Zuzuni on the badlands
Montana's muddy badlands spread for thirty seven miles
along a cleft of sandstone bed, eroded years before;
the chestnut paced upon the bare of grass and well worn aisles
and I wore two new Navy Colts, of gauging forty four
beneath the noon light that defines but also eyes beguiles.
An anchorite, some years ago, upon the ridge of Grapes
where monasteries in the clouds are reaching out to God,
I learned to draw and shoot amidst the fog's white waving drapes
and prayed til the time was ripe to abandon this abode,
cause solitude was molding deeds, constringing, thus, escapes.
I saw them waiting on the trail; three bandits stood apart:
Coyote Chit, Cheesecake Labif and Mambo-Jumbo Crock
with cross-tied low their pistols stood, assumptive and upstart
bemocking fools who patented their e'er noetic block
that teachers, tho', could not explain; not even wise Descartes!
My shots intended at their guns, the hoisted hammers broke;
I ordered them to start the dance that turns the clouds to rain
the land was in compelling need, as turf and plants evoked
the sympathy of Heavens that magnanimous ordained
the good ol' boys (and volunteers) to dance the rain's refrain.
Coyote was allowed to dance a prominent gavotte
meanwhile Labif's romantic soul preferred a marigold
but Crock's mazurka had untied the nimbus' Gordian knot
and rain began to pour upon those who the skies extolled
heroic men were meant to be, defining, thus, a blot.
Zuzuni, the Algonquin chief, had noticed this ordeal
and marveled at the outlaws forms, that caused the skies to rain
in order so, to buy the fools he offered a good deal
fourteen strong horses for each man, who danced to ascertain
that rains returned upon the slopes and also on the plains.
© 2014-10-15, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
Contest Name: Sketch a Character
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan
I know my supervisor thought I lied, the day I said.
The reason that I had been out was I was stuck in bed.
I tried explaining desperately the rain had been to blame.
He looked at me like I was nuts, it really was a shame.
I told him that the night before it had rained cats and dogs.
So much that by the morning time the flooding hit the bogs.
And seeing how my little house is near a swampy creek.
It wasn’t long before my house had sprung a great big leak.
His face got twisted when I said my house got washed away.
And pretty soon my house was floating on Big Hollow Bay.
I told him in great detail how the planks began to break.
And how I wound up floating in my bed in Big Bear Lake.
I finally was rescued by the firemen in town.
It took them many hours just to pull my bed in ground.
So like I said, I told him that the rain had been to blame.
Unfortunately, I don’t think that he believes my claim.
Once my leather shoes made me proud with their softness and luster,
but after eleven months of heavy usage they have lost all glamor;
even small thorns and nails can penetrate their worn-out soles;
ah, squeaky, squeaky shoes...you annoy me when steady rain falls!
So what's your status,
Are you here to stay, like old Aunt Gladys?
- To rain and rain until we're glad it's
Not for you to own the day,
But eventually must fade away
Before the steady strugglings of the sun
Which must break through once they've begun
To tear apart your greyish gloom
And give the sunlight proper room
To push along those friendly, fluffy clouds
Through blue skies where you're not allowed.
So go thy way, ignoble cloud!
Carry off that misty shroud
Below which you have so confined us,
And let us put thy wet behind us
And revel in the newborn sun,
It's warmth welcome to everyone.
You overstay your station here
Far beyond what would appear
A decent spate of soft rainfall;
Your prescence doth begin to pall
When you hover close from day to day.
All caught beneath wish you away,
And confer on you non-gratis status,
O aggravating nimbostratus!
I walk on slick shine streets
in the night with my lover.
Freshly out of bed and ravenous
for other food, he pauses and
licks the tears and rain drops
from my face.
Rain in its many moods
quickens to sweep the earth and
Settles on the skin like a damp
kiss. Cold, warm, sweet, clean,
Is designer bottled water
merely rain drops from afar?
The dog romps through the rain,
in his perfect raincoat, oblivious
to the wet.
Blinking owlishly when a drop
should fall into his eye.
Mysterious primates of the forest
sit forlornly, beneath the
Forever patient as the skies
rupture with a torrential deluge.
Human-tender eyes reflect their
disgust and sadness at the wet,
messy coats they must wear.
