Fujiwara Effect
I incarcerate myself
inside this harrying vertigo
lambasting with a ponderous
tirade of thunders and lightning
And as I take the conflagration
brought by the sentimental tempest
and drown in your naïve downpour
the scythes of madness dance
like the petals gliding contingency,
as subtle as the gray macabre
behind the clouds of your squall
And this calamity hungers
for more obliteration, annihilation
like how pain needs more pain,
like how an open wound inviting
infection to amputate the roots,
So gust after gust, I inveigled
the lancers to come my way
where I docilely lay on the mud
listening for the ripples secrets
Until a storm fadangoed with a storm
and in the oppressive limbo
I rivet myself in the brunt
oblivious in the fathoms of despair
with a staid despondence
And when everything is ailed
unto a consummate destruction
perhaps, just perhaps,
there'd be room for tomorrow
and a peace that can cradle
the lost perchance of restoration
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Gutters
It is one of those gray days
That you kneel for the downpour
To remind you of the cold pangs,
To probe for dark rooms where
Numbness hath not yet vacate
And amidst the hail of tears
You'd find yourself breathing,
Sobbing. Shuddering. Suffering.
The thunders were deaf
And muted by its paroxysm,
The lightning was blinded
By its own garish light,
The contemptuous lances fell
Concatenating the clouds
(That I tried to open
And immediately closed)
Into the thirsty earth
For a short-lived eternity
The most disparate angles
Formed a perfect circle
You let the gust beat you and
The tempest to whirl around you
Gripping you in its flimsy hands
And you watched the storm pass
Leaving the ruins in your heart
The sun shone bleakly and
Its superfluous innuendos gyrated
You found yourself besmirched
In the forlorn mud, wading futilely
Like an agog virtuoso haplessly
Reeling souvenirs from places
That are still to be traversed
Without an audience adept
For listening and musing
Drained, tired, lost from vindication
You fall and slither aimlessly
Into the coldest gutters.
poem by Norman Santos
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Gone Before the Storm
Setting nowhere
Darting through
Clouds of despondence
And I hoped
For taut strings
To be pulled
Or to be shorn.
In the passenger seat
Juxtaposed to an estranged man
I inquired a wonder as
The oblivious crystals slapped
The windshields,
"Is there a storm brewing? "
And he said "There is none."
Silence fell plummeting
With the constant beating
Of melted eyes
In the rigid sheens
Of the glass
And I have surmised
A thunderstorm
Inside the salty oceans
Of the bones.
I squirmed inside the chrysalis
Knowing that
The storm would not
Settle the willowing
Of serrated dusts
And I am running out
Of apologies.
The enigma is that
I am siphoned
Of rationality
But untouched
By naivety.
Everything slewed
Into the gutter
And I am to blame
For fulminating
The thunders
That beckoned
The coming storm
Do you hear me?
Can you see me fade?
poem by Norman Santos
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Inevitable Defeat for Friend Leslie
The tempest rages spitefully
as it has done all through the night.
Determined to defeat the sea
it gives no quarter or respite.
The rolling thunder loudly roars
across the heavens ceaselessly
Forked lightning flickers like a sword.
A weapon wielded expertly
Which strikes the surface of the sea
to small effect. The sea ignores
this useless waste of energy.
The raging storm cannot enforce
it’s will. The mighty sea denies
the storm the smallest victory.
No matter how the tempest tries
The storm will cease eventually.
The storm clouds slowly dissipate
As silence stills the thunders roar.
The sea resumes its peaceful state
and all is as it was before.
The tempest tried to no avail
to overcome its enemy.
Its puny efforts doomed to fail
against the everlasting sea.
