NaPM April 5 2014

[milo]

Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.

Topic 5: Today's prompt comes from justcloudy who would like a poem about the rain.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

[ellajam]

Rain

Instead of his usual leap
up the front gardens, Rupert slinks
under the eaves, hugging
home.

.............................

Set at their usual volume levels,
devices become barely audible.
I'm grateful to have the roof overhead,
each variation in wind-force
and direction changing the timbre
of the percussive performance,
tones dancing from slopes to flats,
then into the soundbox
of wood walled rooms vented
by a cylindrical steel chimney.
Body warm and sheltered,
mind free to drift.

[ChristopherSea]

Sodden Autumn

Summer pigments mute
within opaque puddles,
damp feet sink in
the boggy despair.

Gloom gathers beneath
the bleeding maples,
jaundiced birches
are wasting thin.

Susan's Black-Eyes
gape ever-wide,
no framed longer
in gamboge hues.

Blackened rose canes
stab with moldy thorn,
tarnished sunflowers
weep in the mud.

The lavender reeks,
while Goldenrod thrives.
Lamb's Ears droop
to decay on the ground.

Worms are growing fat
as pears rust and pit;
the ivy's dread-locks
hang over the wall.

It's hard to see the beauty
these dark wet morns,
but the slug trails
do glimmer somewhat.

[cidermaid]

Sorry this one is truly cringe worthy - I'm all out of poetic right now...it is all i've got and is technically a poem so .

Rain drops
I first met Rain at the age of eight,
or to give her full name;
Blue cloud Raindrop.
A steel dappled grey
with a silvered mane and tail.

When I first tried her
she bucked me off...
and then she buggered off!
So back to the stable I trailed.
My love un-dampened by a drop of rain.

For eight years I kept the same refrain.
“Please don’t sell Rain!”
But each and every drop,
mud splattered and shoulder-flopped
only served to prove...you can’t sit atop a drop of Rain.

I loved her all the same.

[Keith]

---

Sorry this one is truly cringe worthy - I'm all out of poetic right now...it is all i've got and is technically a poem so .

Rain drops
I first met Rain at the age of eight,
or to give her full name;
Blue cloud Raindrop.
A steel dappled grey
with a silvered mane and tail.

When I first tried her
she bucked me off...
and then she buggered off!
So back to the stable I trailed.
My love un-dampened by a drop of rain.

For eight years I kept the same refrain.
“Please don’t sell Rain!”
But each and every drop,
mud splattered and shoulder-flopped
only served to prove...you can’t sit atop a drop of Rain.

I loved her all the same.

bucked me off then buggered off....Pam Ayres eat your heart out.

Last line...... proves has to go with hoves great that she was still wanted inspite of all the bucking. Best Keith

---

Rain

Instead of his usual leap
up the front gardens, Rupert slinks
under the eaves, hugging
home.

.............................

Set at their usual volume levels,
devices become barely audible.
I'm grateful to have the roof overhead,
each variation in wind-force
and direction changing the timbre
of the percussive performance,
tones dancing from slopes to flats,
then into the soundbox
of wood walled rooms vented
by a cylindrical steel chimney.
Body warm and sheltered,
mind free to drift.

This reminds me of sitting in a caravan in the rain (obviously) I really like the POV being inside a drum and all the percussion references, nicley done Keith

[Brownlie]

Satan Gets Drunk in the Rain.

I cursed at heavens spit that fell
Falling over my head.
It rained above from fluffy thrones
Reminding me of death

That foul incest begotten fiend
That lurks in gentle drops
Encasing freedom within bounds
Providing ors in plots.

I wondered whether speaking might
Be prideful, whether words
I spoke would wreak a world of havoc,
But scoffed and wrought my works.

“I’ll find another way to drown
I’ll learn by Lycidas
I’ll not be taken by the sea
And sipped by greater straws.”

Imbibing on my own decree
I held a flaming cup
That held a burning sea and hoped
Despairing at the pub.

[Truerenigma]

Raindrops in the Hellespont

I lit the lamp, like any other night,
and waited by the window in the gown
that you love best. I pictured you
making your powerful strokes across the strait,
braving the storm to consummate our love.
You were late, as usual, and I dozed off.
I didn't see the wind blow out the light.
You must have felt so lost, and swam around
in circles for who knows how long. I cried
at morning, snow had turned to rain -
I saw you washed ashore like driftwood, tears
from Venus splashing in the skim beside
you where you lay. I sang the song of falling,
and dove to join the splashes by your side.

[Erthona]

Rain bounces off the liquid Texas asphalt on a summer's afternoon;
coming from a thunderhead that usually just plays
like it is going to do something and then
disappears.
The rain steams off the road
like grease in a hot frying pan.
It blurs my eyes,
smelling like liquid ozone.
It tapers off as the rain doves come out to serenade.

dale

[milo]

Rain bounces off the liquid Texas asphalt on a summer's afternoon;
coming from a thunderhead that usually just plays
like it is going to do something and then
disappears.
The rain steams off the road
like grease in a hot frying pan.
It blurs my eyes,
smelling like liquid ozone.
It tapers off as the rain doves come out to serenade.

dale

Fun read, dale, great to see you taking.part this year.