The equine turn their haunches
to the storm to show their scorn
for nature’s tantrum.
Cats run for cover, sit
majestically removing the
wet rain from their person with a
Wild fowl dance across the circle
patterns of the pond’s face,
beating their wings and singing.
They frolic and dive celebrating
the sublime circumstance of
Man spends energy and money
to keep himself dry and safe
from the rain, darting from
doorway to doorway.
What does he fear? He won’t
melt if he gets soaked, he won’t
become ill or grow fins, and he
just might get clean.
Snow is rain in its wedding attire;
no two brides alike.
The rain drop falls into a rivulet
of other rain drops atop the
The rivulet runs into the creek,
the creek into a stream.
The stream rushes to the river
and the river falls into the sea.
The rain drops turn to salty tears
as the journey ends.
It is said that chickens, if left out
in the rain, will lift their heads up
to the sky and watch the rain
until they drown.
Butterflies and Bullets
Standing in line at Wally-world I suffered through this exchange of views.
The cashier asked the man in front of me, "Which of these will you choose?
Paper or plastic for you, sir?" and with a snarl he said, "Plastic will do for me!"
Then he proceeded to proclaim for all to hear, the plight of the forest tree!
"Don't you know that cuttin' down all them trees will leave the forests bare,
Deprivin' them poor hooty owls of a place to roost - now don't you really care?
Just think of them dwindlin' rain forests that supports monkeys, birds and such!
But them greedy companies keep cuttin' and sawin' - they're so outta touch!"
The gum-chewing cashier looked him dead in the eye and had this to say:
"My old man has been a lumberjack fer twenty years and works hard fer his pay!
I don't give a hoot about yer owls, yer rain forests or yer ring-tailed monkeys!
I ain't politically correct and you can relay that to all yer tree-huggin' junkies!"
I clutched my loaf of Wonder bread trying to look nonchalant, staring into space.
(We were in an express lane - he had two full carts, showing his lack of grace!)
Should this get out of hand I expected to hear, "Cleanup on Express Lane Five!"
I was beginning to wonder if both parties were apt to come out of this alive!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 in Susan Burch's "Paper Or Plastic" Contest - March 2012
I remember it like it was yesterday and I think in fact it was
A beautiful spring morning that could not go wrong because
The sun it was shining brightly way up in the sky
So I thought I would cut the lawn or at least give it a try
The lawn mower was pristine clean as I took it from the shed
The extension lead I uncoiled and to the mower it led
I started on the back lawn to mow my way around
I listened to my IPod as I pushed the mower across the ground
The cloud began to gather the light began to fade
It was just as if I managed to walk into the shade
Now the wind began to rise blowing grass cuttings in the air
I looked up to heaven thinking this just isn’t fair
A rainy may day was about to ruin my big mowing plan
And as the heavens opened suddenly I ran
Gathering up the mower the extension cable to
Emptying the mower box in to the recycling bin it flew
Then back into the shed all the bits and pieces went
As I ran back in the rain in the garage door I leant
So my mowing day was over the rain was pounding down
Even with my IPod on I had a dreadful frown
A rainy May day washed away my plans to cut the lawn
Yet I know I’ll get another chance a dry May day will dawn
Till then the lawn will stay half cut at least until it’s dry
Then I will get the lawn mower out and have another try
As I wait for death amid the calm.
I see through the window all of you.
No one can see me and the hearing is dying.
Ring in the New Year and my limbs reach for the warm.
Help me make one last stand.
I love the rain and your food for thought.
I wait patient , youthful and my sap stretched.
I long for your cool breeze and like a dog I bark in warning.
And as the axe falls I shudder and am diminished.
That door slammed angrily and while I wait the rain washes me.
No longer do I feel my age, I see your reflection and your sadness.
And as I slowly die I am placed on the stretcher and I drink my last drop.
But as I lay quivering.
You bathe and place me at the door.
I am no longer naked as you dress me.
A light blinks on and the glitter and charm works.
The clothing is your finest saved by generations and my balls are hung.
A drought has been declared, no hose pipes can we use
There has been such light rain for two years, but I think it is a ruse.
The day the drought was declared the heavens opened up
They have not stopped precipitating; one certainly dare not look up.
