rain

Frivolity in the Midst of Danger

Come on, take my hand.

There’s a stunning carnival

Right in front of us.

 

It lights up the night

Like a group of fireflies.

 

Don’t you see that we have

A chance to rule the night?

 

So what are you waiting for?

 

There’s lots to do.

So much to see.

Our hearts will guide us.

No point in holding back now.

 

We only live once.

We can’t waste this time away.

The night is so young,

But baby, so are we at heart.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

 

Why are you so scared?

Is the rotating wheel barrel blocking our path?

Did the power outage cause your heart to beat so loud?

 

Intensive moments build up character and bravery.

Your fears are below you now.

 

The storm may have

Crashed the party,

 

But that’s not how I see it.

Being so close to danger

 

Puts what we’ve learned to the test.

So let’s stand our ground.

And not wait until tomorrow.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Trees On Here (First Haiku, ca. '19)




Trees On Here (First Haiku of 2019)

 

Raindrops have been drained

Taking things with it on earth

Life demystified









Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is just a first ever attempt at composing a "haiku" (a Japanese poem/poetic style or form, described as traditionally evoking nature—according to my mobile device's built-in definition).  It is, in fact, my first ever haiku this year (the year 2019).  The poem was meant to be an affected poem, since it was originally done with little clue about the Japanese mindset & was considered to be a practice poem batched with another similar poem (my first ever "tanka" composition: Trees In The Green).  The motivation for it was neither considered meaningful nor entirely meaningless, also (to be quite descriptive about its neutralist view of the whole process).  Not meaningful in that the metaphor might not really consist a significant/insignificant part among the majority of my entry posts; but just by virtue of, admittedly, trying to make this type of a poem for its objective praxis.  Therefore my compositional skills is on its experimental stages.  Please kindly bear with me.


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Rain, You Fall! [Haqueian Verse]

Folder: 
Haqueian Verse

Rain,


You fall,


From the sky,


Wash off the,


Pain!

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Birth

Birth

                          By JFarrell

 

The lightening strikes;

My skin prickles with its intensity;

My breath catches

And though I hear the first undulating rumblings,

It’s only when I feel the thunder’s vibrations beneath my feet,

That my clenched chest is released and I can breath again.

 

Outside, the rain lashes my windows like pebbles;

The wind howls its sorrow, its fear;

But in the darkness of my tower, I smile;

My whole body is tingling with the power and excitement;

  1. … 2… 1…

     

    I push the lever as the lightening turns my world to blind silver

    And the breath is sucked out of me;

    As the very atmosphere is awakened by the charge

    And is drawn, as if by the elements themselves,

    To the heart of the patchwork cadaver before me.

     

    I hold my breath in anticipation;

    Eyes wide with excitement, smiling like an idiot

    As the stampede of static-charged air centres on me

    And crashes in with an explosion of bass

    Forcing me to me knees.

     

    And,

    In the stillness of the storm;

    Between the lightening and the thunder;

    Between the rat-a-tat of the rain;

    I hear IT breathe.

                     :-)

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

thank you Victor F.

On Nights, Such as This…

On Nights, Such as This…

By JFarrell

 

On nights, such as this…

 

The rain teems down in sheets

From a deep indigo sky

Laden with thick, heavy, ominous clouds

 

The lightening strikes down as serrated blades

Followed by, at first, a quiet, almost unnoticeable murmur

Which grows in depth and volume to become a deafening rumble

 

The only other sound

is the hypnotic sibilance of the rain

Droning out a tattoo

 

On nights, such as this…

 

Guy Fawkes and his conspirators plotted

ISIS contrive their next act of cowardice

The dark creatures feel stronger

 

Highywaymen held up coaches

Punks with knives rob the weak

And those that thrive in darkness feel braver

 

On nights, like this

Vermin are given more courage

To rob, rape, kill…..  

anything a coward thinks will make him a man

 

Because, the day shows the shameful, pathetic excuse for the man he really is

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

yep, raining here :)

Rain

Folder: 
Haqueian Verse

Rain,


Is born,


When the clouds,


Make love keenly,


Again!

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tags:

Rain

Folder: 
Haiku

The rain cleanses us;

Cleans us of impurity;

Clears us of our sins.


Many try to hide,

But even stone starts to crack,

So why try to run?


Face the cleansing rain.

In the end it finds us all.

None can escape it.

When will It Rain?

The earth wants it,


So do the people,


The trees, birds, mountains,


And the tiniest of the sea-ripple!


 

Oh God! When will it rain?


When will comfort as a shawl,


Keep on enveloping almost everything?


We are waiting for you, O rainfall!


 

We have been in intolerable pain!

 

Protect us by visiting soon, O rain!

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tags:

One Determined Little Spider

The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. 

Down came the rain and it washed the spider out.

Out came the sun and it dried up all the rain.

And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again.

For as many times as I’ve heard that song that damn spider must have crawled up the water spout five-hundred-trillion times. Why even climb back up at all? Why not go find a nice little dry corner of the world to weave your web, little spider? You could just find yourself a nice little corner in an attic somewhere to live your life and you will never have to worry about inclement weather conditions. It just seems as though of all places, you are determined to place yourself in the most impractical position possible- at the top of a water spout. The glut of spiders that crowd my attic always seem to be in the most obscure corners and crevasses as if they know to prepare themselves for that one fateful December day when I make the trek up the ladder to pull down the Christmas tree. Hanging around by a water spout is just asking to be rained upon and washed out isn’t it? Nevertheless, I don’t know any songs about the hoard of attic spiders that dwell across the land far and wide; I know a song about you – the itsy bitsy spider who keeps climbing up that damn water spout.

 
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