I hear your distant rumblings.
Your grumblings do not impress.
I can shut the windows
and let your storm pass by.
poem-silence July 11, 2014
She fills the sky
with a rainfall of words,
a hurricane of syllables,
a thundering of sentences.
She brews a storm,
but he stands impermeable
in silent eloquence
amid her eye.
poem- summer storm August 12, 2013
Epic battle:
light and dark.
Musket muzzles flash
Light bayonets the hills
with slashing stabs.
In the concussion of the cannonade
Houses rattle.
.
.
So let’s discuss this poem. Despite the nice circuitous connection of battle/rattle , I think ‘houses rattle’ is the weakest line in the poem, and ending with the weakest line is never a good thing. You want a nice strong ending. I started with ‘reverberation’ in the line (no houses at that point) which is perhaps better is some ways, though I felt too obvious a choice.
Let’s workshop this. What do you think? What would you do to the last line to continue the battle metaphor, but convey the quaking ground and rattling windows?
summer storm June 29, 2013
Whoa.
On upturned pots and pans
some rocking sky child,
some deity’s progeny,
is beating, bashing
crashing, smashing
a percussive cacophony,
complete with
slashing, flashing
light show.
.
And not content
at blinding glow
he rumbles low
and shakes the ground
with reverberating sound.
Wild rocking child,
with his smashing
crashing
garage band in the sky.
In solid streams
sweat’s pouring down
and plastering the ground;
thus he howls his greeting
to July.
summer storm tanka July 18, 2011
light fractures the sky
overhead, the explosion
crashes and smashes,
roaring to the universe
of heaven’s summer power
.
.
As I write, the sky is flashing and the rain is pouring down. The thundering echoes are rumbling above the house and wind is blowing. There are some thirty thousand motorcycle riders camping in the area for a huge rally that’s been going on this weekend. I’ll bet the ones that left today are really glad they’re not in a tent in this storm!
Shawn L. Bird 