The water flows as free as lager at a barbecue
Constantly pouring, persisting it down, and the same problems ensue.
We are drenched in all sorts as drains do rise, and rivers flood their banks
But the drought warnings still apply there are supposed empty water tanks.
The spring rain is falling not like tears on babies’ cheeks
But pouring and pouring constantly, and has been now for weeks.
Still the drought does linger but I think I know the ruse
They will put the bloody price up, and watch us blow a fuse.
Saturday, rain or sun, garage sale,
moving from my old heritage apartment.
Years of collecting, some must go,
things that have given me such contentment.
Two china cabinets, one from Mom,
one from Grandma, remembering with a smile.
Perhaps, I can somehow fit them in,
my lofty new pad, wall to wall china cabinet style.
As I go through my many things and stuff,
I have to laugh and say, "why did I ever get that!"
Clothing gothic, retro and vintage lace,
shoes, handbags, jewelery and even some hats.
A broken and battered old filing cabinet,
it holds years of poetry written from my heart.
Need to find a new filing system for sure,
should I sell some." Oh no we can never be apart!"
Vases and vases, colourful and quite lovely,
dusty on my window sill for years, quite useless.
Porcelain dishes from Grandma, quite pretty,
in my cupboards for years, lost in forgetfulness.
Old movies, much watched, VHS outdated,
music and well lets say it, just loads, tons of stuff.
How does one say goodbye? Time to shed the old,
garage sale, Saturday, rain or sun." This will be rough!"
Written September 8, 2012
For the contest, A Poets Garage Sale
Sponsored by Skat
"The Sky is Calamotastrophing!"
Screamed little Jenny Lou!
And everyone panicked, running this way and that!
I just didn't know what to do!
Amidst all the commotion,
I quite calmy asked,
"What does calamotastrophing mean?"
But Jenny didn't reply back.
The sky was calamotastrophing
right on her head!
Boy I bet she wished that today
she never got out of bed!
There were huge chunks of white stuff
thumping on the ground!
I could even see a glimpse
of a spark come out of a cloud!
The sky thought it'd be funny too
if it dumped water on us as well!
And so we were drenched with water!
Jenny wasn't happy! I could tell!
"Why are you doing this?"
I yelled to the sky.
It answered back with a freezing glob of powder.
But soon, the sky stopped
calamotastrophing for good!
"I'm glad that's over!" I said aloud.
At least the word calamotastrophing I finally understood!
There's black storm clouds outside
and if they should let go
it won't be rain reigning down,
it will be the ice cold snow.
Ominous and black the clouds
that blanket the sky overhead
and if their flurries they let fly
I think I'll hide in bed.
Black clouds hover overhead,
threatening and dark.
Time to go find the shovel in case
Old Man Winter leaves his mark.
I do not mind the rain too much.
It has it's uses , true.
The snow has no appeal for me.
I'll be glad when winter's through.
Luck is not in my dictionary
So, my life, losses only carry
Of course I make a honest try
But, ignores it God in the Sky
When I well prepare for the exam
Fate changes that day's program
In case I buy my favorite fruit
My joy, all tiny worms loot
If I go to the doctor for consultation
He would have gone out of station
When to tell my deep love I at last plan
She becomes the wife of another man
In the terrace when I put the flour
Suddenly comes a heavy downpour
I bought for my relative honey bottle
With diabetes he is making a battle
I gave generously bread to a beggar
He took it not due to severe sugar
Next day he to me sadly lamented
For his unhappiness, I repented
Superb English poems I finely write
My mother has no English might
When I decide to see today TV
Work in the office will turn heavy
When I aim for promotion in career
Head Office cancels it for that year
When I take the rain coat cautiously
Sun will generate heat mercilessly
In case I take not the rain coat
For severe rain, weather will vote
When I love to become a friend
His hand, none will kindly extend
While hearing a song in the radio
My family will prefer only the video
When I go cheerfully to the theater
Gets then punctured my scooter
God does not like me a bit
He does only the opposite
So I love not to live longer
Then God makes me linger
For five decades this is happening
So my disappointment is deepening.
