Brooding for ponderous hours, hovering aloft paltry blue, thunderous barbaric blows bestow the sky fall; groaning in the humid summer ether to split unfastened the firmament amidst cracks piercing disconcerted psyches.
Conquering the infernal cumulonimbus expanse, firing a splintered silver beaked lightning ire, its menacing violent acoustics reverberates strong squalls, with a swirling vortex.
Chasms visible for seconds, reverberating and rolling off the consequential stream of energetic clashes. Wifts of sweet petrichor bottled in sense memory bring bolts of clarity, newfound understanding and with it losing all sense of identity within this experimental territory.
Watching condensed tropes formed by the breath on the window pane, against the blitz of the mighty blast, the mind dwells on the moment of visceral epiphany.
Drums of flaming wild desires beat to the pregnant clouds riding stately on bellowing torrential tunes as the zenith of the God’s rages on. Leaves unhook, clouds flurry amidst winds, trees bend to allow pass, turning sharply like a plague of locusts, whirling, tossing up in its tail, a mad craze chasing after nothing. An electromagnetic spectacle circus exhibition.
The avalanche of stormy carnival fades, inexorable summer rains calm down from its bout of convulsed fury, lifting its fractious mien. The faint chimes from the distant bell, welcomes the prismatic band across the azure horizon.
Sweet chirps of little sparrows announce a new dawn .The bright sunny morning welcomes another day. Cheerful flowers bloom inviting the meandering butterflies. As the day settles in, a bunch of billowing mass peeks across the horizon. The balmy demeanor starts to sulk. By noon a boorish band of clouds send the sun backstage, by taking the spotlight. Soon their other dark cousins arrive to dominate the azure skies. A somber mood sets in, as the clan of broody tar clouds take center stage. A thunder here, a lightning there with some spells of showers as if they are testing their mic settings. Once everything is in place, they have a blast. In flashes of tempestuous pitch and torrential downpour, they sing nonstop to a rumbling orchestra.
dark moods vocalize
with thunderous acoustics
Inspired by the heavy rains lashing out last evening.
Haibun is a Japanese genre of combining prose with poetry. The key to the art of haibun is the graceful pairing of poem and prose, where the poem links to the prose yet shifts away from it.
Sidlak poetry (sid/lak) is a structured poetry consisting of 5 lines with 3-5-7-9 syllables AND A COLOR. The last line must be a COLOR that describes the whole poem ( no restriction on syllables) or the feelings of the writer.