Ed Kay Poet Rhyme

The Thunder of the Middle East

It shakes the screens of folks all over
The thunder, meanest loudest kind
The moving storm, call it a rover
With crumpled buildings left behind

Not gonna stop, until it’s finished
With shaking lands, perceptions, souls
Until the evil is diminished
And once it’s done achieving goals

We don’t get these very often
The scale is grand and awe superb
When ghoulish grip on humans softens
Though lasting echoes shall reverb

The smoke, the flashes, red and yellow
And booming sound of thunderstorm
It’s full of rage emitting bellow
More like exception than the norm

We watch, we listen, caught by fear
Or maybe joy the thunder brings
So far away, and yet so near
Precursor of so many things

March 5, 2026

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