[Erthona]

Thanks for putting it on milo. I never got one for the first day, I had already done an April Fools poem, and I guess I just didn't have another one in me. Except for that the prompts have made it very easy to write a poem per day for this. Usually I write quite a lot anyway, but I find myself looking forward to the next prompt for the next day. I think I may miss this when it quits.

Dale

[milo]

Talking About the Rain

At twilight in the marsh
The rainfall joins the bogsong

And summons seven frogs
To gather in the swamp cabbage

Like a meeting at the veterans'
Hall or the lions' club

Looking like little old men
Talking about the rain.

[billy]

A Time To Rain

Skies pepper the window with rain
the shiny floor tiles are dangerous.
I dropped the half empty glass of chardonay
spilling sharp wine and two olives.
Mum's in the bath, her arms hanging
dripping a well aged burgandy onto the mat.
The phone goes dead; dad likes to put the receiver down
first. I start to cry, then tread through wine.
The ambulance is here, brought by the rain

[justcloudy]

Rain, rain, go away...

Rain slips under my matted fur hood
past my glasses and into my eyes.
Blinking I stretch my arm into the road
a signal to the little red taxis
that this time I'll pay to get home.
An ungloved hand holds each side
of my broken jacket together
white, shaking as water drips off.
I wriggle my toes that get wetter
with each shift of weight, in the shoes
with the soles I've glued twice.
A battered Fiat Uno beckons me in
and I trace patterns on the window
after counting my change.

[Magpie]

from leaden skies the relentless Rain poured
scattering all creatures in all directions,
happily cut adrift i sat on the canal bank
and watched the surface of the water...

...ripples and their Infinite possibilities,
exquisite circles gracefully colliding,
spiralling outwards, orbits of natural Bliss,
liquid pirouettes, the Raindrop kaleidoscope.

[milo]

Raindrops in the Hellespont

I lit the lamp, like any other night,
and waited by the window in the gown
that you love best. I pictured you
making your powerful strokes across the strait,
braving the storm to consummate our love.
You were late, as usual, and I dozed off.
I didn't see the wind blow out the light.
You must have felt so lost, and swam around
in circles for who knows how long. I cried
at morning, snow had turned to rain -
I saw you washed ashore like driftwood, tears
from Venus splashing in the skim beside
you where you lay. I sang the song of falling,
and dove to join the splashes by your side.

You've really developed an easier touch recently. This poem should definitely be workshopped after NaPM.

---

Satan Gets Drunk in the Rain.

I cursed at heavens spit that fell
Falling over my head.
It rained above from fluffy thrones
Reminding me of death

That foul incest begotten fiend
That lurks in gentle drops
Encasing freedom within bounds
Providing ors in plots.

I wondered whether speaking might
Be prideful, whether words
I spoke would wreak a world of havoc,
But scoffed and wrought my works.

“I’ll find another way to drown
I’ll learn by Lycidas
I’ll not be taken by the sea
And sipped by greater straws.”

Imbibing on my own decree
I held a flaming cup
That held a burning sea and hoped
Despairing at the pub.

Good to see you back to writing, brownlie.

[Keith]

Sword and Scales

With the little one on my shoulders
and the other under my arm,
I followed St Michael to his mount
My bare white ankles and hairy toes
had indents where the socks had been,
trousers rolled up above the knee
like the old photographs of dad,
a bow legged Jimmy Dean,
and mum, a spoon playing Norma Jean,
held at the corners with sticky tabs,
Blackpool beach before they had.

Me and the kids meandered the monastics
but the monks didn't speak or appear,
I'm sure I heard one count to ten
when asked of Robin and his merry men,
there's a downside to a Disney DVD
the upside is a cuddle on a Sunday settee.

Orange juice and chicken crisps,
cream tea for two, a moment on the lips,
then flip-flop back down
on cobbles like clowns,
waiting in line for a boat back to shore,
bored captives in the taxi queue,
we watched the weather in a storm-bringers spell,
a battle raged between us and hell,
St Michael astride the Cornish rain,
the boats bumped ashore again and again,
we looked like we had swam.

But I still believe that on that day
the rain restored the balance
for as we stood in see-through clothes
the water washed away my phone
no more work or message tones.
We played in the streets of our archangel's home,
Marazion, his oldest throne.

[Mopkins]

‘Oh Water’ said Sky to the sea one day
‘Do come and dance with me-
Evaporate and be my mate
in blissful harmony.
I will carry you to the shore
In clouds of white and grey...
Oh Water’ said Sky to the sea one day
‘ Do come and dance my way.’’