Long Thunderbolts Poems
Long Thunderbolts Poems. Below are the most popular long Thunderbolts by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thunderbolts poems by poem length and keyword.
The calm before the storm opened up with fury with unnerving silence, filled the air with almost complete darkness.
A storm crept within, purely focused. It swelled up and draws through an angry filled breath. With a vicious voice, eased back, exploded once and for all with wet droplets of rain.
A wrenching sound with a crack of light and fire lighted up the skies. Orange flickering lights of fire was shaking everything through and through reflecting on the valley.
The silence was interrupted seconds later.
The fury inside continues to form.
It punched a fist again, with a raging crack.
Horrific piercing sounds and bright lights danced, filling the air with a roar of flaming Lions.
Thunder rolled across the sky. It couldn't stop itself, and starts opening the symphony once more. Fueled by adrenaline, thunderbolts of pure terror flashed. Out-of-control slamming and crashing, an awful electric shock waves cracked, plummeted to the ground connecting and sinking into the soaked soil.
A surprisingly calm came over and soothed the storm within, moving on with a view off the top of the trees and blue sky beyond.
The battle was won.
Precious crystal clear rain soaked the life on the ground.
8/12/2016
In a dark sky, an eclectic mix stirs
atmospheric storms and persistent winds.
Corrupting clouds with mottled mist deters
the full force where earth-bound lightening ends.
The raging quarrel within the sky trends
toward an unsettling sunrise that blurs.
Its vibrant color provokes and pretends
in a dark sky, an eclectic mix stirs.
Heaven meets hell in a banter of slurs.
Thunder bolts thrown, as harps make amends.
A cacophony of sound that transfers
atmospheric storms and persistent winds.
Loud blasting burst of screeching crackles tends
to mark the blaring argument that stirs
with sullen seditiousness, and portends
corrupting clouds with mottled mist deters.
Solemn skies with gray, granite clouds ensures
that torrential rains with whirling winds blends
and blurs the power that surely refers
the full force where earth-bound lightening ends.
Then Susanoo changes his mood and mends
the skies together again but confers
with gods and goddesses alike then sends
winds and thunderbolts as his messengers
in a dark sky.
Neither is there any daysman betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both.
Job 9:33 King James Version Bible
JOB
I stink of death and boils.
My wife is left to stir my trouble.
Friends, of late, do suffocate.
Oh Lord, I give you my complaint.
JESUS
Clouds of darkness covet the sky.
Thunderbolts scream from on high.
A perfect man offered up to die.
For now, friends question why.
GOD
Sees that a man is righteous
When a man is covered with his son’s blood
Jesus, divine and man at the same time
Our daysman, stretched out his arms
One hand on God, One on man
10/22/2017
Our first date
to bridge a poker-face divide
conversation with a touch of fantasy
till thunderbolts compose themselves
in questions
"How do you define yourself?"
"What is your idea of beauty?"
"What pushes your boundaries?"
Questions to unearth the enigma
of not knowing
to map the labyrinth
to light the starkly lit palette
obscure
For what is safely hidden can be toxic
Secrets disclosed to set sparse love in motion
sometimes improbable
like catching a fly in flight
Our initial discovery
an excavation
that un-earths a new reality
to weave a narrative
fragmented
Poem composed July 15/21
Thunderbolts split the stormy air.
The campaign for president heats up.
Insults and curses, accusations and lies,
Hate and confusion, poisoned barbs
Aimed at and finding a mark,
Only to be retipped and redirected
Toward the original sender.
Racism, carefully disguised
As safety precautions. For whom?
Religious intolerance in the guise
Again, of our country’s safety,
Deliberately misinterpreting the facts.
Religious zealots posing as victims
So they can self-righteously
Deny others their religious freedom.
Party set against party,
Candidate against candidate,
And people more and more divided.
Whose rights are right, whose are not?
What are rights and what are not?
Deceits and insults the game of the day.
Who can prove the other to have
The most fatally flawed character.
Gone civility - plain and obvious facts
Hidden in a manure pile of lies
Poisoning the air, poisoning the minds
Of those who listen but do not hear,
Of those who see not what is the truth,
But only what they choose to see.
Following the Pied Piper to …….?
*Abraham Lincoln quote
WITH MY FEET ON THE GROUND
With my feet on the ground,
I looked to the stars.
Darkness can steal away your soul.
Like a blood thirsty beast,
It sinks its teeth deep within your throat.
With my feet on the ground,
I looked to the stars.
There was an attempt, once again.
An attempt to steal my treasure chest of happiness
A happiness that I acquired and caressed.
With my feet on the ground
I looked to the stars.
There was a loud start of music.
As loud as thunderbolts, I could not hear.
Could not hear the unkind words of my kindred.
Darkness can steal away your soul.
But you see, my feet are on the ground.
A ground that keeps me from altering.
Unkindness from people, cannot alter my own.
I was taught compassion, I was taught forgiveness.
Thieves can rob you of your happiness.
But you see, with my feet on the ground.
A ground that keeps me from altering.
Thieves never succeed, an attempt cannot alter my happiness.
I was taught happiness from within, I was taught content.
Music can play, roar loud like thunderbolts.