29-Jan-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Pouring Like Your Niceties
The rain pours on you
encumbering your shoulders
with the pall of rain marks
heftier than any reverie
The gray shower enshrouded
your weakening frailty
and every crystal sifted through,
slowly hollowing your body
And when all is gone,
you lifted your scrawny arms
endeavoring to take flight
amidst the ponderous catastrophe
Shuddering from the gelid gust
and the ponderous downpour,
in the juxtaposition of heaven and earth
concatenated by the eternal drizzle
you become one with everything
And I feel you everywhere
like the wind, the rain,
the thunder and the petrichor;
you are nowhere and everywhere
and I tried to embrace you
in my sinewy arms and inside
the pang of chill on my viscera
poem by Norman Santos
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Outside Our Silent Parasols
Your departure made shadows
inside this steel gray curtain
prancing with every step
like the flames of the sunset
swallowed inside the clouds
draping the unweaving of light
The rain plummets down
trying to furrow the distance
between heaven and earth
while veiling the complacence
festooned with false pretense
Because the obsidian eyes
casted downwards like the rain
is caught in a ponderous downpour
filling the empty basin I held
like a thirsty tree, writhing in time
And as I waded through little oasis
where your steps left a Doppler effect,
I listened to the orchestra of susurrations
and the symphonic percussions -
the minutiae slivers of our shattering
inside this nebulous weather
pleading for the decadence to halt
We wiped our wet faces and
recognized the old photographs
there is no reason to stay astray
under this eternal mad rain
And now that we took shade
under the comfort of our parasols,
the pall of rain marks on my shoulder
and its unlikely weight slowly
reveals itself to me as it
started to dry out and dissolve
The flummoxing tears suspended
and cringed to be dabbed
as the inclement wind sojourned
to listen to its trickling sound
but peace shove embarrassment
into its openly awake wounds
And the thunders still dislimns
the tersely woven conversation
and the lightning still blears
the deterred scope of visions
and the gust and hail goes on
outside our silent parasols
and I catch these moments
on sorry solitary occasions.
poem by Norman Santos
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Before the Storm - Jonas Brothers, with Miley Cyrus
vs.1 No, this isn't what I wanted,
Never thought it'd come this far.
Thinkin' back to where we started,
And how we lost all that we are.
We were young and times were easy,
But I could see it's not the same.
Standing here, but you don't see me,
Give it all for that to change.
I don't want to lose her,
Don't want to let her go.
(chorus)
Standing out in the rain,
Need to know if it's over,
Cause I would leave you alone.
I'm flooded with all this pain,
Knowing that I'll never hold her,
Like I did before the storm.
vs.2 With every strike of lightning,
Comes a memory that lasts.
Not a word is a left unspoken,
As the thunder starts to crash.
Maybe I should give up.
(chorus)
I'm trying to keep the lights from going out,
And the clouds from ripping out my broken heart.
They always say a heart is not a home,
Without the one who gets you through the storm.
Standing out in the rain,
Knowing that it's really over,
Please don't leave me alone.
I'm flooded with all this pain,
Knowing that I'll never hold ya,
Like I did before the storm.
Before the storm.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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The Drab Splendor Of A Gargoyle
The dark came generously
with storm-troubled wings
The stars are all quelled
and the wind hangs purposelessly
There is a streak of verdigris
on the cicatrizing vault
A corolla of change dangles,
a shifting moon unfolds
and my imposition remained
a lackluster glacial metal
The weather was still as gold
and voracious as greedy kings
the crooked hands of the day
basked in luxurious rendezvous
Whilst I dreamed in hues of gray
weaving poems to the blasé moon
stitching the tatterdemalion tapestry
that mantled the ailing wounds
I found myself waiting
in front of a riddling mirror
with words unspoken off
If you knock, it will echo
If you burst, it will find tempo
My penetralium convalesced
nauseated from a peremptory vertigo
and my wallflower's petals
are paper-thin no more
thorns spangled its sleep
because it will never uncurl
under the searchlight's whim
I picked the felled letters
harried by the erratic gyration
of the ponderous atmosphere
I watched it turn to ash
as lips burned from their harangue
but the lions remain asleep
with the phantoms of their dens
and everything passed by
with deaf-mute miscalculations
To slur in the banquet
of manifold palettes
is a one-way ticket
for a subtle gargoyle
watching cold fountains
rise and fall, dance and topple
and on the gray clouds
lambently walk without
leaving scars and without
knotting prostate ties
Tonight, I rivet back
into the walls of my cathedral -
A pivoting turret that hisses
for the giant's intimidations.
poem by Norman Santos
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Storm Road
A path covered in rain
Lightning streaks the sky
Thunder calling my name
The wind letting water fly
A life happy and free
I have been blessed without pain
I feel a tempest inside of me
Am I simply insane?
I wish for something more
As I sit in the eye of the storm
Hoping for a strength that's impossible to ignore
So you'll see me outside the norm
You are more pressure than I need
The inspiration for this hurricane
You wont let me be freed
You're stuck in my brain
None of this writing
Is making you go away
The storm is never silencing
Even with you so faraway.
