Tag Archives: storms

Things We Said in the Storm 

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

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

Commanding Clouds 

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

Aubade with Yolk on Its Face 

:: And suddenly the day’s cracked open like a broken storm,with me alone at center.  :: In November, we poem. This one’s an aubade.

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occasional storm

  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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when we all can falling-star again

, I don’t wanna pan(dem)ic no more                     (no more) so        (please) just blue me a kiss bramble me a storm verb me a poem, then sky me … Continue reading

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Because I have not had my fill of falling

  , I am taking off my shoes and standing barefoot at the edge of it all once again, shouting nonsense-something to my echo-self and asking her to keep me company, fill this lonely void with laughter’s roar until the … Continue reading

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have a tiny umbrella in your pocket

, because every day carries at least one small storm.     .. In November, we poem.        

Posted in Poetic Asides Chapbook Challenge 2019 | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

when the wind whispers to the moon

, he says there’s a storm on the way. buckle down, get strong. she says i’m already strong. unties her belt and begins to dance.     . In November, we poem. 

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How to build a storm shelter

Make a steadfast structure of the sharpest stars. Woo a storm. Then spill a poem.   .. In November, we poem.       

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Midway through the storm

, we warm ourselves on lightning rods. We rumble thunder across our skin, begin in raindrops. We thin the skies with contemplated clouds, and sing aloud our own singed songs. We’re tornado-strong and tumbled. We’re hurricane-half -way there, and helterskeltered … Continue reading

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