Best Cyclone Poems


Premium Member Cyclone Chaser

He's a cyclone chaser, cloaked in neon tracer
that mirrors stars dying, heartless witches flying

Premium Member He Was Called Cyclone

Feint
Heads spin
Ghost drifts time
Floating through shapes
Goal!



12/29/13

Tropical Cyclone

 Chrome metallic clouds
Treacherous fluctuating waves
Whispers of the storm


Cyclone Haikus

CYCLONE HAIKUS


      Mighty trees once proud
No match for destructive winds
      Toppled to the ground


       Loud and angry howls
Powerful and mighty gusts
      All heads bow in fear


       Winds rage night and day
 No way to cover our ears
      To drown out the sound

Cyclone

round cyclone in sea
                                 nature's unseen first finger
                                       rotates in middle
© Bl Devnath  Create an image from this poem.

Pitapat Torrents

The grey taps of the heavens are leaking,
    Thunder goes ka-boom,
Heavy rains drip drip with lightning streaking,
    Zipping through the gloom;

Non-stop, the water flows, forming puddles,
    Feet squish through the rain,
Inside our home, under blanket cuddles,
    We wish to remain;

At night, the frogs, they ribbit- ribbit loud,
    Enjoying the damp,
Rivers flow on streets under the storm cloud,
    Showering its stamp;

Praying for this pitter-patter to end,
    Rain drumming the land,
How much more torrent from the sky'll descend?
        No more can we stand.



11.10.2021




For Emile Pinet's "Onomatopoeia" contest

Syllable count: 10.5.10.5 (checked with howmanysyllables.com)

Rhymes checked with rhymezone.com


The Cyclone

The wind blows strongly
The branches of trees dancing
leaves and birds disturbed.

It moves in circle
Objects and sand rotate too
Cyclone ravages.

The Cyclone

Moving 
Making sounds 
Blowing, shaking, raining
Lightening, roaring, breaking, blasting 
Terrible.

You'Re Such a Lovely Cyclone

Hey girl!
I love the way you whirl, 
and swirl,
so deep inside my heart.
you're such a lovely cyclone as you tear my mind apart.
seething lava in my veins,
tsunami in my breast,
a hurricane that's gone insane,
an earthquake that won't rest.
your tremors how they move me,
I simply can't resist,
so I sprout wings, sweet golden things,
and fly into your kiss.

http://lovestruehome.com/

Premium Member Riding a Cyclone

How many years?  I'm not even sure
It was late in the day, as the sun turned to rust
I was holding his hand, and trembling with fear
Kicking up dust with my Mary Jane shoes
filled with concoctions of sugar and goo
Looking at him for assurance and trust

I remember our feet boarding the plank
as if on the brink, of a life or death prank
My Dad, (for the fourth time, a smile on his face)
had offered a chance to back out with grace

But I was determined, insistent and firm!
How many times, had he taken a turn...
with my brother in tow?....While I watched from below
confined like a babe of the infantile row?

Dad finally relented, to my mother's chagrin
then took my hand,.......and my bravado began...
Sticky the heat, and so were my hands, ...we waited our turn
while a tummy would churn

We boarded the Cyclone, a faceless contraption, 
that seemed quite familiar...the seaside attraction
that brother had made on our living room floor 
with his Tinker Toy set, and the toys we adored

A strange looking man with a raw sunburned nose
and a head that seemed too small, like a small cabbage, posed
escorted us on,  into a red metal bucket, 
strapped us inside, like mice in his pocket!

The sound of the metal, was skimming the track
Winding up slowly, then full-on attack!
I buried my face in the arm of my Dad....
Blinded by fear, never once looking back 

The Cyclone, I'm sure was fierce as could be
I wanted to look, and was too blind to see

Finally it stopped.  We departed unharmed !
But never again...  I was........NOT to be charmed

I only remember my two shaky knees, 
barely walking the plank into my mother's arms !




------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5/21/14

Whispers from the Cyclone

Through a masterful performance
                                            I keep using
whatever poison is found around
                                            to avoid abusing
my fragile psyche swirling inside.
                                            The most sensitive
fragments my ego beholds are
                                             of  resistive
stubbornness and the negative
                                            perspectives I hold.
“Get it together” and “Now”
                                          I am told
after attempts to relate
                                          with an embrace
miscarries the truth
                                  about beauty and grace.
Forced, I listen intently
                                       and dream of hope.
The brain heeds nothing
                                    but this downward slope.
Without a timeless day ahead 
                                             I can’t equate
each dreadful decision made
                                           to will or fate.
Positive regard trickles slower 
                                                  as I drip
off of a ledge into free fall.
                                          I only grip
what is in feasible reach of
                                           the comfortable.
Depravity and gravity unites.
                                                Barely audible... 
to those overhead who witness me;  ....
 .                                                     ....now alone
Suspending....… all ideas in                            
                                              the whirling cyclone
if for no other reason than
                                               screeches
heard from the love left above:
                                                 Preaches.
Clarity escapes quickly though;
                              Echoes haunt the dark below
If I fall where shadows softly go,
                              will secrets rise from 
                                                             depths 
                                                          unknown? 


