While the storm outside is quieting down [2]
While the storm outside is quieting down
the last lightning bolts falls slamming
sounding like canon shots,
you are busy peeling an orange
and from fright you hand stops still
while we listen to the voice of the God.
While the storm outside is quieting down
the last lightning bolts falls slamming,
I polish the my pair of glasses,
you are again peeling in thin orange strips
that folds around your hand when you remember something
as if something has walked over your grave you are shuddering
while the storm outside is quieting down.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Conversation
Dad, I believe that you are resting where you are
that you are unaware of everything
as if you are only sleeping
but sometimes it feels
as if you are aware of my whole life,
then I wish that you could read my verses
as you were living for Afrikaans
and it was as if poems were in your blood
and I am wondering what you would have thought,
would have said as I am writing
every poem in English as well,
that it is the Scottish blood running true?
Sometimes when I see lightning bolts
trailing white blue down to earth,
getting the smell, almost like sulphur
where a thunderbolt falls
I am unafraid form being a child
and it’s as if I hear the voice of God
as if you are also near
like when I was a toddler
taking my hand in yours
and then I could not comprehend
that they were putting you in the cold earth,
it was if you had just left by your own will
which is a really strange thing
as you were truly in love with mom,
loved me and my younger brother
as if you would give your life for us
and when I go to your grave in the hillocks
at Heidelberg, at times I am dumb
as if an old pain
comes into my heart
and again I want to
walk into the hillocks with you
to gather protea flowers for mom
to give them to her in a glass vase
to together stand on the porch
while lightning bolt after lightning bolts
falls exploding form the sky,
to get the smell
of the first drops that are falling.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Uproar and after math for M'lady Catrina
The thunder growls and threatens war.
Storm clouds parade in massed array
and fierce blue bolts of lightning soar
To try and drive the clouds away.
Just for a moment all is still
The clouds appear prepared to fight.
The lightning bolts strike where they will
and pierce the clouds with spears of light.
The clouds disgorge much needed rain
upon the thirsty earth below
The fields will soon be green again
and once again the streams will flow.
The storm has passed it has moved on.
The air is feeling cool and clean.
But for damage which it has done.
You would not know the storm had been.
Though summer storms strike suddenly
it’s very seldom that they last
They pass over just as quickly
and are forgotten very fast.
Flash floods and overflowing drains
will be remedied speedily.
The storm provided much needed rains
the earth accepted greedily.
We should be grateful not complain
But being human we will do
We lose much less than what we gain.
The fruitful earth will bloom anew.
02/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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a Thunderstorm claps outside
There’s a thunder storm that claps outside
and lightning bolt after lightning bolt flashes past
and the first big drops fall
slamming on the roof
and there are cats and dogs
that finds shelter
and cosiness inside,
but it’s far better
to sit right against you
and to get a portion
of your own
spinach and feta quiche
poem by Gert Strydom
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That Rain
Thunder starts rolling in
As it fell from the skys
Rain
Oh how it knows me so
As I stand underneath it
While I welcomed it with wide open arms
With my head facing the lightning bolts up ahead
The rain drops upon my face
Like welcoming kisses
As the thunder roared louder than the mightiest lion
As the lightning bolts lit up the sky brighter than Vegas itself
I twirled in the rain
Not caring who saw
In that rain
That rain I welcomed ever so
That rain which had the softest touch I had ever felt
poem by Storm Pedersen
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The Lightning
I am lightning
A light here then gone
I am lightning
A flash quick and strong
I am lightning
My life to short to tell
I am lightning
The ground scorched where I fell
I am lightning
I never strike in twos
I am lightning
I shatter your light's fuse
I am lightning
Destroying what I touch
I am lightning
And I live as such
A storm has come upon me
The lightning I am strong
The rain falls around me
Makes my arc trails long
I fall from the heavens
Crashing to the earth
Though your call it beckons
I cannot stay by hearth
Though the fire warms me
I'm gone to fast to tell
Though the air, it fights me
I ring true the bell
This ground I've hit before
If not here then there
But it is the same ground
If not the same exchange
The moment I can stand
I'm tossed back to the sky
On the ground I'll never be
Not till the day I die
poem by John Dillenger II
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Awestruck for M lady Tara
Awestruck
In the distance peals of thunder
as the skies are rent asunder.
Massed ranks of clouds threatening rain
the lightning strikes and strikes again.
Forked spears of light, electric blue
can pierce the storm clouds through and through
The storm clouds offer no defence.
I know from past experience.
The lightning bolts will win again
and force the clouds to release rain
upon the thirsty earth below.
I watch and wait to see the show.
I watch in wonderment and awe
Although I‘ve seen it all before.
