"tornadic" poems
"Dawn"
I wonder where the prayers went...after years spent sitting in the darkness looking for a change that never came...it never came...and...
Where Is My Diamoonnnd!!!!???
All I Have is coal...
And why....
Why can't I have 3 wishes at least?...
Because change never came...it never came...
Only the Storm remained.
But when being present was a requirement, there transpired a lucid calm...
Mmm...
If only it could be grasped like bed sheets the night the Storm was conceived...
Oh I wish those knees could have been broken!!!...
So they wouldn't have opened to receive...seed...or conceive...
Forgive me..
I pray for a mime to be a fly on the wall of these thoughts!!
I pray the clouds part so the sun can shine and you find rest..
Because....
Everything's better when you are asleep...
Suffering through your Own nightmares...
What happened to the maternal instinct purposed to protect you, nurture you to a point of functionality?
Is there such thing as functional with you?...
Or
Did you wear out your place of origin to where you're no longer sought for or welcomed?
Was it a joy to desert such a never ending storm?
Is there no remorse?
Not for your abandonment...but for society...
No thought for the trail of derailed strangers who will never forget the name of the tornadic soul who impacted them tragically...?
Tragic....
Your calms last long enough to fall in love with the beauty in between..and it is so beautiful.
But...
Not long enough to prepare for your next season...and...
Why.....
Why won't you learn to warn your lovers?
So they may brace for...
Dawn...
Oh...
But...wait...
Look...
The sun...
The sun is coming...
The heavens still love me...
So...
Since the sun is out,
I love you...
Sweet dreams.
~Say Dat~
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 11:48 PM UTC
I see you stirring
out in the far southwest
Just now I feel your wind
licking my face
I see something so awesomely
beautiful .
I want you to come home to my place
I see your naked thighs
shaking your hips of desire
I am amazed as you snake
through my ruins
Throwing kisses of debris
Stripping off the bark
of my trunk
I long for your twisted breath
in my hair
as you pound my foundation
to the ground
You splinter my resistance
My bricks fall into your embrace
Your black hair goes flared
Be my tornadic love affair
Stay with me until your thunder bares
All lightnings charge
making me glow everywhere
Twirl me , separate me ,
take your toll
I lie under your spell
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Vayu stands at the shore , with arms outstretched , shrieking wind from four corners of Earth ! Tornadic winds , vigorous , turbulent , battle of ocean and Moon , every tree racked with its ferocity ......
Parvati appears at the horizon , releasing pheromone across the waters , pulling seed to sunlight , fruit to vine , unleashing the rebirth of plant and animal ! ... Kama appears at the edge of the multitude of new tree , grass and herb , power of wind carrying pheromone dominating the air , forcing his very hand ! Love is all consuming and alive !
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
She entered through the back bedroom window .
She said she had my key
When I foolishly asked her
"Why you crossexamining me ?"
I dropped out of the University
I got myself a steady job
Working part time on the weekends
It had benefits without the friends
Then I spent the coldest winter
Without any heat or bread
I microwaved Idaho potatoes
They called me "Tater Head"
Now didn't anybody see
Now was there anyone who cared
Sunday was just another Monday
When is a rabbit not a hare ?
Well I found myself another girlfriend
I was sure now of her honesty
I came home from work one evening
To find my microwave wasn't there
Now I could have sat down and cried
But I never had a chair
Just some cushions on the floor
Hot and cold roaches everywhere
Now the future was looking bleak
Winter turned to spring you see
A thunderstorm turned tornadic
Took my apartment away from me
Didn't anybody see
I'm sure that nobody cared
Sunday turned into a Monday
All I said was,"So there" . . . oh , my .
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC
Evelina’s fence of lichened cedar
slouches at the wetland border
her willows wildly weep
on silken cattail shoulders
the neighbors say she’s crazy
snidely call her Javelina
she's sane as any one of them
this brilliant winter morning
Evelina speaks of weather and dogs
hers, a Chihuahua named Fawn
mine, a Frenchie named Sparky
the weather, typically Northwest
in parting, sculpted driftwood
spiraling tornadic rings gifted
between palms roughly
worn by time and sea
Evelina’s yard is thick with trees
the neighbors want cut down
for now, she’s doing all she can
just holding swampy ground
each morning wakes triumphant
to beachcomb on the shore
pockets weighed with treasure
this moment, nothing more
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
I sometimes wonder if you realize
just how tumultuous the
back
and
forth
in my head becomes day in
and day out.
I see the way you look at me,
as if you could gaze right through
the side of my skull,
and into my very thoughts,
as you wonder what's going on in there.
So
very
much.
Tornadic
thoughts
hurl
themselves
about,
and it takes all efforts to keep
my exterior placid
But the calmness is the clue you need
to know that something is brewing within.
And I'm too tired to explain,
so I leave you there, and let you wonder.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
An eye in the sky
By the moon does spy
Zooms in down to earth
On a boy wondering why
In leisure he sits
In open window sill high
Of the school's west wing
On the band hall side.
Feeling the wind passby
His face and through hands
Smell the flowers nearby
And gazing into the sky
Where the eye dost lie
But outside the obvious
Of beautiful blue sky.
There is a tornadic storm
Where in the mind does lie
The gravity of love
And he still wonders why
He waits window sill high.
Staring into azure sky
Waiting for the one he loves
Wondering if their fates will tie.