SEARCH mvvenkataraman IN GOOGLE OR YAHOO
TYPE mvvenkataraman IN URL
It has been very dry because rain did not come here for a long time this year
So a bunch of us locals got together to discuss what the heck is going on around here
So, we thought it would be just a wonderful idea to get it from the horses mouth and
make it very clear
So yesterday when it did rain finally after so long an absence I captured a drop of rain to question so that we all might hear Just why rain avoided us so long, had we done anything to make it mad or did it not like us for some reason and decide not to appear
After several minutes of hard questions and not getting anywhere at all
The drop of rain seemed to cower and be smaller, shrinking with interogation fear
Well we thought we had it cornered as it kept shrinking with shame from each blast
upon its ear
Then all of a sudden something strange happened it just seemed to totally disappear
We don't know where it could have gone, for we had placed it under all the hot lights
so we could see it so very clear
So we put out an wide sweeping APB with a picture of a tear
If there are 24 hours in a day
how can night exist?
What is the difference between a fog
and a very heavy mist?
What do we mean by a heavy wind?
How can rain give way to showers?
I’ve been told people work too long
but how can you have shorter hours?
We have heavy rain in the morning
light rain the rest of the day,
why don’t they just say we will have rain?
And who weighs it anyway.
The sun will break through in patches
said the weatherman sounding profound,
but there maybe thunder clouds overhead
and I thought they’d be on the ground.
I contemplate the deep blue sky
While lying in the sun baked grass
And wonder what it is about the summer
That makes me such a lazy ...
Let's start over ...
While lying here in the sun baked grass
I contemplate the deep blue sky
And wonder what it is about the summer
That makes me such a lazy guy
Where once were clouds in skies of gray
With rain and snow falling out of it
Bringing on fits of depression
And really making me feel like ...
Umm, scratch that...
Where once rain and snow did fall
From clouds in skies of gray
Bringing on fits of depression
And completely ruining my day
Okay, that will work.
Now resides the deepest blue
A gift to bring me luck ...
Maybe I better stop right there!
Now resides a sign of luck
A gift of the deepest blue
Made even better today
Cause I lay here next to you
For Francine's "Blue on Blue on Blue" Contest
Written and posted on 6-28-2011
I am bored with rain
Everyday, that I awake I'm drenched
How amusing it must be for the water
I feel that it is laughing as it pit-patters my nice clothes
My hat becomes drenched, almost to say "Let your bald spot show"
Well, Mr. Rain I am just sick of it
I'm going to invent something so incredible that I can't even think of it right now
But I will and rest assured your days of drenching me and my plans will be through
I guess for now I'll stick with my umbrella
So the jokes on you because I have a state of the art umbrella recently bought
It is the cream of the crop, exquisite in all of it's glorious details
It is so......wonderful.....how does one open it though?
Haha! You win the battle this time rain, but I'll win the war
As soon as I figure out this silly umbrella!
You know, I'm not bored with the rain anymore: I can't stand it!
Written By Robert Matthew Hunt a.k.a R.M. Hunt on
“Guten Morgen”… or should I say “Good Morning”…
This is Punxsutawney Phil
Hailing you from Gobblers Knob
That’s my tiny hill!
Today, I am feeling like such a lucky ground hog…
I know that some of you may be weeping
But as for me I will soon be sleeping
Because, there’s going to be six more weeks of winter ~
You may say Phil what were you thinking!
Well, it was kind of hard to see here
With the rain turning to snow
It’s the day after the Super Bowl
Yet, somehow my shadow it did show;
You know I had to go,
Because, it frightened me so
Thus, back to bed I must go to hibernate
But not before my veggie shake…
By the way, the game was just great,
This is Phil signing off… Saying
“Haben Sie eine gute Nacht”
Meaning “Have a Good Night”
I’ve been up way too late!
I do not know?
The sun burned so bright
This morning, it was merely exposing
The clouds drifted away like white, puffy balloons
This afternoon, it was coming back together
Unveiling its extraordinary grace
Suddenly, the clouds turn black…
It was growing black as night
And it made me ponder:
Is change important?
And I shudder…
The rain showers might
This twilight, it was truly enthralling
Glance at it and its sparkling delight burns on
Seeing this in person
Is like earning a brownie or a sugar cookie!
This evening, it was arriving faster than
A cool cheetah running
Super fast in gracious fields…
Of golden grain and grass
It was glowing white as light
And it made me jump!
