
Brahmin center of the market street
flapping it's tail,
sweat beads from my forehead bleeding
to oily pavement.
At last the months have come for the river Ganges,
April penumbra/savage thunderclap
while school children uplifting the heart
AND MIND
are ROARING in their laughter
the CONTINENTAL DISCORD OF JOY
sleeping with their eyes open
while others are too tired for the Earth.
Sidney Bechet floating swan songs during
the black hour cremations/
“Bechet Creole Blues”
CATERWAUL IN THAT VOID
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF DEATH/
LUNACY OF LIFE
(I've arrived at the simultaneous crossroads
of both)
searing flesh in open air pyramids/
Manikarnika Ghat,
Asia F
L
O
W
S
through dreams
like inevitable prophecy
and as ash blends with stars
the CITY seems fulfilled
and mystifying
in it's
(((((RESPLENDENCE)))))
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
Clash. Zap. Thunderclap.
Orbitals charged with electricity collide - feels like crossing the streams
let's - smash atoms like Adam and Eve,
pierce fiercely with particles blown white hot from my accelerator
Insatiable
Like trying to fill up a black hole, so i accelerate her
excite her, ignite her, my touch lights her on fire
combust.
a cloud of ecstasy like Co2 rises higher
I've got my eyes on your ions
take a picture it'll last longer?
snap a photo digitize her
particles turned pixels tilt their head skyward
transcendant enlightenment, released it inside her
E=mc^2 , i can please you at the speed of light
we just rewrote the big bang theory and this time we got it right
opposites attract and charged sparks fly
we might not touch but ion be ****** if we don't try
I'm a ****** intellectual
I love your body AND your mind.
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 2:13 PM UTC
We walk along the beach at night,
Arms entwined and hearts entwined,
Waves lapping 'gainst our feet,
Pebbles scurrying like sand ***** 'twixt our toes.
Talking about ***** we are both
A little tickly in the naughty bits department,
As the gentle summer breeze
Wafts through our matted ***** hairs.
Just a brief hour or two ago,
We were strangers at the Pier disco,
And now our histories are to be
Inextricably linked by fate.
I do not know that, in a month or so,
I shall need to send you
A little yellow contact slip
From the Margate Hospital special clinic
Informing that you have been exposed to
A most unpleasant social disease
Which, with a bit of rotten luck,
Could easily rot your insides.
But, for now, our thoughts are far away
As we laugh and joke together
In our new found post-coital,
Youthful lovers' camaraderie,
Not wanting to speak too loudly or disturb
The copulating pair by the nearby breakwater
(Not that they'd be put off by a thunderclap
Seeing as how he's on the short strokes by now).
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
Yesterday, clouds gathered in the sky
Covering the sun,
Yesterday, I saw the ravens fly
I saw the squirrels run.
The wind stormed on the walls in rage
Her fury knew no bounds,
Violently she rattled the cage
Of the hell hounds.
She flew from tree to tree
Unsettling its leaves and flowers,
A hive that sheltered a swarm of honeybee
Fell in the pond, for the frogs to devour.
A thunderclap echoed from a distance
A prelude to what is to come,
Shattering everything in existence
Leaving everything numb.
Enveloped in darkness
The canvas was coloured grey and black,
It had an air of stillness
Yet, there was something that it lacked.
And then it started to rain
On the brown soil of the small town,
Easing the pain
That was hidden behind the smile of a clown.
Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2019.
All Rights Reserved.
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC
You wanted a love like in the movies;
rain drenched white shirts, palms covered
in daisy pollen; I love you more than--
a phone call, long distance, your fingers
curling the telephone wire like you're pulling me
towards you
like a fibre optic pheromone.
Soundtracks of a jazz piano, and old jukebox hits,
flared skirts and Mary Jane shoes, square dancing.
But most of the time, we don't get to choose
the colour of the bedsheets. In this story,
I know you're going to leave me. I can sense
the zoom of your eyes, rolling away from me.
The lighting in the room, like the ones where something
awful is about to happen: a sad, sick orange
like a cheap sunset; the music, or lack thereof,
the way you bite your lip like you're about to
break my heart.