While he lounges day by day
As the yellow eyes passes him by,
Either to love or die.
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 5:30 PM UTC
There is no time
As you time passes through
Eye's perpetual needle
And a basic understanding,
There are no seasons
That resonate forms and certain
Needs,
There is not enough time
For anger and happinesses,
Only that it remains equal
In the chaos of a a hurried
Mind,
A flutter into tornadic
Expressions,
A desire into a yearning fire,
Indirectly the season gives
A feel,
The cold winter she walked
Into the wind and her hair did
Not move, time does not beat
There, but arches into
A future,
That summer the sweat
Off your brow bought the car
Of a dream in a dream,
Carefully time snuck by
And perfected a moment's
Theory,
A man needs both time and
Stillness to recognise that
All is fleeting,
And the only thing real
Is the mist,
In the mist
A temporal moan.
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
a man knows the look of a woman's face when they know that she wants ***
as he stares straight into her fiery eyes
and wonder what's going to happen next
she lays her hands upon his chest
as she pushes him to the bed
then she goes undoes his pants
and starts to give him head
he lays with this look up on his face
a look of wondrous pleasure
as he looked at the woman who's making him feel this way
he tells her she's his treasure
as he erupts with a scream of passion
the feeling is so good
he tell oh how sweet she is
and not to be misunderstood
she gave him satisfaction
As he cuffed her in his arm
he tells her of the wonders power she had
like a mighty tornadic storm
she knew she made him happy
and satisfied him too
you just don't know how pleased she was
you just don't have no clue
the moral of the story
is to always please your man
and he will always appreciate you
and on his pedestal you will stand
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
a night of horror when closer to an edge
why post hale is frost and sessions ready grow indelibly
but this graph of tornadic activities is in seasons that link with terror
as these sounds are supposed
dead by nightfall there in rounds a vacuum as a bog
with the stream in time always lore
that hinds are grouped
and in deep silver rose heart but with matching lines
this cryptic fisher afield puissance
en route to parallel city of god
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 12:12 PM UTC
She's like the wind;
spontaneous
refreshing
tornadic
and gentle.
I need every gust from her.
I need every whispered breeze from her.
Her gusts make me feel alive.
Her breezes are sensual like full lips on my neck.
Only she can blow me the way that she does.
Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 7:10 AM UTC
my wishes of clarity aren’t answered in time, I am in a state of longing.
I am a drizzle.
My mind is full of fantasies. My heart full of accidental burdens.
I am now the rain.
It won’t clear, I still feel that longing, It begins loathing in my heart.
My rain pours and I turn into a storm.
A being formed on the verge of insanity and off the coast of tornadic, and a mind on the verge of chaotic.
I calm.
Leaves falling to the ground as my unforgiving rains relent.
But it is merely momentary. For the thoughts always return.
The rains pour as my mind clouds, the winds rise as my heart sinks. My eyes water as the thoughts circle around and around in my consciousness.
I am a hurricane
Let me whine on my via dolorosa.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
I have only my soul to blame
On addled nights when my weary heart rattles and bangs
In its bone cage the thrumming beats
Terrified finches flailing in the wake of a gloved hand
And I am sold to the child clutching wrinkled wet bills
And sticky Christmas change
Who’ll forget to feed me by New Year’s Day
Small songs left unsung and talons cramp from a perch unfit
To sustain me
I have only my soul to blame
When lofty thoughts plummet
High places and walls fall the buttresses too frail for
Architects flights of fancy
I was built for low shelter
A dugout in the western wind
Small solace in the face of tornadic spin
Scatter the crops and erase the traces of gentle humanity
Frail daisies wont sustain me
I have only my soul to blame
When words that course through veins
Carry more than the love of blood and bone
And I am alone with nothing but whispers and wrinkled wet sheets
Rhapsodies and rhymes they crackle like the shucked husks
On the threshing floor my dreams no more worth
Than the paper scribbling balled up around my feet
This written lie
Never penned to sustain me.
TL Boehm
11/30/13
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
Quieted by my solitude,
Serene in my tornadic thoughts,
Alone this peaceful interlude,
Escaping feelings overwrought.
Immune to chaos and torment,
My heart is in the typhoon’s eye.
Though burned I’ve felt my pain relent,
Your love for me’s the reason why.
Anguish my one and only friend,
Loneliness meant desperation,
And I could never comprehend,
Feeling loved in isolation.
I thank you for the thought of you.
It’s the most present thing I’ve known.
This is what makes a soulmate true—
You’re here even when I’m alone.
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 10:20 AM UTC
*Red ships sailed for the
Harvest moon , demons led
council in red coals , in wavering
cold air , for a moment burnt pine shared the sun ,
crackling songs were slowly sung ,
evening zephyrs corralled white smoke in a tornadic stranglehold atop nights wooden pyre* ...
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 9:36 PM UTC
those with
diseased branches
will always
be rooted out.
by an unrelenting,
path
paving
tornadic spout.
truth creates
a destructive
vortex to
one's true
colors.
on the wind's
of shadows
blow the
counterfeit
dollars.
tend not
to the
circus of
charade.
never fall
prey to a
costume of
masquerade.
dark
cloudy lies
this tornado
may rain.
an umbrella
of sage will
save you
the pain.
keep the
streets clean
of your own
ignorant
blood stain.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 11:10 AM UTC