Best Downpouring Poems

My anger boils deep down inside.
Yet I smile with sparkling eyes.
Hot blood flowing vie chamber to chamber…
Thumping heart beats vexed closer to danger…
Drinking in downpouring tears and cries.
Yet I smile with sparkling eyes.

Pissing out vengeance, bourbon and wine.
Bowels rumble loudly from the hate I dine.
Hands...

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I want to
s         e
t           l
r          g
   an
the neck of the demon
who pushes me to
be in a...

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The gravity above bends all curvature.
Rusty creases smooch the downpouring nectar,
leaving hints of shaky aches here and there.
More of it can split smiles and slit tears.

Nails intrude into the forbidden territory.
Drill repeatedly to fill air in, get gas out--
until no substance is not depleted.
Why stuff...

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Finger tips trace these scars like rivers of pregnant silence, 
Your hands are like the touxh of midas,
Each stroke makes me feel good,
Lips touching flesh, its an erotic shade of a thousand colored rainbows,
Painting my mind with such vivid colors,

Like flavoured water, i just cant...

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She knows who she wants, so she goes after her man.
Able to convince everyone, she persuades as she can.
He is on an island, so she steals a Wyandotte’s canoe.
He tries to escape, but she ties him up with a lace from her shoe.

I am not...

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I'm standing here still, where the sweat of my soul fell__
knee deep in the blood... of our wishing well
Right back here where our troubles began.
where we decided to stand; be us woman or man.
~under the broken streetlight with our story to tell.
knee deep in the...

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It’s  voice causes the shiver
its name causes the stagger
tremours boiling
fettle downpouring
Heartbeats panicking
families isolating

Like a turret, it oozes
like a trumpet, it blows
emanating shockwaves
spurring Venom
hissing sparks
scything down humans like grass.

Some say the states gave it light
But Daddy says “Wuhan”, without delight
Basking with the thought
“Does Wuhan Gloat,
is...

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You, Czeslaw,
like a brook of the earth,
welling up to the skies and more,
swelling up even to the sun and the stars
and all unknown, uncounted galaxies
and more, more than we can yet know
or ever will, till in timeless space
we dwell in a place where
our tears mingle...

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I’ll agree to be anything,
If you only remain around,
Even just as a dewy string, 
Underneath your feet on the ground…

I’ll be your ever pumping heartbeat,
Your invisible shadow unknown,
Or a weightless feathery wheat,
On the palm of your hand, forlorn…

I will serve as your whole universe,
If you...

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People loathe living in a filthy place.
Earth is a prone quagmire, for instance.
The legal maze hides some awful truth.
Painful to steer race and migrant sooth.

Ingenious ideas that people have evolved
Amid a verbal storm, feelings were dissolved.
Leaving a path of destruction in its wake.
There are countless...

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I can’t get the moors
out of my skin;
me the indirect descendant of Jim Bowie,
the wild colonial boy
now planted like a 
‘Wandering Jew’ in a pot,
in tame Ohio.
Planted in a State
where few venture
far from their high school roots.

The moors grind you
into peat and gritstone,
They keep walking...

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I always felt empty and as nothing before.
I always filled my heart with reasons to abhor.
I taught myself hate, nothing less nor more.
I knew less about love, therefore, 
I’d spend days downpouring tears laying on the floor, 
Starring at the roof till my eyes would...

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The overpouring raindrops, the incessant rain outside was telling me continuously,
She was a story to nay sayer
and he was a theme park to symbolic haifa.

Baha'i temple and a raincoat.
People get soaked there.
With theocracy, bureaucracy, faithfulness, faithlessness, midlife crisis and many more like all these.
We and...

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Summer
Oppressive heat
Field crops withering brown
Farmers praying for downpouring
Cloudburst

FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's 1,2,3,4,5 Line Poetry Contest
August 16, 2021

written May 25, 2021...

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I can’t get the moors
out of my skin -
me the wild bog asphodel
now planted 
in a pot in tame Ohio.

The moors grind you
into peat and gritstone,
they keep walking you around
while the open spaces sweep you dry,
even in the downpouring sky,
even under the bitter grasp
of banshee...

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