Archive for storm

The Operation

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on August 29, 2017 by dc

There was a storm
The night before

The operation,

There were power cuts,
A handful of people
Shouting in the street,

Overflowing gutters,
Car alarms blaring
And the hustle of panic.

Nobody slept,
Even the dead
Were rustling,

Bustling and fidgeting,
Itching all restless,

There were children
In sodden vests,

Old shopping bags
Dancing with chaos,

‘Save us!’
No one shouted,

But everyone thought it,

And the next day
All was fine.

Except everyone smiled
About 20% more
Than usual,

And the streets
Looked a lot cleaner.

Every Dawn

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 18, 2011 by dc

Often when wrong
I float slow across oceans
Broken like driftwood
My skin sodden by storms,
Face aghast every dawn.

A Black Night Collapse

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 4, 2008 by dc

Up a tree as the storm hit,
Floods of people scuttled home,
Worried looks were everywhere,
A hundred gods groaned,

Rain dropped down in sheets,
Buildings creaked and sighed,
Litter grappled the evening
In miniature whirlwinds,

There were widows screaming questions,
Dogs howling like coyotes
And children wailing
Like banshees confused,

Siege mentalities gripped
And the streets become rivers
As I saw from up high
A black night collapse,

Dreams visiting in waves,
Beauty snatched away in moments,
Regret a moving force,
Dark clouds tarring the sky,

A way to worry forever.

All Is Here

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 12, 2008 by dc

All is here
Where once was when,
Thoughts underfoot
As wet as summer’s death,
Realisations hanging
Like rain on skinny trees
And all we can do is sing
Where once we screamed,
Tears are disappearing.

With maybes we go,
With a would and a could,
A why and a story
Of how the seasons
Span round us
Until we faced patterns
Of returning decisions
And crept into corners
Away from the storms.

All is here
Where once was when
And we can take this small world,
Pocket the good times
And change it in seconds,
We can shape it like clay
In a style of our choosing
And save helpless strangers,
We are answer machines.

Breathing Shadows

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 2, 2008 by dc

A prisoner off this landscape,
I am tied to myself,
Haunted by everyday dramas,
Lying silent in the country.

The dark sky coughs light,
The rain pummel rhythms
And the night’s storm flashes
Seem electric by design.

I feel lost
And I spell out my reasons
With the speed of my pulse.

Lunar bells ring out
Distant incantations
As I start to breathe shadows
And reach out for your voice.

I toast life
In all its gleeful ignorance,
I weep fevers like summer hot oils
And send tears to the earth
To touch your sweet distance.

I dream you can hear me,
The storm is your message.