Is everything alright?
And I melt like butter
Come... we are wet clothes
clung to bodies clung to storm
where the rain falls up.
Lightning, lightning flash so bright lighting e'ery corner of night
Thunder, thunder from the sky rock me from my beddie bye
Rain drop, rain drop falling down saturate the thirsty ground
Windy wind whipping around tossing things west now eastbound
Tree branch, tree branch waving free knock out electricity
Darkness, darkness fills the house causing me to gripe and grouse
Flicker, flicker candlelight the time I wish you'd expedite
Onward, onward toward the hour when there once again be power
Kitty, kitty in the corner why so sad why play the mourner?
Soon oh soon this storm will pass ending your desperate morass
Lightning, thunder, rain and wind I wish your bane I could rescind
In the very warm May' afternoon,
I decided to take a stroll instead of being blue,
and getting a little adventurous was to discover
another pansy or violet bloom;
these flowers were the precious gifts of a little and frivolous lover,
who gave them to the prettiest ones who loved a boy in pursue:
and as the rain fell on the maples,
they giggled like silly kids hiding their dimples...
And who was listening what they were whispered?
The songbirds that watched them from the dripping, thick branches,
perhaps learning some of the human behavior from the tenderest ones,
who were quite funny and silly, and made great chums;
gitty was a word they did not comprehend,
but happily they chirped to make them glide and dance:
until their enthusiasm and frenzy did fray,
and they stopped, overcome by their fraility...
And would their sentinel's eyes move away and focus
on the unhappy butterflies that failed to flaunt their skills,
on the meadow of dandelions I waited to be chased,
but birds and butterflies flew away to warn me of a foul play:
with the fury of an impeding storm, they jumped on me
and began tickling my bare feet, to make me pay for my teasing;
delirious as a frantic clown, I laughed too hard to beg for mercy,
but they, the clever ones, ran off and left me screaming...
And as the rain fell on the maples, the haw-keyed Weimaraner
came to lick my cheeks, to give me comfort for my defeat,
and he barked and beckoned me to follow him to a nearby hiding:
there the brats were plotting their next michievous scheme
by water-filled balloons and a heap of shaving cream,
as they instructed one another how to surprise me in my retreat;
and as the rain fell on the maples towards early evening,
all their flabby plans came to an end, unable to outsmart their admirer...
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
So many people rave on about summer
To me this couldn’t be dumber
Winter is the time for me
A time where I feel truly comfortable and free
Winter is great sleeping weather
Either alone or embracing together
There is no season that is better
Some like it dry I like it wetter
My troubles get washed away with the rain
Swept away like the winter leaves down the drain
A time where I feel less pain
A time where I feel slightly less insane
With considerable rain comes a departure of the water restriction
One can bathe without fear of conviction
In summer people smell and sweat
Less likely in winter because it’s cold and wet
Winter starts on the 1st of June
With the darker winter nights comes a brighter moon
The sounds of the rain and wind at night
The pound of thunder accompanied by sparks of light
When it’s cold you can put on a beanie or an extra top
If it’s hot there are only so many layers you can strip before you must stop
Winter is a time for rain, hail and snow
A time when the weeds slowly grow
In winter there are less flies, rodents and ants
In winter I can feel comfortable wearing pants
In winter termites are less active or even dormant
Good for us but for them a bad predicament
Winter is a great time for a hot drink
And an excellent time to head to the ice rink
In winter you can hug without feeling sticky
Being intimate when it is hot can be quite tricky
A drink stays cold so you don’t need to add ice
In winter you can have a hot curry with rice
In winter football is played
Birds migrate and eggs are laid
You lay beside a warm fire
And drink red wine or whatever you desire
There’s nothing finer than a warm home cooked dinner
In winter you are less concerned about being thinner
You may get a little cough or sneeze
And you may see images like these
Children playing in a puddle
A loving couple having a cuddle
Winter colours can be dark but also bright
Like when water turns to snow it appears white
The sparkling of stars at night
The fallen leaves with the wind in flight
Winter is most definitely the best of the four seasons
This has been proven with so many reasons
Grumpy grey rain clouds, why must you bother me so?
You seem to follow me most everywhere I go?
To the beach for some sun, towel and lotion in hand,
And here you come casting your shade upon the sand.
