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"thunderclaps" poems
Seagulls squeak and As thunderclaps salute the laws of physics I imagine they could speak Sensory inputs of fresh strawberries become A raging flood of summer sweetness that Fuses with the hot electrified air And I'm daydreaming that Above this veil of angry clouds Roams unseen ancient eyes With tears braver than What is boundless Stronger and brighter than even Endless darkness They lie in wait Their love Their warmth Bursting forth Wombs of rainbows And all that is precious Yet still untold Waiting to kiss the atoms of your skin And once again Paint your summer smile Blink and you might forget that They were you Before you were even born Sunset Sunrise Watch them never skip a beat Wake up. Kick *** Repeat.
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Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
Hey sun, I like your attitude
Muted, muffled, dull thud on concrete, Staggered, drunken, half conscious nobody, Starved, seeking, worried about payments, **** in hand, knocking on the wrong doors, Fire and brimstone stoked in the belly, Mad, strange, appetizing burlesque eyes, Obnoxious smacking and licking of parched lips, Rolling on half rationed legs, Quiet, sullen, mournful footsteps, Presently placed awkwardly one in front of the other, Memory serves correctly, destitute, reprise, Thunderclaps and crashing roars, Almost forgotten, with great relief, Soon, very soon, to be lost forever, Candlelight, sobbing vigils, no power, Nail, Nail, Nail, Praise in the box, graffiti walled, Like a bathroom stall, just as ****** Docile dissolving vessels, Brought to the commonplace dropoff, Settled down and greatly relieved.
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Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:38 PM UTC
DEADBEAT
The redneck got arrested last night. The ******* was barking back at dogs and belting shots of scotch well-before sundown. You could say he and the sun were collectively sinking. Nights like these breed pregnant silences between the outbursts. I sit poised for the next eruption as a child cloistered under covers for fear of thunderclaps-- Another howl, (presumably bellowing for beer) then he's batting his live-in lap-straddler around the apartment beneath me. With every strike the drywall learns a lesson this ignorant ***** can't get a grip on: some things never change. The world will change around them like tissue growing around a bullet fragment. The cops come, the cuffs go on, and the problem is put on pause for an evening-- but he'll ascend the stairs with the sunrise. They'll reconcile,             because misery does want for company. He'll promise he'll be different. She'll actually believe him. They'll be back to battering their plaster with the reverberations of ******* and arguments. She can't see that a drunkard's apologies         are counterfeit currency. I took it for common knowledge. Perhaps it is... Perhaps, like living in tornado alley, they cope with ceaseless shit-storms because they're just too lazy to move.
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Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 12:36 AM UTC
No Place Like Home
In my childhood rumors ran Of a world beyond our door— Terrors to the life of man That the highroad held in store. Of mermaids' doleful game In deep water I heard tell, Of lofty dragons belching flame, Of the hornèd fiend of Hell. Tales like these were too absurd For my laughter-loving ear: Soon I mocked at all I heard, Though with cause indeed for fear. Now I know the mermaid kin I find them bound by natural laws: They have neither tail nor fin, But are deadlier for that cause. Dragons have no darting tongues, Teeth saw-edged, nor rattling scales; No fire issues from their lungs, No black poison from their tails: For they are creatures of dark air, Unsubstantial tossing forms, Thunderclaps of man's despair In mid-whirl of mental storms. And there's a true and only fiend Worse than prophets prophesy, Whose full powers to hurt are screened Lest the race of man should die. Ever in vain will courage plot The dragon's death, in coat of proof; Or love abjure the mermaid grot; Or faith denounce the cloven hoof. Mermaids will not be denied The last bubbles of our shame, The Dragon flaunts an unpierced hide, The true fiend governs in God's name.
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4.3k
Mermaid, Dragon, Fiend
Her life was run on the oil of synchronicity planted in the seduction of abstract hypotheses. The moons and ebbs of tides Swoop in like thunderclaps on wing'ed lightning bolts, Capturing synergy Wiping out energy Till she huddles in a pile of her own failure Tucking up her toes to avoid the floods Admiring and condemning The rain soaked Howling at her gate.