You look to the ground, and I know this is where
the narration will start;
*this is the story of the first time
someone broke my heart.
She's going to look up at me
and say the words,
It's all over-*
and in a jump frame
the thunderclap will mask the sound
of my heart shattering, the sob disappearing
into my throat.
You wanted a love like in the movies,
honey,
we all did.
But then the rain came, and the flowers
drowned in their beds.
You left your umbrella by the doorstep,
I hope you don't catch a cold.
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
You have abandoned purity for perfection.
Even the blind have moments of clarity
but you ***** around like the Cyclops
feeling nowhere for noman while
affecting a quiet, moronic expression.
You can't knit without needles,
but you have mislaid the point and
so things unravel into random skeins.
Your typewriter rattles only in reverse.
Bards stub their toes and wail.
You hear them, but pay no attention.
You are listening for the atomic thunderclap.
Nothing less than finale of final will do.
When it explodes at last you will know
the inarticulate, unspeakable name of god.
Perhaps Fred. Perhaps Norma or Justine.
Perhaps merely a very loud Boom...
That will be more than enough for one life.
Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 8:59 AM UTC
I'm not sure how much of you I know yet.
I know that 75% of you is a river
while the remaining 25% of you remains unknown.
I am making you sound like a science text book.
The other day, I called you music, and flowers,
and everything else I could think of that
would grab your lips and make them curve upward
to smile.
I'm not good at writing poems for people
who have made my veins into a swimming pool
to backstroke through.
I'm not used to being warm like this.
I know that we can sometimes be identical and sometimes,
it's hard to convince you that you're breathing
but let me put it this way,
you are hurricane Katrina, the shredded buildings,
the ceramic plate my mother made for me through the aftermath.
When I was 15, it was hanging on the wall and fell
from a thunderclap. Yellow, with my name on it.
I have called you baby on an estimate of four times a day
and we are trying to fix it.
We will slow dance in the living room and
we will not notice the windows whistling
but what you do not know it sounds like a storm
but love, I hear you name through the cracks in the doors
when the rain sets in.
I haven't said much already.
Hurricanes are awful and you think you're more like the
sound the sky makes when it's upset.
But everyone likes the name Katrina anyway.
Metaphors don't get me anywhere but listen,
hold me like I am the only building you do not want to destroy.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
The heat seeping into my body through my hands
The steam sticking to my face like glue
The smell of peppermint surrounds me
I close my eyes and listen to the thunderclap
I listen to the rain hit my window
I fall apart
I shatter
Into a million little pieces
I feel the tea splash onto my hand as I shake
It burns but I enjoy the pain
It reflects the pain in my heart
Footsteps
I throw up my walls
Wipe away the tears
Clean up the tea
I'm fine.
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 6:27 PM UTC
Once we were panthers,
sleek and powerful
embroidered in the silks
of midnight and dawn.
Passing the reflections
of city windows
as all bare streets
gave us their throats-
Tasting of blood and love.
And then the morning went away.
The dust settled with a silent thunderclap
the open streets closed upon us
with a wall of eyes,
We reached our hands forth
and touched nothing -
but the ivory shadow
left by
daffodils in death.
The day the morning went away.
We poured our questions
into the water supply,
we drank the mix
as the night rolled by.
It painted upon our minds
that we were snow coated deer
and soon we took their form.
We never made love again
we simply locked horns
until the roosters call
called us to stop.
For to make love
became a **********
and to **** without mercy
our golden seduction
into their secret submission
The day the morning went away.
Your perfect stranger
became your perfect enemy
your perfect enemy,
your perfect friend
and you were silenced by the thunderclap
you were silenced by
the thunderclap.
My little panther
afraid of the quiet thunder
afraid of the doe eyed stare
that cuts you from the mirror
cuts you right down
to the bone.
I watched you place
your tiny
white
lipstick to the corner
of your eyes
and manicure
your perfect
stag horns
as you brace yourself
to step outside.
The morning mist
comes into your lungs
and you exhale
a liar’s hello
to all below.
The day the morning went away.
Our ebony coats were hung up on a nail
we once were panthers
now our hearts are meek
we once were panthers
we once chose to seek,
now we flee at the sight
of moths dancing in the
summer light.