07/04/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Scent Of Oranges
when you peel
the orange
i smell the thrill of
citrus
it is the same peeling
that night
when you feel like
peeling the foreskin of
my penis.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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After Ventersdorp,4 April 2010
In storm language the wind talks
blind full of thunder
that draws blue lines
over the tar road
and the Jacarandas wriggle,
washing on balconies are jerked
and now angry
the wind howls and cries
and I see lightning bolts
slamming down near the Union Buildings.
Rows of maize fields greet me
where the knobs stand green
and there’s no peace
coming from the greeting
and in vain is waited on the murdered farmer
and somewhere there are cattle bellowing
but not for long anymore
as the slaughterers
are sharpening their Panga-blades
and have already violated the farmer
his wife and daughter,
have stolen what they can
and nobody can stop the plunder and pillage
of the country
as a swarm of locust are descending.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ill Be Thunder
Therell be a storm one night
Then Ill fly to you for shelter
Soaked in welcome rain
Falling to forbidden arms
Too breathless too helpless
Too restless to explain needing you
Therell be a storm one night
But you will find my place of hiding
Well watch the lights like children
Leave the fortress hand in hand
Ill be thunder
Youll be lightning
And well collide on dry land
Therell be a storm one night
And I will find no other rescue
Lost and far from home
Crying for some guiding light
Too reckless too helpless
Too hungry to refrain from needing you
Therell be a storm one night
The wind will drive me to your castle
And youll ignite the fire
Just as if everything were planned
Ill be thunder
Youll be lightning
And well collide on dry land
No betrayal
No denial no need to explain
Well collide
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem on my birthday
I see lightning bolts hammer-flaming down
before the rain
falls down in force like drops of hail
and on my forty seventh year
under a white hot sun
while the autumn is already busy
to skeleton at places around me,
rays burst through the steel grey clouds
while the storm subsides right there
swallows, finches and sparrows
flying up and down are calling
and some are sitting a lamppost full
and it feels as if my life’s cloak
is starting to unravel
and the cotton thread of it is thinning out
until it is almost worn through
and then you come
to decently wish me well
and it’s as if everything round me changes
to fit into this scene
and suddenly life is open and free
while we embrace
and I smell the freshness around us
and look deep
into your loving eyes.
[Reference: Poem on his birthday by Dylan Thomas.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Hope
Rain splashes around,
Heaven cries its tears.
Thunder crashes in the ears,
Screams its frustration.
Lightning blinds the eyes,
Unable to see truth.
Wet, noisy, blinding storm!
Heartbreaking, defeating, dark storm!
The storm will quiet, the storm will sweeten,
Even this shall pass away.
And now all is said and done,
Sweet fruit and crop have finally sprung.
poem by Lenore Lee
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When The Sun Was Throwing Its Last Rays On The Earth
When the sun was throwing its last rays on the earth,
your hand found mine at twilight,
the evening sky was suddenly smudged by blood
while the evening-wind was softly scattering sand,
while people hurried home from their jobs
and something in your glance had drawn me closer to you
and when suddenly lightning bolts were falling
we found shelter
against thunderbolts sounding ominous,
against the wild stormy wind
we stood for long moments in each other’s arms
while the rain were pattering down, while the storm quieted down
with the clouds suddenly drawing open
and the moon’s rays falling magically about us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Flying Dutchman
The blue water stretches
as far as visibility allows to see
and there’s fog
rising white before the storm
out of the water.
The dusk becomes grey
and the sea from blue to dark black
while the night
darker than ink, as only companion
folds over the old ancient ship.
It’s Van der Decken standing as tiller man
behind the big wheel
and forever he steers the ship
on the journey that she goes.
Always cursing
his loud voice thunders
like lightning falling around him
for sailors to tend the sails right
and sails are hoisted crunching, groaning and trembling
with strong ropes
and the ship jumps
over the smashing waves.
Like a phantom
the Flying Dutchman appears
with white sails like a wraith
over the horizon
where it sails before a storm with speed.
The ship becomes lager
as the storm wind
brings her closer
and you hear her creak
against the power of the wind.
There’s thunder bolts blinding suddenly
and sea birds flies screeching
out in front of her,
while Van der Decken’s skeleton
drills his men powerless
to set the sails right
that is vibrating against the wind.
“How long still Lord, ”
echoes against the sea and sky,
without a answer
ever coming
and suddenly the ship is gone
as if it disappeared in the naught.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In A Lifetime
Clannad
Hard to tell
Or recognize a sign
To see me through
A warning sign
First the thunder
Then the storm
Torn asunder
In the storm
(bono
Satisfied
If the past it will not lie
The future, you and i
Get blown away)
In a lifetime in a lifetime
And as the rain it falls
Heavy in my heart
Believe the light in you
Faded and worn
Torn asunder in the storm
(bono
Begin again
As the storm breaks through
So the light shines in you
Without color
Torn asunder in the storm
Unless the sound has faded from
Your soul
Unless it disappears)
First the thunder
Then the storm
Torn asunder
In the storm
(bono:
Selfish storm
Hold on the inside
One life
In the storm)
In a lifetime
In a lifetime
In a lifetime
In a lifetime
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black cloud in a storm
Black cloud in a storm
I fell lkie a black cloud in a storm.