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 9:58 PM UTC
Oil of Synchronicity
GIVEN ALL THESE THUNDERCLAPS I WONDER WHERE WE LAST TOUCHING ON THE BACKS OF OUR HANDS TOGETHER, FALLING WATCHING AS WE SPLIT INTO… I FOUND OUT THE OWL, SAYS WHO? AND THE BEARS AND THE BEARS AND THE BEARS AND THE BEARS THE BEARS THE BEARS THE BEARS BEARS THERE IS SOMETHING I MUST TELL YOU UGH THERE COMES THUNDER THERE GOES LIGHTNING STILL I WONDER IF THEY'RE FIGHTING I CAN'T HELP BUT ASK MYSELF WHAT'S THE WORTH THEN THEY COME AND THEIR THUMBS WILL DRAW NUMB, AND THEY CAN'T SPEAK THEY'RE DUMB HERE COME LIGHTNING HERE COMES THUNDER THEY'RE STILL FIGHTING I STILL WONDER DOES YOUR NUMB GROW- DOES YOUR THUMB GROW NUMB FROM HOLDING DOWN THE MUTE BUTTON WITH YOUR CROWN AS YOU'RE SCREAMING, SETTLE DOWN IN YOUR GOWN WITH THE TEARS STREAMING DOWN YOUR FACE AND THE YEARS LIKE IT NEVER TOOK PLACE AND THE HEART NOW JUST AN EMPTY SPACE AND THE PART YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS, TO REPLACE
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 4:22 AM UTC
THUNDER
I heard, my  rainbird singing Meghmalhar* alone, my heart was broken in to pieces, as her wistful tune hit it, her swansong it was, I realized. I knew grief was her wings, how can I make her confine to this garden and sing, when she wants to be on the wings? I watched her from behind the bushes thinking to give her the freedom to sing her swansong. In to the  rain clouds , she flew up, only a feather she left behind, for all the memories of my music filled days with her. Torrential monsoon rains lashed, thunderclaps and lightening made the sky a war zone, I saw her flying in to the heart of danger, without concern, my eyes followed her far and away, one last time, a drop of tear on the corner of my eye, sears my soul all the time.
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Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
The Rainbird's Swansong
The apartment is messy again. A never-ending pile of clean underwear, stained laundry, and in-between pieces toeing the line between passable and gross. it's not that it's bad, it's fine. it's enough to get by. like wheat-based cereal and watery coffee. I guess this is our life together jumbled and messy, with piles of good intentions and tomorrow projects but that never quite find their way into a proper time or place. I look out the open window for an answer, a sign, some kind of assurance that this time is different and this place is where I'm finally supposed to be. But all I see is grey. No thunderclaps or burst of lightening or enlightenment come to me. You blow out the lit candle on the coffee table, its smoke curling itself into question marks that dissipate as quickly as the rain. Maybe tomorrow will hold more answers or more sunlight I can use to see our path forward. But for now, we'll go to bed in crinkled sheets and warm promises for the day yet to come.
