BROODING IMAGINATIONS-:-
intense
sadness
unfulfilled
solitude
evaluated
in a RENEWED INTEREST
distict
harbingers
visualised
positional
shifts
& SPARK OFF
internal
growing
moods
occluding
continuity
Brooding River
This winter saw a lot of rain in the river
Near the houses, it is still running clear and lucid
giving its soul to the ocean
On the old Roman Bridge, I asked the river to stop wasting
It's precious sweet water to the salty sea,
One cannot let thirsty horses drink brackish liquid
after having hauled a cart full of dead sheep
up to a mountain top,
offerings to a god that only exists in the mind of an
idiot savant.
The river hears me not; its job is to run dry during
the summer and when fall arrives, be reborn.
But beware of a river that has no fish
Those who haughtily laugh will be turned into frogs,
The banks are full of them.
Only a princess can make them into humans again.
But they will still have frog souls.
Alas, due to a hard time, the princess is a dancer in
A Spanish nightclub knows nothing about emails
And she is not on Facebook.
The brooding moorland
Is windswept and desolate...
And gives nothing back.
In this vast, hushed upper-land...
A very dreadful beauty!
-------------------------------------
Inside that wide void...
A resounding emptiness
Which fills the whole sky.
For never greater volume
With such solitude than here.
-------------------------------------
Strange, shrill calling birds
Above the rippling heather;
Their ragged shadows
Buoyed up on combing waves
Pushed out with each surge of wind.
--------------------------------------
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 dead sheep up to the mountain top as offering by an idiot savant, a gift
to a god that only exists in feverish minds
The river hears me not, its job is to run dry during the summer for at fall be reborn.
Beware of a river that has no fish!
Those who haughtily laugh will be turned into frogs banks, are full of them, petrified seeing nothing.
Only a princess can make them human again, but they will still retain the souls of frogs.
Alas, due to hard times, the princess is a dancer in a Spanish nightclub, knows nothing about emails, and is not on Facebook.
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 a picture to paint
Maybe make a holy pilgrimage
But a brooding nimbus, I’m not
A bowling ball with no fingerholes
Maybe hovering in a dim-lit sky
But rain is not me starting to cry
I can assume a variety of roles
But always when cold, never hot
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 re-entry into God's kingdom;
His mother cradled him softly in the softest enmesh of her
aching arms, over and over she repeated his name
like a sacred mantra.
He was born with a congenital heart defect
and wasn't expected to live over the age of one.
She walked him to the window and inside the sky
she saw a crepuscular light appear just before the sunrise
As the child was bathed in light two blue eyes opened
and a cupid mouth shaped an O, though nothing came out
but a deep deep sigh;
His chest heaved and with his eyes lifted to heaven
he was taken by a brooding nimbus cloud that appeared out of no where.
The rain began to fall gently from a heavy laden sky,
his soul saturated by love, climbed to heaven without even once having had the chance to ask God, Why?
#3 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,
Tendrils of vapours climbed around each house,
Ready to gobble you up,
if you dared to step out,
Humidity clung with vehement fierceness,
Black clouds darkled the evening sky,
Waiting to unload heavy showers,
Brooding nimbus
longing to cry...
The atmosphere was like a living breathing being,
Someone hiding in the moist shadows,
Sighing in stygian despondency,
Waiting to show its anger,
The calm before the storm...
Lightning cracked,
thunder rocked
the stillness,
Big, fat raindrops fell in steady downpour,
This was gonna be
a mighty thunderstorm...
Brooding Nimbus
Whirling in vortex of complexity.
Perplexed mind floating in confusion.
Illusion chasing emotive urge
directed by self-obsession.
Dormant desires dominating :
Feelings failing to rationalise.
Self -centered mind getting saturated .
Analysis fluctuates.
Ambition devastated : Frustration followed.
Couldn't detect, whether mind is full or hollow.
Couldn't complete syllabus of life
but floating aimless in 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 I wither in my pain?
The brooding nimbus in my sky
will not release one drop of rain.
At times, God sends a ray of light
to keep me hopeful, so I try
to smile and thank the Lord despite
the brooding nimbus in my sky.
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, an omen for rain,
Spells its ominous magic with a sense of scorn.
It broods and ponders, in somber reflection,
Drenching the world in gloomy sensation.
Each raindrop falling, a tear from its heart,
A symphony of sorrow, a melancholy art.
The land is drenched in its moody embrace,
As nature weeps, and tears stain its face.
In the gloom of brooding nimbus sky,
There are rays of hope and cheers in hearts,
People get much needed relief from blistering heat,
The dormant seeds sprout into verdant plants.
There is divinity in the clouds, nothing lasts forever,
As they drift and rain, sun comes out,
The rainbow appears on the horizon,
The flowers bloom, birds and critters sing, and wind breeze feels nice.
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 forced fleeing;
Memories fly beyond realms of nostalgia,
And soon turn into terrible cephalalgia;
Your flight beyond the skies toward spaces unknown,
Comes to stay in the nimbus of my mind, forlorn...!
Those plants and flowers; butterflies and honeybees,
Those streams and rocks and mossy slippery tall trees;
Those frogs and fish and clams and mussels and wrasses,
Those fine foams collected around like molasses;
All these bring to my mind those golden days bygone,
Come back, if you can, dear, that I may find new dawn...!!!
20 June 2023
Any Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Contest: Brooding Nimbus Sponsor: Edward Ibeh 6-19-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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 repines, floats in veils unabsolved,
Fades slowly into the unanswered why.
Slowly day chases back mystic extremes
Evening broods in misty nests of new dreams.
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 you can find you or can made up new
Maybe can be on the stars.
Maybe can write a story of your's.
Maybe can fly too high.
Maybe cross oceans and skies .
And when you start believing it, Just come back to time.
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, lightning nor hail.
One day soon, I hope my sad heart shall heal
and I'll welcome the sun's warmth on my face.
Then, I shall no longer have to conceal
teardrops from missing my lover's embrace.
I shall be freed from sadness, freed from pain
as dark brooding skies weep with mournful rain.
~ May 27th, 2022 ~
Orphan Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
dark cloud overhead
changing forms, instigating
becoming a storm
written August 2, 2021
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.