3/28/2017
"on any subject" contest
long form 
right side short form

The Chopper Cyclone

The Chopper Cyclone

Oh Wild Wind!  Why so rude?
Oh Dear God! Why no mercy?
Waited for rains; what we got is rage
Nursed hopes; only horror remains

December last, unbridled floods,
December this year, the Wild Wind
Gory events; misfortune manifested
With none to stop; our life is on hold

Oh Wild Wind! Why the dance of death?  
Felling thousands of trees, we loved      
All cables and power lines snapping to halt                     
Through howling cries; all passed away en-mass                                   

A moment of mayhem, wrought havoc untold           
The tall trees all, massacred, maimed
The wild aerobics; snuffing out the breathe,
Mauled and mangled the city is left mourning

Those that escaped wrath, some flora exist
Battered and bruised, broken and bent, 
Twisted and tampered; crippled they lie
Centuries old, veterans, in ruins, they cry

Revival; may take a hundred years,  
Alas, many of us will be gone by then,
Our companions, all through they were,
On a mad noon act; all vanished to nowhere

Ten thousand trees lost; is the count we have
As the city lies barren without, the green it wore
Family of trees lay victims; in parks and on pavements 
While every road and compound added to the lore

Yes we waited for our reservoirs to fill
For flora, fauna and fields to survive
In turn; only received tears in our eyes
Only numbness remains, all hearts bleed

Last year water; this year the storm
Call it what you like; but curse is same
All elements that we presumed were allies 
Turned a foe; that tale, God alone can tell

In a moment of madness; hate let loose
The ghost wind, showed rage unending
The fierce storm, hell bound it stood
Decimated everything in its path                                    

Relenting only after revenge; extracted 
As everyone around was in sheer disbelief
Dazed and shattered and shocked were we 
Too numbed to think and too dumb to act

Yet the calamity will soon be forgotten; 
As History’s bosom has many such stories
But both the scars will remain for decades,
The World has its dark side too!

Cyclone Cyclops

Cyclone Cyclops


Abundant rain and profusion,
Darkness, wind and confusion,
Tempests; Cyclone is hungry
It tosses brick, man and sundry.

Womb of Heaven’s rupture
Bourne in wings of angry Nature
Celestial Dogs has set loose-
Pegasus too, broke the noose....

Topsy-turvy; Nature tumbles
‘Afore angry Nature’s rumbles
Twisting every structure
And snapping every suture!

Lo! Hell is roiling in solid snow
High hills bow flat and low-
Deep rivers ‘rise’ in waves
That stirs cold, forgotten graves.

You run to the high mountain
Which refuses to entertain....
“Kill me. Here’s the knife!”
None wants to take your life!

The loft turns pretty slippery 
Under the sodden drapery.
To hide, dive in a frozen river
And surface with a fever or shiver.

Cyclops who is mad and angry
Inundating with slimy dysentery,
When silent goes his angry tone
Know, the monster is now gone.

‘Remnants’ of life and self gather
Again, to begin to be a father.
For, debris left in the mad wake
Leaves mind ceaselessly awake!


JM

09th February 2014

Premium Member Cyclone

Zephir augured imminent rainfall
Azure turned in a somber sky
Raindrop puddles in the soil
Storm in the horizon 
Seagulls seek haven
Wind swayed the leaves
Tropical 
Storm knocked
Port

The Storm

far away you start to form
from the western hills ,you start your life
gaining strength and causing strife
five hundred miles you build your force
knowing exactly your destined course
now in the east i hear your sound
i fear your destination has been found
the sun in the sky starts to fade
as the clouds turn to a dark shade of grey
bang,  crack the lightning arrives 
with her brother the thunder god, of the skies
a force of strength that has no match
as a fearsome sight my eyes did catch
with a mighty bang the sky starts to cry
weeping her tears from a blackened sky
trees all round hold on tight
for their life is in danger on this day and night
the brown burnt grass starts to dance to life
i see  green shoots cut through the earth like a knife.
i sit and watch as the old man i am
never boring of nature ,so grand
she threatens my life ,though spares me today.
i know she,ll be back some  other day.
till then my old friend , natures force.
ill wait for you to take your next course
© Andy Ervin  Create an image from this poem.

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