But stuck in the storm I am.
So depressed so sad.
Hurt angry and alone.
Death now will be the end of me.
I cant live another day.
Another day in the storm.
I want to go to sleep
And not wake up again.
So so very tired.
I'll always be in the storm.
For as long as my heart beats.
When my heart stops beating.
I'll be out of the storm.
And once again free
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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It Smells Like Rain
It smells like rain
filling the air
before the first drops break
in quiet splashes on the river.
It smells like rain
musty and fresh at once
warning the birds
to go home.
And the rain comes
water on water
cool rush of sound
quieting insects
teasing fish
drenching boaters
surprised by the storm.
It smells like rain
It sounds like rain
It looks like rain, now
I’ll go outside
and feel the rain.
Hell. I’ll be the rain.
poem by Robert Fort
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Difficult To Quit If One Is Wishing They Could
Accustomed to being good,
It spoils the anticpation.
The first time in the getting of it,
Is the best remembered.
And from there and when repeated,
The expectation is just to get that fix.
With a quieting done that comes to one,
Addicted to a habit and getting it quick.
Satisfying a habit gratified automatically,
Is difficult to quit if one is wishing they could.
With a quieting done that comes to one,
Addicted to a habit and getting it quick.
And from there and when repeated,
The expectation is just to get that fix.
The first time in the getting of it,
Is the best remembered.
Accustomed to being good,
It spoils the anticpation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Storm
The Storm is coming
The day when nothing will matter
When troubles will be gone and war will be history
The storm is coming
Make you are prepared
it will come with no warning.
No one will know the day of it destruction
The storm is coming
Feel it's wrath
Everything you do now will be meaningless
Everything sticks and nothing is forgotten
The day of judgement is at hand
The storm is coming
Have you taken heed
Have you changed your ways
Have seen the errors you have made
Have you heard the sound of pain you have caused
The storm is coming and those who don't take heed will fall.
The storm is coming
It will be unavoidable
Be prepared and be afraid
poem by Rachel Branscombe
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Tallyn Tor
‘I’m only the flotsam, jetsam drift
Cast up on your bars and beaches,
The glittering shift that you can’t resist
When viewed from your northern reaches,
I didn’t come down in a thunderstorm
Or a blast from your heaven’s lightning,
But cast ashore from the devil’s maw
As the jaws of the storm were tightening.’
‘You watched from the walls of Tallyn Tor
My stars and clouds surround me,
The smoke and drift of an ancient shift
That will always whirlwind round me.
Not even the peace of a lonely beach
Could trouble the storm that caught me
For I sink or swim in the storm within,
Not the eye of the storm that brought me.’
‘Deep in the halls of Tallyn Tor
Your hand was the hand to greet me,
And during the wintering months of war
Did your fevered storms defeat me.
If ever the tide should turn, should turn
In claiming its own around it,
I’ll leave the beach and the lover’s reach
As empty as flotsam found it.’
14 March 1975
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Mere Spectator for JT Ellison
Clouds of gunmetal grey amass
above the distant mountains peaks.
Loudly the voice of thunder speaks.
But I fear not this too will pass.
I watch the lightning bolts which soar.
Long streaks of incandescent blue.
Which pierce the storm clouds through and through.
Though I have seen it all before.
I am held captive by the sight.
I cannot tear my eyes away
I have to watch the interplay
of storm clouds lashed by spears of light.
I know the storm clouds will release
their burden of much needed rain
and then the skies will clear again.
I am content I feel at peace.
The rainfall will refresh the streams.
And they in turn increase the flow
of rivers running deep and slow.
Towards the sea where in my dreams.
I see the sun evaporate
raise water vapour to the skies.
The winds which blow will dissipate
the clouds which slowly rise.
And start the cycle once again.
All part of nature’s perfect plan
to irrigate the world of man.
There is no loss there is no gain.
The rain falls on the mountain sides.
Restarts its journey to the sea
It can move slow or speedily.
The ancient cycle still abides.
It was before the birth of man
and will be when man is no more
My role that of a spectator.
I contemplate because I can
and realise I ‘m powerless.
of no real significance.
I do not rate a second glance.
I am not part of the process.
The water cycles constantly
The way it was designed to do
There is no reason to review
a system working perfectly.
05/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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