We once were panthers
we once were panthers
we once were glorious panthers.
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
It was 5am
When the thunderclap dragged me
Screaming from my bed.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 6:43 AM UTC
Let that butterfly
land
on
my
Heart
It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything there
Well… other than the THUNDERCLAP
That was you closing the door
Let that butterfly
land
on
my
Heart
It’s been so long
So long since I felt butterflies there
Dancing so hard it made me feel sick
I miss that kind of sick…
Let that butterfly
land
on
my
Heart
It’s been so long
Too long…
Let me hear the wind from its wings…
I hope they whisper Truth
Let one antenna brush up against my Heart…
To remind me that I can still feel
Let it see me…
I need to be seen
Don’t fly away
little
butterfly
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
Life isn’t enough.
I want 10 more
I want 10 penises and 10 *******
I want 10 guns and 10 crosses
I want 10 children and 10 homes
I want 10 friends and 10 enemies
I want more of everything and now
The gamma rays and the cosmic nothingness
The icy chill and solar flares
The Big Expanse and Big Crunch
I CRAVE the universe
ALL of it
To funnel through me
Like water through a hose
Or electricity through a cable
Or sunlight through a magnifying glass
I am wired
With LIFE
With music, and wine, and kisses
With silence, hangovers, and wishes
I want to consume
Like Horace
the very sun, the very underworld
Engulf dreams, nightmares, and mortality between
Like plumes of obsidian perfume
Sacrifice virgins and assassins
Dig up graves and wheel them into churches
Dig up stones and throw them at CIA vans
I want to rage
Smear my blood all over eggshells
Feces on W2 forms
Give me more thunderclap and ******** wailings
Charge me with the ravenous gasp
To breathe, to bellow
To love in bolted totality
To strike and revel
I hold the goblet out
Shimmering and trembling
For you
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 1:58 AM UTC
Sara L Russell
A songwriter sat down to write
and tried and tried with all this might
to make the inspiration come
until the bowels of his soul were numb
until he almost screeched in pain
and forced an idea in his brain.
He strained, then like a thunderclap,
out came a song - and it was crap.
Established DJ's tapped their feet,
they thought it sounded rather sweet;
it had nothing unsafe to say
and so they played it night and day
and so they played it day and night
ad nauseam, as if in spite.
It should have been hurled down the nearest drain
but was played again and again and again
And so it got to Number One
and bored the **** off everyone
and so eventually went gold
as down the river the world was sold
as grannies bought it in their droves
(as if grannyhood behoves
the buying of such awful things)
And thus the turkey spread it's wings.
One day, a man with a broken heart
whose business venture fell apart
whose grandmother was very ill
stood high upon a window sill
and wondered, should he jump, or no?
And was six floors high enough to go?
As his aching heart began to thump,
He heard the song - and decided to jump.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
in a land of shadows and chimeras,
Buddhas, who seek the Buddha,
yearners, strugglers, dying persons.
Still with the last breath
hovered around from mists,
through the woods the morning star shines,
the red blood flows out of the heart,
that there beats and will beating eternally.
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
sparks of light from nowhere,
like lightnings flashing through the universe,
again go out in the nowhere,
which lays its blackness comforting and motherly
yet at the last sigh around us.
Life, which, forgetting itself,
sees itself in the empty mirror
and doesn’t know, that the mirror
is in every fiber of its being
- not here or there
and beyond the great gate of the here,
through which it becomes itself
on the middle of the threshold a gateless gate.
Dreamers, sleepwalkers,
- A thunderclap!
A fall from heaven to earth!
A cry from earth to heaven!
An inconceivable moment of glory!
And only peace – unpronounceable holy…
© Barbara-Paraprem, 2014
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
Its frightening as a thunderclap in a twilight forest and as deafening as the steady drip-drops in a cavern beyond light.
As choking as being tossed asunder with no life preserver in a raging sea, to be swallowed in ice and time.
As sought after as a Virgin's pure kiss, by needy fervent lips and steady hands gripping all the more tighter.
As feared as Death's embrace, if not more, because it says you are finally alone.
It is that blissful white noise, that comes with a much sought after release with a patient and attentive lover.