Your Cubic Slang
Enclose the closeness in your soul,
Enclose it as you enclose the ''uco'' in cornucopious.
Enclose the gray transparency in your sky,
When it is so close to your coming clouds.
They are the dimples of your cognitive space,
They are hollow thoughts,
When you set your ideals at naught.
Those clouds are inside of your gray
As close as the ''co'' in the cocoon,
Those clouds are fulfilled with your leady rain.
They are uncracked nuts waiting for a crack.
Let the rain of your Cumulonimbus storm
To fall over the lead of my pain.
Enclose inside of my lead
All your Oort clouds
Lost in your cubic slang.
MCN: CDDQ1-JVPR9-7NHF6
© copyright Fri Jan 20 UTC 2012 - All Rights Reserved
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Out Of The Depths
Lost! Lost! Lost!
The cry went up from a sea --
The waves were wild with an awful wrath,
Not a light shone down on the lone ship's path;
The clouds hung low:
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Rose wild from the hearts of the tempest-tossed.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
The cry floated over the waves --
Far over the pitiless waves;
It smote on the dark and it rended the clouds;
The billows below them were weaving white shrouds
Out of the foam of the surge,
And the wind-voices chanted a dirge:
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Wailed wilder the lips of the tempest-tossed.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Not the sign of a hope was nigh,
In the sea, in the air, or the sky;
And the lifted faces were wan and white,
There was nothing without them but storm and night
And nothing within but fear.
But far to a Father's ear:
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Floated the wail of the tempest-tossed.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
Out of the depths of the sea --
Out of the night and the sea;
And the waves and the winds of the storm were hushed,
And the sky with the gleams of the stars was flushed.
Saved! Saved! Saved!
And a calm and a joyous cry
Floated up through the starry sky,
In the dark -- in the storm -- 'Our Father' is nigh.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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Lost
It was a restless wind that took her
In ever wakeful gales blowing
Blanketed by swollen clouds of rain-building
And an angry thunder ever growing;
Unfolding in perfectly stitched sheets pelting
Embroidered in the lightenings porcelain flash
A tempest entwined in threads of past emotions static
With no salvation-came the unforgiving Thunders crash;
Alas, no survivors of this storm
Lost in the mystery of the unknown Deep
No reprieve-no illusions tossed
'Neath fathoms-came the endless sleep;
poem by Theodora Onken
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One Jump Ahead Of The Storm
Lightnings flashing all around me,
Thunders rolling up behind.
Big blue clouds are going to roll in
Full of tears and make me blind.
I cant let her man recatch me.
I cant stop to cry no more.
Im just running down the highway,
One jump ahead of the storm.
One jump ahead of her crying,
One jump ahead of her cold cheating arm.
One jump ahead of her lying,
One jump ahead of the storm.
One day I looked on the horizon,
Saw her love just couldnt last.
Oh, my mind was torn to pieces.
I had to leave and get out fast.
And so I slipped out of her power.
I saw my chance and I was gone
Before the rain could start to falling.
One jump ahead of the storm.
Chorus
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
I was one jump ahead of the storm.
Just one jump ahead of the storm.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gust of despair
A gust of despair
far from your sight deep inside me
where the days drown silently
and nights go by slowly
leaves wither in spring
barren valley of stagnant emotions
n the sorrows like snow flakes
sag down the land of my heart
where no wind of pleasure can ever turn
where the sun can cause no blaze but burn
where cavernous woods with no blossoms but fern
where every laughter casts no glee but a regret in turn
genial stances dancing naked rendering servile you
holding ma hands dragging me back
but here I am wandering in the allure of ma ruined woes
in the land of ma heart where the gust of despair forever, blows
poem by Irum Inayat
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Lord Of The Storm
Can I walk upon this water
In the midst of this mighty sea
Surely I will stumble, surely I will drown
Oh Lord how can this be
The waves are high and the wind it howls
And the rain it lashes down
Yet you are there, I see you Lord
Now I know I shall not drown
Then the thunder roars and the lightning flashes
High above in the angry skies
Dark clouds rising, set on fire
To them do I lift my eyes
Heavier now the rain is falling
The noise so loud I cannot think
The lightening fractures the sky above
And my legs, they begin to sink
I look around, eyes wide with terror
As all this madness does unfold
I look once more, there, it's Jesus
In the midst of the storm, standing bold
I am your peace when all hell breaks loose
Devils and demons flee
In the storm, in the night, when all breaks down
Remember, keep your eyes upon me.
poem by Frank McEleny
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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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Coming to Terms
Peeking through the yellowed drape
A ray of hope shines in.