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Jun 1, 2023
Jun 1, 2023 at 1:49 PM UTC
Grey Matter
You're happy maggie You taught me a lot  The forest was our adventure The daytime was our adventure I filled your bowls We fell asleep on each other We're both afraid of thunderclaps And you could make me smile No one can do that I held you when you were sick today You looked so sad And it completely shattered my heart And I fell on the pieces of it I couldn't believe it I will be with you when you go It'll be hard but, Deep breath Deep Breath. Thank You
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Apr 28, 2012
Apr 28, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
Maggie May
Blood, now boils quick, it's intense, he is in fire, on her every touch, there is a special anesthetic a poisonous binge, causes tidal waves go berserk in his stream of blood,tangible effects of arousal results, body now is a vast field,  goosebumps sprout like spotted magic mushrooms after a night long rain and thunderclaps, the salacious intent of the scent of woman,wafts, singing pheromones perfectly rhyme with *** center of the brain, "Ï am addicted to tarantula's love" his whisper sounds ominous, tarantula casts her net Serpentine vines tangle on wild trees,in natural history museum premises,trees fall down and rise, create leaf beds dark enclosures where lovers escape the detection of radars, explore,the unbridled ascent of carnal wishes,as if a permit is ingrained in the scent of exotic orchids wafting in the wind, allowing the wild run of instincts, a dam burst, here cobras prowl, tarantulas, at a quick look are exposed ******* with dark ******* on eight legs the desire stands,waiting for the next ***** lover, She was watching an insatiable pair of tarantulas in elaborate mating rituals,they move inside, cracks and burrows,concealed by the cover of darkness,they come out,to eat the night flowers, exhaling ****** hunger; their dark, devious fingers, touching, caressing finding each other's intimate  parts has a dark frenzy... he saw the blue glimmer of a concealed weapon,smeared on by amour, as they tumble in bed,she flashes her most venomous smile, like the quick move of the sharp end of a bodkin, Tarantula's love affair,when it all are over, her lover's end comes near.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC
Tarantula's amour
Blood, now boils quick, it's intense, he is in fire, on her every touch, there is a special anesthetic a poisonous binge, causes tidal waves go berserk in his stream of blood,tangible effects of arousal results, body now is a vast field,  goosebumps sprout like spotted magic mushrooms after a night long rain and thunderclaps, the salacious intent of the scent of woman,wafts, singing pheromones perfectly rhyme with *** center of the brain, "Ï am addicted to tarantula's love" his whisper sounds ominous, tarantula casts her net Serpentine vines tangle on wild trees,in natural history museum premises,trees fall down and rise, create leaf beds dark enclosures where lovers escape the detection of radars, explore,the unbridled ascent of carnal wishes,as if a permit is ingrained in the scent of exotic orchids wafting in the wind, allowing the wild run of instincts, a dam burst, here cobras prowl, tarantulas, at a quick look are exposed ******* with dark ******* on eight legs the desire stands,waiting for the next ***** lover, She was watching an insatiable pair of tarantulas in elaborate mating rituals,they move inside, cracks and burrows,concealed by the cover of darkness,they come out,to eat the night flowers, exhaling ****** hunger; their dark, devious fingers, touching, caressing finding each other's intimate  parts has a dark frenzy... he saw the blue glimmer of a concealed weapon,smeared on by amour, as they tumble in bed,she flashes her most venomous smile, like the quick move of the sharp end of a bodkin, Tarantula's love affair,when it all are over, her lover's end comes near.
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27
Thunderclaps and lightning bolts make the symphony of the night. Tonight they play "3 o'Clock Rain," orchestrated by God himself. All the stars sit in their balcony seats, adorned in their dazzling regalia. The moon man but peaks from behind his cloud curtain, too shy to show his face to the earthly audience. It is nature's lithe rolls and soft rumbling that sing me to sleep tonight.
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
Of symphonies and rainstorms
My voice is loud To make an echo in my soul I came in eyes wide Like a whirlwind And shook up a storm of a man. Decay and rust what once was gold Now common copper Broken homes You promised the world And left empty handed. The thunderclaps of your touch How do you leave what eats you up? Addicted to your darkness Cause when I see sun It rips apart my sadness. I'm delirious with delusions I envisioned more than this But your touch is hot like fire And I still long for your kiss When I'm alone at night, do you remember this? Bound men frown quietly Bound by pressures of society To be a man but you're a boy And boys just have to play with toys Not girls, not women you see But I hope you remember me.