But you see, with my feet soiled to the ground.
A ground that keeps me from altering.
Unkind words cannot trump a kind soul.
I was taught understanding, I was taught endurance.
My mum taught me to forgive, I have experienced a great deal of hurt in my life, by the people I care about the most. They seldom ask for forgiveness. I forgive anyway, it gets weary sometimes but I just forgive which always brings me more happiness. Happiness that I know I never want to compromise for anything in my life, nothing at all.
© Herzel Poshiwa :)
I sing Shahana Bahar, a malody of delight.
It echoed aloud, Marwa, music of sadness-filled plight
I laugh aloud and I hear it back as a scary scream
My gleam of glee turns into hallucinatory dream
Each false virtue that I hate haunts me like a hounds unbound.
Trust and mistrust amalgamate and make meaningless sound.
The impressions I form to attract all, impress no one
Amidst my endless fights, no inner battles I have won.
Efforts that give the illusion of success often fail.
Why does fate prompt me to upset the boat when I still sail?
Convictions are converted into crude catastrophes.
Punctuations of quotations close as apostrophes
With silences of bridge, ledge, and edge, badge, bodge, and budge clash
Amidst pitch dark clouds torches of light as thunderbolts flash
Sounds of church bells peal from graves where tolling knells are hidden.
Though echoes sound true, is disclosure of truth forbidden?
Menacing clouds, with faces black,
fierce thunderbolts that roar and crack.
Strong howling winds that make trees snap,
Wind-driven rain that windows slap.
The storm that fills our hearts with fear,
gives way to skies, surreally clear.
The calm belies the peril posed
by the fierce storm that ‘round me closed.
It makes a fool of frightening fears
While howling winds assailed my ears.
As pranksters’ tricks can make me squeal,
the calm clouds a fear that was real.
The calm that follows a windstorm
Should our impatient hearts transform,
the storms that at times roar and rage
prepare us for our life’s next stage.
But if we do not pass the test,
We sure will miss life’s very best.
Nero the god! I had a dream.
There I was at the foot of Mount Olympus.
Mother was with me as usual.
As we reached a cross-roads, Agrippina said:
"Come Nero, here we turn left" But I said:
"No, mama, 'WE' do not. I'm gonna turn right!"
And that's what I did. She shouted after me:
"Become emperor, Nero, though you slay me".
The path led upwards toward the snowy heights,
past the lush vernal pastures of the lower slopes,
past vineyards and groves of olive trees,
through forests of oaks, birches,
willows, elms, yews and poplars and all holy trees,
past the crags where the chamois chewed stunted grass,
and the last brave wind-blasted pine
tossed and raged in defiance of the elements, I ascended,
till there was no other thing under heaven
but burning, blinding snow,
a conflagration no less fierce than that which now I see.
I looked down at the world of men,
and what should I see but -- ants!
The air was thin and pure - then the prize!
The summit appeared from behind a cloud-rift.
Treacherous thoughts welled up from within me:
"High climbers play with death –
death by freezing, death that lurks
in the shadow of a measureless abyss.
Was I not trespassing on holy ground? ‘
“Remember Icarus, remember Prometheus,"
sighed voices in the wind,
but then a louder voice from within me
bade me fear no counsel fit for the craven.
And so to the summit.
And what should I see when reached the Olympian heights,’
other than .....fierce Jupiter? Mighty Zeus?
I'll tell you what I saw!
There seated on an ivory throne, a frail old man,
whose long white beard fluttered in the wind.
His expression was more torpor than aught else.
That was it! He looked rather like...
some doddering old patriarch
that was Consul before Caesar's time.
As I approached, he tried to look grave and austere,
pathetically shaking his hoary senile head.
His trembling hand reached down –
I saw a quiver full of arrows
and a pile of thunderbolts at his side.’[
Now was my chance!
I seized him by the scruff of the neck,
and flung him down the mountain-side.
The last I saw of him was as he reeled
head over heels into a ravine.
Then I shouted in triumph to the four winds.
"THE OLD GOD IS DEAD.
Now I'm Top Dog. I got de thunderbolts".
Only a dream?
Perhaps. Dreams pass,
but not what they portend.
her eyes are gray, foreboding
reflecting the wrath of Zeus
yet therein lies the charm of Hera
who silences Olympian thunderbolts
she is sharing a tenebrous introspect
the smile withdrawn, judgmental thought
an ego that must be fed, expense of others
aloofness brings happiness no more
i am lost in the beauty of an honest waltz
women addressing their problems
instead of undressing in front of them
we all suffer in being human
but with an honest waltz such as yours
we begin the inward path
realize the injustice we do others
its ultimate expense, our self
we are wisely told never to judge
yet every day we do
and to some extents we must
who shall i call friend
do i devitrify, or dignify humanity
sometimes i wonder why get honest
people love to be honest about faults
most of the time it is yours
truth can be an elusive beast
sheltered within, Medusa's avoiding mirrors
refusing to acknowledge the peccants within
the ones we tend to ignore
dismiss as peccadilloes
i was not fond of reflection myself
those mornings after, mirror of dipsomania
the abusive beast, a life of full moons
it was worth every battle back
sitting here sober, listening to you
Phoenix 94