King Sol is stealing all my energy.
There’s no relief in sight, forecasters say.
Come, clouds, with brief relief; this is my plea.
While summer lovers bask in heat each day,
I’ll dream of fall and trust in my AC.
torontos fifties torrent
hurricane hazed-all
and...
the city's redesign
was to protect all
however...
forecasters know time as
an unpredict-table at tea
and...
now torontos time be
as some city on a sea
stan sand
DISCOMBOBULATION
The weather here is so confusing
Forecasters often getting it wrong
Mostly cold, yet sometimes warm
Always seems to look like a storm
And will be raining before too long
It’s not any climate of my choosing
Don’t bet on sun for fear of losing
I guess round here I don’t belong
A weather channel tries to inform
But overnight freezes are the norm
Winter wonderland not just a song
These surprises are never amusing
For some, it’s all about anticipation
But for me, it is discombobulation
March days in Ohio
sometimes a lion, sometimes a lamb
They often trade places, whenever they can.
Today: Hi 50's-open blue sky with napping winds.
the Sun makes all the difference.
Sweatshirt, jeans, shades dress the day. I sit in a
splendid, sunny, but humbling, silence knowing all
Earth is alive. Given her weathered wisdom, she
slowly begins to don her fresh Spring wardrobe. In this
realm there is no discrimination--all colors embraced,
one for all, all for one. All creatures in place with babes in tow-
links in a perfectly balanced, unbridled chain of harmonic grace.
Forecasters folly their lofty predictions, keeping them close to the vest,
while Rooten-Tooten rodents use shadow play tactics in their furry jest,
attempting to upstage and win the prized, fake meteorological test.
So Ditch your Dopplers, models and such, for we all know--
"Mother knows best"!
(the actual date was 3-23-2023.)
The snow keeps falling, it doesn’t want to stop
Covering the trees from bottom to top
A blanket of beauty, but the roads are a risk
Not great for driving in the air so brisk
Shoveling is tiring, as the snow lands fast
But, great fun for kids who want to have a blast
The snow keeps falling, forecasters were wrong
Will it be the same Wednesday with next storm to come along?
Heidi Sands
1/23/23
If I coded like forecasters predict, I'd have caught a lot of hail.
When skies are crystal clear and cloudless
The sun is mercilessly like a blast furnace,
Signs of cyclical global warming doubtless
And enough of it will undoubtedly turn us
Into a freaky-tanned species, or cancerous.
Makes me wonder what the future holds
Portending climate change is getting worse
Every seasonal change a new crisis unfolds,
And it appears they are becoming perverse
Floods, fires, tornadoes, hurricanes a curse.
Summers are hotter -- winters are colder
Seems many storm signs are unpredictable,
While weather patterns are getting bolder
Bringing conditions ever so undesirable,
Meaning more than merely uncomfortable.
Obviously, we have little control over this --
We haven’t the means to change the weather
With forecasters it is often a hit or a miss,
One thing’s certain, we’re all in this together,
And we must learn to cope, come whatever.
Written August 9, 2022
[Rhyme scheme ababb]
Climate Change
David J Walker
I
A teacher we know
died suddenly
or so
it seemed
and
It seemed
as if it were
a dream
unfulfilled
The climate in schools
Is changing
II
Forecasters gathered
in convocations
and manifestations
to explain away
a rainy day
that never came
predictions changed
the next day
anyway
the climate of clouds
is changing
III
I remember the promises
made
at the rallies and
and debates
by candidates
who can’t wait
to give back
give or take
factor X
the climate of politics
is changing
IV
We are expanding
said the astronomer
but people disbanding
listened to
their astrologer
because they say they preferred
the mystic word from
those who
would tell them
what they wanted
to hear
for a hundred dollars
a session
the climate of the universe
is changing
while working
on the road
he says forecasters
are always wrong
he laughs
and wants
others to laugh
with him
but the others
don't understand
he has returned
to work
after his breakdown
the other day
a year
after a brief
time in service
a skirmish
and now
a breakdown when
he chases a woman
with a knife
and now
he yells
at someone
be a man
as if
he’s talking
with others
in the barracks
and when
a cloud passes
he says
that he
can feel
a change
of weather
in his bones
but with a
sudden loud noise
a war once fought
resonates in his head
Seems like we got dumped on today
Between 20 and 30 cm forecasters say
Had it easy so far
Blessed our lucky stars
Welcome to spring bright sun every day
We look for responses when we should find an answer
People aren’t healing, just left with a scar
We are divided when we could stand together
Our freedom’s a trap that leads us so far
They all speak of good future
Well said, by a liar
That’s all just a rumor
The earth is on fire
Riches, greedy; shadows a’lurking
Millions of children
Forcefully working
The world, our home, it’s drowning
The corpses, we’re still counting
National disasters, murder forecasters
The earth could be better without us
We are our own barrier
Those without hope
The disease of death’s carrier
Do all we can to cope
National famine, a crop-barren floor
Not a single flower
Left any more
Go out now, children, while you can and play.
The time to romp and frolic will not last.
Drink Kool-Aid under shade trees while you may.
Sing simple songs of childhood, dance and sway.
Tomorrow might be glum and overcast.
Go out now, children, while you can and play.
Time’s flies. Take to the yard without delay.
Turn off the TV. Won’t Mom look aghast?
Drink Kool-Aid under shade trees while you may.
Turn on the sprinkler. Welcome its cold spray.
Play hide-and-seek, and have yourselves a blast!
Go out now, children, while you can and play.
“Tomorrow—chance of rain,” forecasters say.
It’s nine o’clock. The morning’s going fast.
Drink Kool-Aid under shade trees while you may.
Your parents watch and smile on such a day,
recalling joyous summer months long past.
Go out now, children, while you can and play.
Drink Kool-Aid under shade trees while you may.
March 7, 2022
entered in the Brian Strand Structured Poetry Contest
January 6, 2023
entered in the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 24 Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
The middle of summer, cooler than usual
It's global warming, but sure ain't provable
No 90s yet
Not likely I'll bet
Methinks these forecasters are quite delusional
Freely forming metrical mainstays
poetic occasion to phrase
the fairer and gentler sex,
thus the following turns of phrase
to bestow acknowledgement
regarding wonderful wise ways
of collective she who assays
to create safe/secure home/ hearth
as bedrock and fount of ample
maternal duties tiredly sashays
with keeping house receiving praise
the second Sunday each May, her
tired body sprawled on chaise
lounge, perhaps basking in solar rays
communing with Gaia, who whiz
bruiting with sky goddess
defying forecasters prediction, no slate grays
pose dampening effect on huzzahs
regaling torchbearer diploid as amaze
zing newlife, where loving labor pays
more than fine spun gold cherishing
offspring in her nurturing ways.
Paean dutiful daily deference, I dole
ensconced with pineapple getup
surfing the cyber sea, this hyperbowl
lee, yet deserved dignity deifying dames,
who bear brunt whole
ding potent biological reproductive role
de facto duty honorably decreed
tribute paid despite commercialized
money making hyped up rigamarole,
nonetheless yours truly accentuates sole
sans, progenitor of human race
saddled with disproportionate/ unfair toll.
A Northeaster is coming on Friday
The forecasters say it will “Bomb Out”
They have these new words they use
So, should I pout or should I shout?
I will prepare for a winter snow storm
As we call it, like the blizzards in the past
Knowing heavy wet snow is on the way
Hoping Mother Nature’s brew, will pass by fast
Heidi Sands
12/30/18
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