Outside the world awaits
While inside, my mind, it spins.
Listening to the Nature
The Pride of the Bumble Bee
Or the Aristocrat Of The Song Bird
Truly, it does entice me.
SO long,
Locked inside
This prison of Doom and Gloom
Where feelings of physical pain
And mental misery
Fill up my wailing room.
A room where too many tears are shed
A room where despondence grows
A place where sheer despair
Knows no bounds
A place that true suffering knows.
I walk SO close to the door
The key held tightly in my hand
Apprehensive to open up to the OutSide
Afraid of Mother natures Green Growing land.
For too many years a prisoner
Of all of my lifes regrets
The pains of dealing with ones ownself
'Tis a Ghost, that must be met!
(Dedicated to Ms. J. M. Davis)
poem by Theodora Onken
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A Fallen Tree
Who will dance with the wind now that you’re really gone?
Who will catch the sun’s rays on the hot summer morn?
Who will slow down the gust when it’s out of control?
Who will dilute the air that’s toxic to my soul?
Who will speak to the clouds about sending the rain?
Who will shelter me from the storm and soothe my pain?
Who will stand in the rain when others hide away?
Who will provide a place for little birds to play?
Who will catch my rain drops before they touch the ground?
Who will keep luxuriant grass from turning brown?
Who will present me a fruit for my morning dish?
Who will nourish my eyes and satisfy my wish?
Who will fix this huge hole in the soil of my heart?
Who will give me comfort now that we are apart?
poem by Howard Simon
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There's Magic Still In Love
Never lost.
Never,
Bewildered.
No, I'm...
Never lost.
No...ever,
Bewildered.
But I can be,
The one deceived.
And I can be,
Too naïve.
Also the one,
To believe...
There's magic still in love.
Never lost.
Never,
Bewildered.
No, I'm...
Never lost.
Nor...ever,
Bewildered.
But I can be,
The one deceived.
And I can be,
Too naïve.
Also the one,
To believe...
There's magic still in love,
For me.
Even when the clouds are gray,
I'm the one to believe...
They'll go away,
Permanently...
Depending on the Sun that rises.
And those tears from me that leave.
But I can be,
The one deceived.
And I can be,
Too naïve.
Also the one,
To believe...
There's magic still in love,
For me.
Even when the clouds are gray.
Never lost.
Never,
Bewildered.
No, I'm...
Never lost.
Nor...ever,
Bewildered.
But I can be,
Much too honest.
And I can hurt,
Easily.
Yet still believe,
There is magic...
Kept inside my heart,
To find for me...
True love.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Storm Clouds
I sat at the window
near the edge of sunset
watched the storm clouds roll by.
I wondered what would happen
during the evening tide
with those storm clouds.
Will they bring forth wind and rain?
Will the raindrops dance
and tap at my windowpane.
However, those storms clouds
just kept on rolling by.
With a sigh of relief,
I could see there
will be no storm tonight.
poem by David Harris
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Reflections On A Storm
There was a calm felt before the storm
and also some uneasiness in every form
a hushed anticipation of what was soon to be
perhaps a fateful outcome of each one’s destiny.
During this time it became very dark and foreboding
that everything around lost all its charm and standing.
Suddenly there were flashes of lightning and clashes of thunder,
which rolled from the clouds, seen and heard by all there under.
Then a strong wind blew and a heavy rain began to fall
lashing onto everything around as it turned into a squall.
As the tempest raged on in a crescendo and reached its peak;
turning day into night and night into day, all seemed so bleak.
There many creatures all scampered and sought the safety of shelter,
out of the maelstrom unleashed by nature, in a state of helter-skelter.
They all knew their places when it came to that threat of danger;
out of harms reach they tried to flee even if it was with a stranger.
After the storm had spent all its fury and slowly subsided
a calm settled in again which had lately just been divided.
And all appeared to have been molested and somewhat shaken
as light broke through the clouds to make that day re-awaken.
While the storm in its wake seemed to have wreaked much devastation
the forces which had come into play reminded one of the act of creation,
when those seeds of life were implanted ages ago at the very beginning,
causing all things to gradually spring into existence with some meaning.
poem by George Krokos
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