Monday, May 17, 2021

IAMBIC PENTAMETER MEETS FREESTYLE - BORN RAIN




7)

Rain drops patter, parroting each other
timpani trembles, the gathering storm
ships roll in on sweet and windy summer
trap this moment--the rain is being born!

6) 

Rain drops patter, parroting each other

A conversation muted in the mist 

Ships roll in, it's just the storms of summer

Hide the sun with echoes, windy, brisk.

5)

The patter of rain drops parroted each other, in a poetry that grew, timpani sounding as the storm rolled in echoing shades of grey, blocking out the sun.

4)

The patter of rain drops parroted each other, in a poetry that grew, in echoing shades of grey, blocking out the sun.


3) 

The sky heaved and sighed, in a single moment the singing rain was born. The timpani pounded its fists in the clouds, shaking, tears came to my eye. The patter of rain drops parroted each other, in a poetry that grew, in echoing shades of grey, blocking out the sun.


2) 

The moment made before the rain was born

Stopping to listen, my old heart like a drum 

Timpani pounded, and gathered the storm

echoing greys, blocking out the bright sun

-

Your poet's parrot, perched on one corner 

of the cage, he sits there, across from me

Your coffee's growing colder by the hour

You bide your time repeating memories

-

Hanging in the wind, a scent on the breeze

You smell it slow then fast and your nose snorts

A sneeze releases the flying trapeeze

Your hands reach out to me but I fall short

-

I would not plan a trip, climbing uphill

Yet storm clouds gather at the window sill.


1) 

The moment right before the rain was born

I stopped, my heart beating like an old drum

Cramping like timpani, gathering storms

echoing greys, blocking out the bright sun

Your poet's beret, perched on one corner 

of your mind as you sit across from me

Your coffee's growing colder by the hour

thoughts are racing and then one takes the lead

Hanging in the air like a swung trapeeze

My hands reach out but I am falling short

I catch the smell of flowers on the breeze

As I plan out my slow and rough retort

I would not plan this, nor take it like pills

The moment before, at the window sill.