I cracked dry from the pressure--
drought of hiding
in a barren world where I thought
the way I was
was just for show
and the rain only came back
when I told you no.
--
Title and Vienna Teng's song 'Drought' are prompt.
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
bad
I was always too good
at mincing words--spreading sympathy
like jelly on bread.
so when your desert heart
spun stories of me
I was far too polite to dispute.
I left a promise
to keep you looking to the sky,
far from where I crept away in the night.
knowing in my own guilty heart
how you would count the days
until the rain brought the lie,
and the truth.
--
Title prompt led me to this picture, the true inspiration for the poem.
at mincing words--spreading sympathy
like jelly on bread.
so when your desert heart
spun stories of me
I was far too polite to dispute.
I left a promise
to keep you looking to the sky,
far from where I crept away in the night.
knowing in my own guilty heart
how you would count the days
until the rain brought the lie,
and the truth.
--
Title prompt led me to this picture, the true inspiration for the poem.
Labels:
free verse,
picture inspired,
rain,
short,
weird
Monday, April 18, 2011
kiss
it was nothing more than a rainy day
which brought these branches to the ground,
cacophony of falling water splits bark,
plucks blossoms
before they bloom.
she knew all this,
from her vantage under the bridge,
expecting the water to rise.
but instead she found a world mesmerized
by its own chaos--
a river from the sky pouring
just steadily enough
to leave no room for interpretation:
this was the end,
with nothing to cling to
but she remained ankle-deep in the mud,
bare calves flushed grey with rising chill.
it was the progression that most pleased her,
as the tingling crawled up her skin
like cool fingers leaving numbness
in their wake,
as they took from her
all that she was and freely gave,
and left her with nothing but
the taste of indifference on her lips.
for this flow would sweep past
even without her to be carried by it.
--
Title and the rainy day by the creek are prompts. Make that two not poetry days.
which brought these branches to the ground,
cacophony of falling water splits bark,
plucks blossoms
before they bloom.
she knew all this,
from her vantage under the bridge,
expecting the water to rise.
but instead she found a world mesmerized
by its own chaos--
a river from the sky pouring
just steadily enough
to leave no room for interpretation:
this was the end,
with nothing to cling to
but she remained ankle-deep in the mud,
bare calves flushed grey with rising chill.
it was the progression that most pleased her,
as the tingling crawled up her skin
like cool fingers leaving numbness
in their wake,
as they took from her
all that she was and freely gave,
and left her with nothing but
the taste of indifference on her lips.
for this flow would sweep past
even without her to be carried by it.
--
Title and the rainy day by the creek are prompts. Make that two not poetry days.
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