It is the steady dull ache in your bones, as the glistening blade caresses your skin.
As it washes over me I breathe deep. I feel the fear, and the panic as to what if they find me this time, and will they ever.
But as I let wave after wave crash down upon me, drip after drop hit the floor.
As my fear gives way to bliss my lover could not bring, my panic drifts to calm from the songs the knife does sing.
...As comforting as floating in the ocean, as soft as a lovers sated kiss, as lost as a child's purity, and as beautiful as Lady Death's familiar arms.
I cannot wait to seek the cool embrace once again...
Nov 26, 2015
Nov 26, 2015 at 7:29 PM UTC
YOUR VOICE WAS A THUNDERCLAP
I COWERED UNDER THE BED
MY SKELETON TURNED TO FIREWOOD
AS YOU DOUSED THE HOUSE IN GASOLINE
MY PHONE VIBRATES IN MY BELLY
IVE SWALLOWED YOUR VOICE MAILS
ITS EASIER TO HIT IGNORE
THAN IT IS TO HEAR YOUR VOICE
CANDID PHOTOS OF YOU
ARE TACKED TO MY WALLS
I TRIED TO LET THIS OBSESSION DIE
I PUSH MY NAILS INTO MY PALMS
MY HANDS ARE VOODOO DOLLS
IT FEELS AS IF MY THOUGHTS
ARE STUCK IN CAPS LOCK
I NEVER WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
You planted all the vices in my psyche's synapses,
maybe it was a plan, maybe it just happened, perhaps?
Made a chart of mental topography, a psychotic map
to traverse my mind as it snaps like a thunderclap.
Is it just the world's irreconcilable consciousness of fate
the deciphered encryption of our collection of hate.
'Tis said for all good, and true for bad also, we must wait
for our time in eternity to step thru insanity's gate.
You planted all the vices in my psyche's synapses,
maybe it was a plan, maybe it just happened, perhaps?
Made a chart of mental topography, a psychotic map
to traverse my mind as it snaps like a thunderclap.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 12:16 PM UTC
The suicidal optimist with his noisesome breath
watches the moon for shooting stars.
He talks a lot about it;
but everyone's seen Christ in the clouds.
Picks his way to an early death
with romantic subtitles
and a continental breakfast.
He halts his noisesome breath
and checks for excitement -
"Darling..." he whispers
"I must have you."
Your sob was like a thunderclap
Your sob was like a thunderclap
in the deep and ancient night.
And the stars did sigh
For servitude
in the deep and ancient night.
Clearing his head
whilst muddying the meter
He realises :
Jesus was an astronaut
Smoking zen by the fire.
And everything makes sense
in an unexpected moment
That he thought
would never come
And all our yesterday's lighted fools
the way to dusty death.
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Down under
with faceless fear.
Thunderclap
sounds wonder.
Drip,drip,
of one too many tear.
Caught
between
you and I,
a spark
burned hot.
Reaching in,
drawing back.
A bellows billows black.
I can't
wonder
where or when,
what it was we had,
and will it ever
be back again.
The long lost love
lost its luster.
Too much too soon,
Much too much
trust to muster.
You said
you didn't want
to hurt me,
but still you did.
I never wanted to hurt you,
but still I did. Some times
I can clearly see where it is that
I bring sorrow.
We bounced around
and called it fun.
We hid ourselves
not wanting to hurt,
we played the lie
and took what
we thought
was the best.
But inside now,
I see it for what it was,
it was just a curve ball
sinking fast.
Sometimes,
in my right mind,
I clearly see why
I feel the guilt
and the shame.
When your pain
or some symbol
of your grief
lay
spread eagle
over my not so picture
perfect day,
and in my
undaunted attempt to
kick your dark
memory
to the curb.
When I
can see where
I caused you sorrow,
I have to
justify it,
stop
thinking
about it,
put it...
off until tomorrow.
I sometimes wonder
if there really is
any winners
or losers
in break-ups,
or if it is only the prep work
while the chef
shouts out his or her maniacal orders.
I did once look
at my past loves,
(if you can call them that).
The only common denominator
I could come up with
as to why they didn't hold true amd work
was me..
So there I go,
who's to blame who.
