Tag Archives: storm poems

Deliberate Storms 

Posted on November 25, 2022 by whimsygizmo

A maelstrom stirs in her chest,poorly born concave shell.  Damn, but this land’s a swung          (sprung) place to watch lightning fingers jigsaw the sky.  ::Quickly, day 25.

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Assessment

Posted on November 17, 2022 by whimsygizmo

And then we decide it’s worth it, even with the fact of falling even with the spindled stalling even with the calling of the wild.  To soar, perhaps all we need is this breeze and a little feathered hope, a rope to pull us back from … Continue reading →

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Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Things We Said in the Storm 

Posted on November 11, 2022 by whimsygizmo

The sky’s a hurry-cane scrim,but we’re still scribbling light-ning above the din.  We promised ourselves we wouldn’t hide, even as the cloud cauldron stirred.  And when we thought we might run out of time, we plucked our own feathers to write these lines.  :: In … Continue reading →

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Commanding Clouds 

Posted on November 2, 2022 by whimsygizmo

If you’re gonna poke a stick at the sky, you’d better chant a bit and sell a little of your soul.  There’s a slow pre-thunder roll that says we asked for this,that bliss is just the other side of broken -open clouds. That rain bows to … Continue reading →

Posted in Miz Q Prompts, scribbling storms, storms | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

occasional storm

Posted on July 26, 2021 by whimsygizmo

  we are reborn in these deluge moments,heavens cracked open and boomingsudden protest of all this desert dry. in drops of liquid hopefrom broken cloud, redemption falls from sky.  we unfold our hands andrejoice in water only thrown, streams without stones.  It’s Quadrille Monday over at … Continue reading →

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Shadow Girl

Posted on June 6, 2015 by whimsygizmo

(a shadorma) .. She is a stranger in her own skin, an un -quiet storm strangled by the breath of dawn. Her pulse is spilled moon.     . I’m feeling a little ethereal today. Prompted by A Prompt Each … Continue reading →

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Because the arrival of your ghost is still pending,

Posted on April 21, 2015 by whimsygizmo

. :: . I am the lost girl standing in a field of poppies, waiting for a storm. ::

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