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
Bound men frown quietly
A bold pirate vanquished King Phillip’s hapless galleons, bathed himself in gold peso coins manic fingers feverishly caressing the lucre. Mindless with greed he sailed into rough waters where great whales watched as gales ripped the grommets that held the cords that secured the sails and the great sheets collapsed like canvas shrouds. Still the pirate caressed each coin ignoring the rogue waves oblivious to the grand schools of whales gathering around. Singing in chorus the great behemoths mused patient in their knowing man’s treasure destiny is always on the floor of the deep ocean. The captain sank with his ship his pockets laden with lustrous gold and his silk shirt billowed in the current like a flag announcing his descent to a place where he could not breathe and nothing could be bought and the whales slaps their flukes on the water’s surface in thunderclaps of applause.
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 7:08 AM UTC
GOLD AT THE BOTTOM
Gunshots and poems is what I dream as the press into hearts and pages of sad lonely notebooks and people that just need a word or a wound to feel complete one last time I dream of church bells and screams that drown each other out as their finest moments in wailing agony and peaceful chimes to let us know that everything could change in the blinking of an eye Thunderclaps and steak knifes fill the nightmares that I dream creating death-filled settings full of evil laughs and clowns to haunt everything we could ever want to ever be I dream of the future full of me and you with smiles and giggles of tickle fights and cheek kisses galore and sparkles in two peoples' eyes of nothing but pure happiness
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
I dream
A thunderstorm rushes in summer making us sheltered and hide away into our barrier. Under drumbeats from the gloomed sky, we watch streams of rivers flow beneath our feet. As the wind began howling, I look to see the world being shaken. Have the rain being thrown all around us, twisting and turning as the wind dances with it. There were flashes up above us, a symphony of sound, From the roll of thunder. We step outside and see the whirly world. Hearing the claps in the distance, We raise our heads smelling the sweet new air. Bright flickering blots shoot across the sky, making a light show for the world and I. Raindrops came down one by one, perfect diamonds shattering to the ground. While I hide from the storm, the world opens its arms and sings along. Where thunderclaps and lightning burst above is a symphony from the angels. The heavens put on a show just for the both us. As the final heavy raindrops played the last notes of the song, The drumbeats rolled away, The flashing stopped, A hush of silence crept over the world, The sun’s warm rays peeked through the clouds, A new cord struck a note as birds flutter their damp wings while soaring through the painted sky. The soft decline of sound that comes after the storm.
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
the quiet before the storm
brainstorming i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself, “this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.” i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me. i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit. i know i’ll finish this soon. i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it. i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in. i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping. my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences. as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 2:35 AM UTC
brainstorm
brainstorming i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself, “this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.” i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me. i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit. i know i’ll finish this soon. i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it. i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in. i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping. my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences. as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.
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11
I can tell you that touching you makes me shiver. It's like sometimes when I try to speak I choke on the words as if an ocean I keep in my throat- an abode for the Poseidon in your midst. Stay with me like cataclysm with a sinner, lie to me; I'm made of cardboard and tape, I can take it. Your soft tsunamis of tongue, a voice like thunderclaps, you could make Zeus blush- a blinding fire shut behind his eyelids, and an earthquake in every touch. They tell stories and call you apocalyptic, but to me you're just the hiss of the snake keeping guard to what he thinks he should be protecting.
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
Apocalyptic
Rain clouds, swirling emotions, crowd the horizon, mind is taken over by wistfulness, sitting on her throne of pain alone,the poet cradles her heart, to a trance she slips, wings to a world, everything is possible---- melting heart's alchemy, builds a metaphoric edifice she wills to live in it incognito for ever none will discover this secret unless rarely an intrepid reader without even knocking on the door comes in perhaps, if a sweet suspicion arises, when resonating with it's ambiguous core, and gets  a mute invitation, the poem now is a lit house, in the pitch darkness of life two inhabitants with different visions choose to live, this house of metamorphosis, with increasing rooms gets more visitors, who come and stay, at times they wish. times invariably change, visitors swell or become a trickle, the house well founded in the strength of a metaphor is alive, around it's fireplace generations would huddle, find solace, they hear the beats of thunderclaps and songs of pouring rain.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
Poet's secret
Thunderclaps in the ears, A crown of grey hovers, Sordid and sorrow, absurdly familiar with a half smile. Ironic and inflated with nerves Of rubber bands, atrociously Used to the jester's tears And the slow agony of its entertainment. And we stand when it hurts, Pace when we are worried, Let us walk the daily grind...... Through it all we cry and fizzle, Drowned in the warmth of the tears, The pain is familiar, the saddest clown!
