Who and what.? Are words more relevant.?
Spirit in flesh..Fears foibles desires and
A realm of intentions.' Veering off occasionally, of the better path.' Could
Have been me.? I happened i saw it! The
Rain came twice against the forecasts ( in January ) in L A and in
Victoria..The fires died, I got up the next
Day and tripped over.' Banged my nose
Had to wipe my eyes.' Struggled through
The cold English rain, a car just missed
mine..Mundane stuff people.'One day my
Car will be part of a robot.? Could be.? Or
Just a rusted hulk.? Can you tell me exactly.? No you can't I can't, there are many things i cannot do.' What is valueble? Whar is the imperative.? A glass of clean water, or a vase of it, with fresh flowers.? Is that fullfilling.? Its not the whole, yet part of the sum.' Its in its place
The same as the river, the mountains the
Plains and the valleys, works of antiqity
Observed in museams, or looted.' And placed on a table somewhere.? I do not know, what the next hour will bring ' the
Unseen post service, that always delivers.'
Unpaid i'll grant you, but always aware, of
My existence, in the great somewhere.'
The air remembers.
It remembers the weight of cedar pollen, the long green exhale of forests that stood where highways now glitter like rivers of metal.
It remembers lungs that filled without fear.
My grandfather inhaled and tasted rain. I inhale and taste warning labels.
Yet every spring the lilacs persist, opening their small purple mouths against statistics, against forecasts, against the arithmetic of ruin.
The air remembers.
The question is whether we will.
Love, with a spark of pain,
or pain, with a spark of love;
are like the summer - with forecasts of rain,
or like winter - with glimpses of sun.
In the middle of the darkest night,
I make a surprisingly large sight.
In a boundless appearance in times.
Mercifully fleeting, swirling, and patterned climbs;
Swift, laborious, and icy blasts;
And horrible in some places that are forecasts.
I constantly change with the site,
Never the same but always a sight.
With moving wind and howling sound,
Bringing a low climate close to freezing ground,
Covering the land in a pristine blanket of glistening
Snow. Some snuggle indoors in comfort, not listening.
I am never alone. My frosty white mornings bring
Tranquil calmness to those and countless creatures to spring
As I embrace. Then silence is broken with the sound.
Of the crunching footsteps. On the frost-covered ground.
With the energy of nature and the activities of human fun,
I host a unique universe of life under the sun.
I am Winter, a magic in a world of great wonder.
Engaging and entertaining, ladening life snowed under.
Indian summer come and gone
the winds have turned cold
the trees now almost bare.
Reaching for our warmer coats,
there’s no denying fall’s arrived.
The first snow has fallen.
The forecasts had warned us,
still it was a shock to all.
As for me I had a strategy.
I locked my door and stayed inside,
I planned to let my system adjust
no matter how long it would take.
A couple days of stubbornness,
I start to finally see the light.
I remember things I like
about the period gearing up to Christmas.
The happiness within begins again to stir ~
Lineku: 3 lines of 5-7-5 each line comprised of 5 or 7 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
There is a persistent embrace,
a longing and a kissing,
a childlike giggling,
a free and predictable smile.
Life foresees every dawning,
foretastes every light ray,
foretells every essence,
forecasts every ambience.
Life proclaims every mountain top,
every sultry, tangled jungle,
every scorched and waterless desert,
every fathomless ocean floor.
Dreams are uncharted roadmaps,
virtual animated realities,
virtual luminous mysteries,
virtual unconscious answers.
When we are manhandled,
our humanity maligned,
our freedoms denied,
Hope must never leave us.
Hope is a relentless tomorrow.
When we flee the crackdown,
the masked, menacing Gestapo,
our imprisonment in foreign Gulags,
Hope must never leave us.
Hope is a relentless tomorrow.
For there is always a daybreak,
ever another awakening,
ever a perennial blossoming,
a season of conception.
Hope must never leave us.