That just amounts to,
That's that...
© 2013
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
masterful, we may not yet be
but I press my
fingertips, warm-smooth
to your skin, the curves and
the planes
anyways, because
i like the way you are. i'm fond
of your stained-glass eyes, and
your blood-soaked cheeks.
i try this new thing, anyways
because i like it even
though i cannot quite get this
new thing, this foreign
dance routine
correct.
jigsaw souls interlock like
the way they meant,
each inhale and exhale
breathing evening in,
and each drumbeat of my pulse
sending my blood flying
faster under my skin.
lightning rod love, you're
a thunderclap
away
from a hurricane,
please tell me you
can feel
the ringing in my ears
the shaking of our earths; because
i can feel the electricity
in my nerve endings
sing, high and thin.
heat and wonder on your
breath, i just felt it
on my cheek;
when my limbs go weak i turn
my head and tell you
"i love you", another turn
of events, another
manifestation
and declaration
of the stirrings and rumblings
inside my chest.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 11:36 AM UTC
Silence shattered, like your mother's
favorite China, with a voice that
is equivalent to a sonic boom.
No one's ever told you that your temper
could cause such unrest, like the tides
against the adjusting position of Earth.
At first, they resisted, just like I did;
but then the barriers broke and the ocean
began to pour down my cheeks,
salty tears and sandy beaches.
Baby, don't you know that
I'm just as fragile as glass?
Dear , your thunderclap bellow is
enough to splinter this heart of mine;
and dear, I am weak.
Be gentle with your winds,
and quiet in your soul when the storms
rage on. I will always keep you dry.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
the heartbeat rumble
in your ears
is the signal
you’ve been waiting for
a warning
that too much
has piled up
and your head
has gone all Kandinsky
blood lights
blinking like sequins
in the crook of your vision
tangle of duvet
half lolloped on the floor
echo
of a neighbour’s conversation
a gloopy mumble
through the walls
and you’re thinking
of skin the colour of wheat
un-lipsticked lips
a song that hasn’t been written
but the words exist
longing for you to pluck them
like a novel from a shelf
in a second-hand shop
a thunderclap
snaps you back
to the same room
the same face
looking back from the mirror
with its wet blueberry eyes
and you say
you have a story
fashioned from mashed potato
and sticky tape
all it needs is a listener
to kiss a whisper
to your neck
drip syllables
that glow as torches
tell you everything is fine
your listener
as the shower rain
leaves a network of streets
jogging down your cheeks
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
Seducers of the sky above,
Drinkers of the salty sea,
Oh, possessors of the earth below,
How I wish I never existed,
How I wish the Gods never existed,
You are gradually fading away the
Splendid beauty of my true existence,
Yes, the tornadoes and the hurricanes
And the thunderclap and the fire
Shall always accompany your existence,
Oh yes, I am about to express
My distaste for your order,
The beautiful part of my nature
Have you consciously eroded,
But the thunder-Gods shall surely
Deal with you relentlessly,
Hmm, everyone that knows your works
Shall have a nasty story to tell your kind,
For your passion for wealth and excellence
Has imprison my wretched soul
And has divided my living bones,
Mother earth has no more pleasure in you,
Before your unforgiving existence,
Truly, I knew the story of the
Old one and his nature,
Wait and experience my mighty right arm,
Always shall you seek
My indefinite destruction,
Always shall I seek indefinite
Vengeance on your children’s children,
Unfortunately, it is ignorance that
Makes the rat attack the cat.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:20 AM UTC
It rained the whole of last night, dearest.
The banyan tree beyond my window
swished and swayed in the storm.
How bleak the wet luminance of my wait!
No streetlamp blinked
on the riddle of your returning trail
over the desolate stretches of the night.
My eyes stood sentinel,
the whole night, dearest,
for the faraway flicker of your torch
hurrying home...
Only fireflies wheeled lost and hopeless in the gale.
And there was lightning too, dearest—
white stallions carting the chariot of faceless shadows
down the valley of my gloom.
My-heart-leapt-at-each-thunderclap...
Did I hear,
muffled in its rumble,
your fumble at the gate,
knock at the door?
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 6:07 PM UTC