In the park for a ride on a warm afternoon,
Next thing I know, drip, drip, drop from your sneaky gloom.
Though you were not invited to my birthday,
You showed up for cake and rained for most of the day.
Silly old grey rain clouds, why must you pester me?
Have you mistaken me for a flower, fruit or tree?
Why can't you stay fluffy, happy, high and white,
In the shape of turtles, ducks and puppies in flight?
No, you choose to be dark, dreary, grumpy and grey,
And to follow me around no matter what I say.
I do not know?
A thundered storm sends down water as like as being delivered down
in over abundantly filled buckets.
Woe is we...
What to dew?
Why is Noah over there building that over sized boat? ...
Does he think we will soon be treading through a watered like moat?
Why is old man Noah leading animals up that ramp in pairs?
Who knows? , Who cares?
Why is old man Noah sporting a snorkel and scooba fins?
Does he think this rain will never end?
Why is old man Noah loading that boat up with all his belongings?
When is this bloody rain storm going to quit?
Little did Noah's neighbors and friends realize that they were without
a clue or that they were short on wit.
A wiser man or neighbor would figure it out...
It was way too late as they banged and knocked on old man Noah's
There would no longer be dry days, no more.
They laughed at old man Noah for the very last day...
They would pay for their stupidity with their very own lives-Yes
THE SUNDANCE KID
Lively bursts of sudden air arise out of my sighs of rushed venom-
-out pops my eyes.
I can't believe my sight--I see my kid in Sundance dance,
all eager to please and pump.
The courage gives the love, it lives, it's alive
it's spreads out of his body, only five.
While he's flying off the ground I think to myself, he's got to be kidding around.
What's up is love and freedom and dancing in the sun.
My son lit, light bright and orange yellow streaks coming out of his being.
He's just being a kid, right?
He kicks up his small, brown stamped leather boots,
with little blue jean jeans and his red bandana shirt.
His hat on his head is cowboy suede and he yelps,
"I am the Sundance Kid, and rain drops keep falling on my head", as he falls into
the muddy dirt.
I swirl and twirl, my brain rambling, and blankly stare in strange glaring curiosity.
"How does he know who the Sundance Kid is?" "How does he know Raindrops
Keep Falling On My Head?"
And just as I am pondering the mysteries of a child's consciousness, a bicycle
built for two rides by and the rain begins to pour in front of my panicked,
frightened astonished adult face. My child begins to sing "Raindrops Keep
Falling on My Head" and I hear the sound of music.
The rain is falling with such voracity as I poke my head outside to peek.
The wind is blowing so hard I find it difficult to speak.
The wind just shut my door it took it from my hand.
What will I do I ponder as I stand?
I tried to open my door but I couldn’t get a grip.
As I tried to turn the handle but my hand would only slip.
While I stand here wondering what to do.
There’s not a dry spot on my body I’m soaked clean through and through.
All the doors and windows are locked what a predicament I’m in.
The wind is getting cold I have icicles on my chin.
Talk about luck the rain is turning to ice.
Man I wish I hadn’t of stuck my head out I’d be in my house all warm and nice.
Even if I broke a window the burglar bars would keep me out.
Ramming the door would not suffice for it’s much to stout.
And to my nearest neighbor who is only eight miles away.
I holler and I holler but he doesn’t hear a thing I say.
I see a car coming down my lane.
I hope it’s not my imagination, I hope I’m still sane.
Well lucky me he saw my wave.
And as he passed me by a wave he gave.
Now I’m getting real upset.
And a few choice words to him was let.
Wait a second what was that buzz, buzz, buzz?
Why it’s my alarm clock waking me up, it was, it was, it was.
Boy that was a nightmare I just had.
I’m happy it’s over I’m mighty glad.
Last week on the road
I saw three dead cats
run over by cars
heads smushed flat.
Last week I went to work
with a very heavy heart
and when I went to leave,
my car wouldn't start.
Last week it rained so hard,
the rain stripped the trees,
so it was raining rain and
it was raining leaves.
Last week we set our clocks back
and I can hardly see
driving to work
and doing seventy-three.
Last week I missed the game
and the Cowboys finally won.
Thank God in Heaven that
last week is finally done.