Monday, October 29, 2012

Monday Poetry Stretch - Weathering the Storm

I'm home from school today as we wait to see what Sandy will bring. The forecast is calling for rain, wind, and even snow. Folks around here have doing quite a bit of storm tracking. We're as ready as we can be. So, today I'm thinking about weather. Will you write a weather poem with me this week? Leave me a note about your poem and I'll share the results in time for Poetry Friday.

Before you go, check out the fabulous collection of fairy tale poems written for last week's stretch.

11 comments:

  1. The weather forecast for our area today said "Abundant Sunshine" -- an idyllic forecast compared to what all of you are facing on the east coast. Weather is on our minds! Stay safe there.

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  3. Good luck weathering the storm. My son and his family are out there and I've been keeping an eye on the forecasts. Sure hope it is not as bad as predicted. Stay safe. Renee

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  4. Sandy

    We lash down furniture
    The sun shines steadily
    Warm and inviting as tarps are wound
    Around skeletons of cushionless patio furniture
    Corpses compared to the sunny days of barbeques
    Marshmallow roasts and laughing guests

    Today has the same sunshine but different air
    A suffocating quality
    Fill the gas tanks and pray that we don't need them
    Watching the news as death is broadcast into our living room
    Our Jamaican friend helps us prepare
    I wonder if his daughter has been affected
    I wonder if that is what he thinks about
    As the tropical shores are exploited on our hi-def TV

    Will this mean danger for my family
    Or just an excuse to have a day inside
    Work is cancelled and I try to be sober about it
    I dance
    I know that I am home because it is dangerous

    The sea rises up to lick at cottages
    The tarps start to come off of the furniture
    My husband and I try wrapping it tighter and we are battered by the wind
    He says isn't it nice being sprayed with water off the tarp like spray off the ocean
    I agree
    My heart pounds as I tie knots that I cannot name but my hands know
    He was being sarcastic
    My pulse is still that of the sea captain
    Bracing against swells and rocking with the tide

    I think of the forts built in the woods just the day before
    My flimsy wood hut still stands
    Maybe I should stay out there
    No glass for trees to smash
    No power to be lost

    Here I lay
    Warm house
    Day of sewing
    No loss of electricity
    Freezer still full and safe
    Reading articles on the internet
    Counter top covered with cans of soup
    And yet I still get a call from my boss: no work

    And I am fine with that

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  5. Hurricane

    Each more or less
    Familiar name
    In meteor-
    ologic fame

    Reverberates—
    A spectral bearer
    Of rage and pain—
    The Rain of Terror.

    How does the human
    Soul survive
    The cruelest Cat-
    egory 5

    With lifeless fragments
    Of this brief
    Annihilation?
    Roaring grief.



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  6. Severe Storm Watch

    The power’s gone.
    Texting, Twitter,
    Facebook, Pinterest,
    Kindle, news online—
    all gone. The building’s
    dark, and the night,
    like I’m out camping.
    I should hear crickets,
    but all I hear is the wind
    slamming its blunt
    invisible body
    against the windows.
    No elevator, and if
    I take all those stairs
    I’ll be outside.
    The mugger wind
    will jump me. I sit
    wrapped in blankets,
    waiting for the world
    to come back. Waiting
    for voices. For power.

    —Kate Coombs, 2012
    all rights reserved

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  7. I'm enjoying this week's poems. Great work, all! My family and I made it through the storm in Rhode Island without much damage. Here's one from a new collection of mine:

    After Rain, We Make Repairs
    By Steven Withrow


    Patch of dirt, dollop of mud
    Stitch of pitch-black gravel
    Gummy glop of pine sap
    Where stick-ends unravel

    Dewy grass for scratchy bed
    Touch of dandelion head
    Twigs and littered strips of straw
    Nesting doves and morning thaw

    Copyright 2012 Steven Withrow, all rights reserved

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  8. Cyclone

    when broody
    stormwinds come
    to roost, the weather
    fair and pillow-y
    turns dark and grey
    and billowy.
    water lilies bow
    their heads—like
    lovers on a moonlit
    night—squirrels and
    mice and crickets
    steal away.
    raindrops, fine
    and peppery,
    pelt earth’s face
    so leathery,
    weave us into
    feather-grass
    and lace.

    (c) jgk, 2012
    www.facebook.com/juliekrantzbooks

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  9. Cyclone

    when broody
    stormwinds come
    to roost, the weather
    fair and pillow-y
    turns dark and grey
    and billowy.
    water lilies bow
    their heads—like
    lovers on a moonlit
    night—squirrels and
    mice and crickets
    steal away.
    raindrops, fine
    and peppery,
    pelt earth’s face
    so leathery,
    weave us into
    feather-grass
    and lace.

    (c) jgk 2012
    www.facebook.com/juliekrantzbooks

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  10. DARK SKY

    Dark sky, whipping winds,
    Lightning strikes, aquatic bursts,
    Nature's toxic mood.

    OH MOM!

    Whipping winds, dark sky,
    Mother Nature starts to cry,
    Hurricane season.

    (c) Charles Waters 2012 all rights reserved.

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  11. Storm Left Behind

    I did not want to be part of the detritus
    this massive Nor’easter leaves behind:
    downed branches, like fallen soldiers,
    legs and arms lopped off; fall flowers
    bent over with the weight of water,
    old dowagers and their humps;
    leaves cowering in gutters, carpeting
    walkways, cluttering window frames.
    And me at the airport, my plane canceled,
    rerouting a nightmare from which I am not waking,
    from which I wish to escape into dreams.



    ©2012 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

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