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 5:12 PM UTC
Happiness of Pain
Lightning sets fire, Thunderclaps rattle dark clouds; Rainstorm declares war!
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Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC
Monsoon’s war drums
One day, the sun lights up the sky Warm air blows grass from side to side The next, the clouds are black Rain brewing between thunderclaps On that warm day your face shines bright Conflict run from you without a fight But when those clouds come storming through I must learn quick how best to deal with you Do I give you space or ignore what's wrong? How do I ensure that today we'll get along? Questions, questions on my mind Yet without them I'm just living life blind For you, I'd rather face every challenge around Than have lived without your voice a familiar sound These aren't just words to make a rhyme This is how I feel daily, all the time I plan to keep you forever in my life No drifting, no quiting, at least on my side Please, please why can't you see You're one of a kind, I need you close to me You're not like other friends No, not even close You're hot-headed, yet thoughtful And to me you mean the most So take my words, my thoughts, my soul Keep me in your heart wherever I may go Yes, the weather will change from day to day Sun in the sky or black rivers that flow But no matter how dark, no matter how bright I'll be there through it all, I'll keep you in my life My love is yours, you never need to say sorry Because forever and always, you'll be my Amare
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Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 1:23 PM UTC
Amare
It's late afternoon The sky bleeds purple As buildings claw at its fabric December breathes coldly And I feel them as if they are tempests I can see every crack on the pavement Hear the footsteps of the ebbing crowd As if they are thunderclaps I feel all And they are all mine I am awake It's evening Streetlamps flicker like flames The houses are dead silent And what my gaze befalls is my own But I am nothing and everything The horizon is but a blanket Of a little piece of the universe Sometimes it feels good to be small So that the world will be but a giant blur As if in a dream I am sleeping It's finally night The most beautiful face of the day For every time I close my eyes I scatter jewels beneath my eyelids I paint the silver crescent of the moon on the dome of my skull And I find peace in the dark where others find fear In the absence of heaven's eye Angels sing me to sleep with cherubic lullabies While my mind grasps at the vastness of the universe And I have found the greatest escape I am alive. It's quiet. This is the only happy I will ever be.
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Somnus
Sometimes I'd call her sunshine just so she'd smile smooth and easy, like it was the natural thing to do - but we both knew she was rain clouds and tornadoes heavy hail and broken thunderclaps. Yes, she was my storm but I still loved her silly she'd call me silly never said "I Love you" or ask for another kiss or trust me with any of this - no, she just called me silly so I loved her that way
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Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 10:41 PM UTC
My Silly Sunshine
*when the rain calls this smitten heart falls and there are heavy showers in its pensive chambers torrid feelings are brewed as the day's fare is stewed raucous are the thunderclaps across a grieving heart that feasts upon the sad cuisine spewed forth by vindictive life and abetted by an ailing soul this song will never end and the tears will never stop for it keeps raining in my heart*
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
it keeps raining in my heart
I'd have sung to the strum of your guitar I'd have danced around while you smiled crooked and laughed like thunderclaps I'd have held your hand and rubbed my thumb against freckled skin, finding affirmations tucked in the crevices and cracks of hard-working hands I'd have kissed you in the sunshine, on the back porch, while the sun set, while mosquitoes flew around our heads, in your bedroom, listening to your favorite soundtracks, backstage, underneath table cloths, next to your best friend I'd have touched you like lightning bolts, caught all your storms in jars, worn your soft skin inside and out and told you all my kindled secrets if you'd have let me I'd have loved you like a summertime
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:54 AM UTC
I'd have..