Hope is a relentless tomorrow.
March is Nature’s Halloween
treats us to a winsome Spring day
while she forecasts snowstorms on the way
In between a tornado or two
just to make you gnash your teeth
Winter’s parting trick bequeathed
February Gray
The weather and my mood, dismal as KING 5’s Headline News
reports of politics, war and a cold rain forecast for tomorrow,
makes me take a break from TV or staring out the window
at gray Seattle skies to take a walk down on the waterfront.
Only 5PM, yet pier 62 dock lights are already on, pale and heatless
halos of dimness in the hard as iron air slowing everything down.
Dark waves caress the seawall, rolling rhythms of shushing silence
murmuring me to wonder, When was the last time we whispered?
Suddenly, as if a dream could control weather, the sky brightens.
Beams of soft sunlight, glowing rays from a blue lip on the horizon,
radiate a warmth felt on my face. I smile for the first time this day,
as wet forecasts and despairing news recede with the setting sun.
Long-range forecasts
predict outbreaks of pretty weather girls.
In the event of short-range predictions,
some ugly guy may be substituted.
In the case of an emergency,
mice may seek the sheltering wings
of owls and hawks.
By midnight, the total destruction
of garden gnomes is anticipated.
Survivors are asked to remain
in their bathtubs
until absolutely clean.
AH! POLICY ...
Politicians mock politicians
Democracy groans every day
and the people vote without thinking!
WEATHER FORECASTS
Rain comes, heat stifles,
unpredictable phenomena
predictions always fail
ON THE MARKET ON THE STOCK EXCHANGE
On the market, on the stock exchange
despair, euphoria... analysts
They only get it right when they get it wrong...!
OVERVIEW OF FAITH
Hanging by a thread
surviving hard times
balancing on a tightrope!
P E T S
House animals
pure, innocent happiness
happiness goes viral with them
HAPPINESS !
When we are lost
the greatest happiness consists
find our way back!
OH IF IT WERE POSSIBLE!
How extraordinary it would be!
how wonderful it would be,
old be young again!
They left as they came
silent, unseen ~
pundits’ forecasts sucked
I hover outside the fringes of a distant crowd
a soft disquiet looming beyond the darkness
the moons of Jupiter sucking me into a shroud.
I choose to be pleasantly placid this moment
my eyes fixed at the faint glow of sunset
I will not be choked up in passions that torment.
Melding into an intimacy with the gathering dusk
I feel a chill leading me on a treacherous path
into a garden teeming with hyacinth and musk.
I fantasize a gnome will appear unpredictably
to make murky forecasts in its nave of shadows -
of a stilted, pained future in a poignant tragedy.
Shifting sounds of ocean waves unsettle me -
although clouds are churning under a windswept sky
I cling to the splendor of a serene life to set me free.
@jjote022624
Freddy Farkle, fumbling forecaster for Forestville,
friggin' fudged Friday forecast....fair?!
first florid felicitous, falling flurries followed,
froze flowers, foiled!
faraway farmhouse, furrowing farmland,
frigid fanny, furious, frustrated,
frumpy, frazzled!
furry forest friends furnished flannel frock,
finding Freddy's fails funny, frivolity,
fortunately frequent fallible forecasts
found Freddy flying faraway,
fallaciously forecasting for fermented folks!
Blushing smiles erase shadowed pasts
Filling hearts with music that lasts
Someday, somewhere, breathless prayers
Comfort hearts and souls He prepares ~
Rousing heaven’s enthusiasts
Dewlike tears, gentle love forecasts
Recalling when we were outcasts
Kindness trembles, she clearly cares
Blushing smiles…
Shyly whispers love that outlasts
Breathless moments, wholehearted blasts
Some have known angels, unawares
Wonderous love that heaven shares
Blue skies, sighs of faith never fasts ~
Blushing smiles….
weather forecasts spoofed
dark storms come and go at whim-
lawns and rainbows smile
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.