Storm

Folder: 
2016

 

Rumble, rumble, the tumble of the rumbles, come

As she fills her pockets with rainbows, and lightening bolts.

Cutting her fingers on shards of electricity, she tries to stop

The weakening of the seams on the coat of the dreams.

 

Tumble and tumble head full of promises, rumble on         

In the search for a lining, silver in nature

To plaster the holes of her memory and the hemorrhaging

Of her hands in the coat of the dreams.

 

Stumble and stammer and stumble some more

Hiding from the lightening, frightened inside

Fingers bloodied and chard from proximity

Hidden deep in the coat of the dreams.

 

Rumble and rumble the storms have been sated

Hued lights and flashes seep from the folds

She palms up her hands and wonders did it happen

Or did the seams finally split on the coat of the dreams.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Did love happen.  Did i miss it? I heard the rumble of the distant thunder and started to write. It's not about him, but it is about him.  Its not about us, but it is about us. Its just some words arranged on a page very nice. Yea They can't always be about him...but they are. I want to offer this my line by line explanation

Storm

 

Rumble, rumble, the tumble of the rumbles, come                              Atmosphere that produces lightning and rainbows, someone’s favorite weather

As she fills her pockets with rainbows, and lightning bolts.               The good and bad you speak of but really just provisions

Cutting her fingers on shards of electricity, she tries to stop              Buts she finds it’s not the good thing she thought

The weakening of the seams on the coat of the dreams.                       But destroys the very thing she wants to preserve

 

Tumble and tumble head full of promises, rumble on                                  The dream made promises (not personal here)

In the search for a lining, silver in nature                                                     With the coat falling apart it needs reinforcing, find a sappy silver lining

To plaster in the holes of  her memory wall and the hemorrhaging    I was thinking of, Shakespears Julius Ceaserf grinding the bones to make clay for the hole but also of old fashioned plaster gauze tape

Of her hands inserted in the coat of the dreams.                                       Stemming the Bleeding hands

 

Stumble and stammer and stumble some more                                 It just gets ugly here     

Hiding from the lightning, frightened inside                                            and uglier

Fingers bloodied and chard from proximity                                         truly grotesque

Hidden deep in the coat of the dreams.                                                   Hidden like abuse is hidden in the dream’s coat

 

Rumble and rumble the storms have been sated                              It passes or is sated sometimes you think did that really happen

Hued lights and flashes seep from the folds                         Like a spent lover or unrequited love the rainbow drains out  and the lightning still flashing

She palms up her hands and wonders did it happen               he pulls out her hands (unscarred) in disbelief

 Or did the seams finally split on the coat of the dreams.             The dream is pulled from her like a tablecloth trick.

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Sassylass's picture

Lightning

strikes! wonderful romantic write!

If it is and you feel it, it tumbled rumbled onto the page for all that read it to also enjoy...I just did!

hugs


Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....

Words

 

djtj's picture

Romantic? only thing romantic

Romantic? only thing romantic is the word sated. Not to critic your critic lol.  It's an exercise in the raw feelings of dreams and hope tearing me apart when the storm of love rumbles through leaving me bloodied and scared, and confused. i picture a woman in the sky like a star constellation gathering lightening bolts and rainbow colors into her oversized men's coat.  With it's loose belt and floppy labels, she ambles across the horizon like a cautionary tale from American Indian folk lore. Everything falls apart the energy and colors she gather seep away and rip her dreams of the man from her body. 

Thanks Ckk, didn't know I had that all hidden inside. 

Sassylass's picture

and that's a lot of stuff to bear, so sorry!

 I guess I perceived it as the reader differently than you as writer meant these fine words.

hugs! sorry,...


Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....

Words

 

djtj's picture

I'm glad you did

i like you're interpretation. Better for the soul.