thunder

Massed Thunder

Folder: 
Positive Thought


Massed Thunder

 

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'In the mountains

God has massed

divine thunder.
Belief can hasten

the power's

breaking asunder.

-saiom shriver-

 

orbitaleccentricity.wordpress.com

 

www.whitegadget.com

 

http://www.physicalgeography.net/fundamentals/images/thunderstorm.jpg

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Deceitful Rain

How deceitful is rain? 

like on a hot summers evening

when the drizzle looks ice cold

but upon walking outside 

you find it hotter than the air. 

Or when the droplets look like satin 

falling gently to the earth

but when they touch your skin

it feels like you'll be left with bruises. 

My favorite is when a storm rocks you to sleep

then jolts you awake with a crash of thunder! 

Rain tempts my deceitfulness as well

because even though a nighttime storm is my favorite lullaby, 

I pretened it scares me to death so that I can cuddle up in your arms

and curl against your warm body, that protects me from my "fears." 

 

Maybe that's all the rain really wants, 

to be cuddled up and protected…

 

but then again, how can you trust rain? 

wailing undertones

Folder: 
Nature / Folder 1

 

............

 

 

dimly lit skies, and a dewey, warm waft of air

saturates my skin with breezy atmospheric breath,

in the distance, dark luminous clouds frame the skyline,

like a syndicate of angry politicians after an unfulfilled mutiny,

scathingly awaiting a liberating reprise.

 

clusters of dark grey sheets loom 

behind multiple satiny sheer curtains of microbursts

that frolick beyond the parched brush,

and far away, a crescendo of rumbling chaotic warnings

can be heard, but it's arrival is unknown

and the length of it's stopover a mystery.

 

still, i am confident as i witness it all,

my mind's eye knowing of the sun's 

flirtatious collaborations 

in this dramatic dance 

of nature's undertones of fury,

and await the show with anticipation.

 

as i pull in the driveway i hear

the expected yelping 

of a 70 pound red heeler/sharpei mix,

his keen aural senses in a tizzy.

 

7:31 PM 7/21/13 ©

 

 ................

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(ok--he's really 98 lbs. but i was thinking he would have been mad at me if i put that in a poem--we're on a diet lol)

 

Expanding here upon the magnificence of power nature has over us. That there will always be something or someone that has power over us---of that we have only left, a choice of how to perceive it---and that our inner strength of character and faith, during those moments, is really all we have left in the face of any fear, no matter how overwhelming. 

:-)

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When Death Feeds

Folder: 
Light and Dark

After the thunder

Comes the rain

After a blow

Comes the pain

After it’s done

Comes the shame

You shouldn’t have done it

Brother Cain

 

Did you not know

That death is hungry

Did you not know

It always needs

Did you not know

It’s never full

Didn’t you know

It eats him who feeds

 

Cursed are you

For killing your brother

Start life anew

Far from another

Marked is your forehead

So you’ll never forget

Your feet feel like lead

Death feeds on you yet

 

Why does the sky cry

When I’m crying

Why does the wind howl

As I’m dying

Why do the animals whimper

As I bleed

Why is it so cold

When death feeds?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The story of Cain, the first murderer, who killed his brother Abel out of jealosy. This is written as Cain's point of view from his death-bed many hundreds of years later.  Enjoy

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Bad Luck

Folder: 
Nature Poems

8' O clock
Knock Knock
Rain tapping
Lightning snapping
Thunder breathing under

Pat pat
See that cat?
It forgot its rain hat
It's a world full of bad luck

Pour pour
Lighting soar
There's no where to hide anymore
Bad luck forevermore

Roar roar
Thunder at my clammy door
Shake me, break me
Give me the bad luck

What bad luck!
I am stuck!

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Raven's cradle

Don't be afraid my little raven, do your best;
It's just the wind and thunder that shake our nest.

They scare the weak, you must be strong,
Remember, the disaster will last for long.

Do not be frightened by the western star,
That illuminates my sacred scars.
They are just the shadows of the past,
That tease the disaster's lust.

By the western wind the twigs are torn
My feathering seems to be by disaster shorn.

My time will come, you'll be alone,
But see, if you are strong,
You will not hear the thunderstorm,
Nor the wind blow its horn.

My child, You shall see them course,
You shall hear them whisper the name of yours.

Don't be afraid my little raven, do your best;
It's just the wind and thunder that shake our nest.

A Violent Personification

Bang Bang!
Click, Click.
My targets fall
real quick,
bleeding (as if I care)
my shells float,
soaking up blood.
I shine like black silver
and roar ruthless thunder.
Silencing the argument,
your lives lie in my hand,
an indifferent one,
a violent one.

-Ryan K. Fuller

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Thought I'd give one of these a try

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