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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Monday, September 06, 2010

Poetry: The Tempest

Hey all,

Still on trend here to complete my goal of one post a day for 30 days. Admittedly I do not have the backlog I had hoped to have built up but hey, what's the fun of a challenge if not to test yourself.

Anyway this poem came really easy, I think it took maybe an hour. I didn't really trouble shoot a lot with it, I liked the ease at which it flowed and that after a few months of not writing poetry that it felt really free to get back into the process. Anyway enjoy the poem, I thought it to be a nice bridge to some of the darker work that I think I have a better line at, with a bit of hopefulness at the end. I do detect a similar entry hood in the first 2 stanza's of this poem and the last poem I wrote, but I felt that they diverged enough to merit not changing them. I have always felt that each poem should be read on its own merit, as each poem is a moment in that authors life. An echo of feeling as it were. So in that regard I am OK with the opening lines having some resonance, as long as they each tell a story unto itself. At any rate, I'd love some feedback.

The Tempest

Under the fallen snow,

Cold, alone, no place to go,

The wind is howling in the vale,

As snowflakes yield to slurry hail.

The Heavens fade into the dark,

As the starry twinkles blacken stark.

Clouds of umber and stormy hues,

Alight the sky as lightning cues.

The tempest strums, the winding gale,

As the forcing wind surges the rail.

Thick, wet rain in stinging sheets,

Strike at the earth in binding feats.

They howl and bark, in rumbled voice,

As Mother Earth purges all choice.

The ground is beat, water rung and blowed,

As the storm unfurls its terror bestowed.

And I hold my arms up to the sky,

Knowing true the weather's but a lie.

Frigid, wet, and soaked deep to bone,

Yet unwashed are these sins untoned.

The rain and hale and stormy sleet,

Just remind me that I'm incomplete.

For no weather, cold nor warm,

Could ever help to quell the storm,

Of feelings bright or darkest blue,

The things I feel when I'm with you.

So all this storm can ever be,

Is a blustery reminder of you and me.

End of Line.

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