Brooding Poems

Brooding River

Brooding River

This winter saw a lot of rain in the river near the houses, still running clear and lucid, giving its soul
to the ocean
On the old Roman bridge, I asked the river to stop wasting its precious sweet water on the salty sea
One cannot let thirsty horses drink brackish water
having hauled a cart full of

Brooding Nimbus

BROODING NIMBUS

I am not just an ordinary cloud
Dark and menacing all in grey
A harbinger of storm and rain
Ready to fulfil my destiny again
Snow will fall, as it must obey
Blanketing Earth like a shroud

But I do prefer the other image
As a halo that surrounds a saint
An light emanation for a deity
And an example of spontaneity
Inspiration of

Brooding Nimbus

Quote by author: "Its as if an angel wept and left behind all the tears of heaven's sorrow"

The floodgates of my thoughts wide opened 
and out came an outpouring of love and compassion 
from the font of my wicker nebulous heart* 
I saw him with my naked eye fighting for his life  
struggling for

Brooding Nimbus

Darkness loomed over the place, 
Damp air hung like a shroud, 
Crows cawed in the distance, 
If ever you felt gloom, it was here, 
You could almost reach out and touch it, 
A cold mist cloaked everything, 
Not a hint of colour to be seen, 
The cobbled streets were deserted, 
except for the shadowy fog,

Brooding Nimbus

Brooding Nimbus


           Whirling in vortex of complexity.
               Perplexed mind floating in confusion.
                  Illusion chasing

Brooding Nimbus

The brooding nimbus in my sky
will not depart. A sunny day
I long to see, so why oh why-
I ask- will it not go away.

Why do I look and always see
the brooding nimbus in my sky?
Compassion? It has none for me.
I pray for it to pass me by.

I long for rain, but all is dry.
Oh, must

Brooding Nimbus

I have an aura of a purple ambience. . . 
           a woebegone . . . forlorn essence and perfume 
        my painful past is a heavy dark cloak
     I am subdued and solitary

Brooding Nimbus

With the brooding nimbus clouds in the sky,
It gets darker and darker with eerie silence in ears,
the flash of lightning illuminates the dark skies,
the sound of thunder fills the heart with fear.

The nimbus clouds look so ominous,
Darker it gets, louder it thunders,
It changes its pattern every minute,
Like the ever-changing thoughts in our minds.

The brooding nimbus,

Brooding Nimbus

Blackish, brownish, and greyish clouds on zenith call,
The white lambs like the ones below, unheeding, crawl;
The immaculate white egrets in elation,
Mock the grey herons, in calm Zen meditation;
Kow-kow of cuckoos and the coo-ee of koels,
Sound and resound in the idyllic nature strolls...!

A sense of sadness, yet, surrounds my whole being,
A bit of depression evokes a

Brooding Nimbus

Contest:  Brooding Nimbus				Sponsor: Edward Ibeh		6-19-23

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Brooding Nimbus

Midnight trails a filmy brooding nimbus,
Idle shadows etch lines on the daylight;
Vertigo lingers, teeters on limbus,
Distorted ghosts escape into dawn’s sight.

Remnants of realms, inborn of misshaped clouds,
Ruminate raindrops to bleed the bizarre
Palpable phantoms the mid-day enshrouds -
Reclines as shape-shifts in murmuring stars.

Hobbled memories drifting unresolved,
Surrealistic needles stab dazed eyes
Fretting

Brooding Nimbus

Some lonely days just you and your soul,
peaceful streets and your ruminating thoughts, push them side for a while. 
Little walk across the path,
Siezing Simple things and painless scenes inside your head.
 Just for trice world is beautiful afar from reality You have no worries nothing to hide or to show. Small talk within maybe

Brooding Skies

As dark brooding skies weep with mournful rain,
I tread to hide tears of heartache and grief,
trying to staunch my lament, but in vain.
From love now lost, I've not yet found relief.

On cloudless days I scan harbor and shore,
distant horizons, for signs of a gale.
But I hear no rumbling of thunder's roar,
no hint of a downpour,

Brooding

dark cloud overhead
changing forms, instigating
becoming a storm

written August 2, 2021

The Brooding Storm

Dark black ominous clouds move slowly across the mortal sphere.
A promising downpour threatens the unrest souls.
Thunderous voices of indigenous cultural split the mortal sphere.
This brooding storm, created from fallacies that suffocated the truth.
Forceful winds of propaganda demoralize the virtuous.
Fierce lighting reveals the shamelessness of the dark heart.
What seems to matter will matter no more, once

Brooding Presence

being adventurous mammalians
we seek to avoid the repetition of pain
and encounter the repetition of pleasure
which might be why the ones who have everything
take from those who have nothing
just to get a little bit more
in a retroactive stylistic tendency
which has survived from the dark centuries
as annotated in the severe prognostications
from eminent gargoyle collector J. B. Hoopersnacky
of

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