Meteorology Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Flood fury in Himalayan Kingdom

A stalled monsoon trough over central Nepal
caused continuous torrential heavy rainfall
Slopes pushed up moisture from the Bay of Bengal
The catastrophe was looming large to befall.

Sudden breach of a moraine dam
Triggered Glacial Lake outburst floods
A surge of water and debris devastates 
downstream, catching communities off guard.

Landslides continued to collapse slopes,
forming temporary dams that later burst
Steep valleys amplified runoff swift and fast
Flood of fury of all time unleashed the worst.  

A compound climate disaster of twin sciences
Meteorology and geology to decipher in depth
monsoon extremes, unstable glaciers, terrain hazards
Perished hundreds of lives and left many homeless.

Sparse sensors, lack of predictive models a curse
Warrant real time glacial monitoring at source
With closely spaced weather station networks
And cross border early warning systems

                …….Narayan Gadagkar

Premium Member SUNNY INTERVALS-:-

SUNNY INTERVALS-:-
filtering
 illumination
occurrence

sunbeams
aureate
into INTERMITTENT BRIGHT SPELLS 
cast
 atmosphere
piercings 

periodical
meteorology 
of SUNBURSTING PEEKABOO’S   
momentarily 
 komorebi 
inexorability

brilliantly 
suspended

Premium Member Brilliant Civil Engineer

builder of….
garabit viaduct
eiffel tower
consultant to statue of liberty
brilliant civil engineer Gustave Eiffel
contributed to all three
researched meteorology and aerodynamics
made major contributions to both fields


Spiritual Meteorology

Every day will be 
sunny day, if we carry
the memory of joy
inside ...
There will never be
sad day for who
is superior to cold
of winter ...
There will never be heat
excessive for those
cultivate the soul
in freshness ...
The rain won't bathe
the one who protects
his spirit ...
Hot days,
cold nights, storms
are severe weather
of nature, are states
of time ... not states
of mind that if well
  process ..!

Meteorology

Metrology 

The weather plays a big part in me
When the sunshine and the wind is calm
I feel the lightness of being.
When storm blows and dark clouds  
My mind gets dark, and I think of suicide
However, I like to watch thunder and lightning
stay on the terrace and sing
“Hit me with your rhythmed stick” a bit of a song
I remember.
A full moon is depressing it is as it is trying to lure
me into the ocean it is the silvery glittering 
that attracts me to do a daring thing like swimming
with wales or having fun with dolphins.

Premium Member Climate Change Challenge

Climate change midst creation* glorious ... now indeed obvious.

Learn to deal with it, being weather-anxious

Inspire the meteorology-curious 

Make yourself environmentally conscious

Affirm with warning that Earth is verily precious… 

Take care of it today against the waste-notorious  

Especially protecting against planet that's obnoxious!

*Romans 8:22 For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. 

February 2, 2019
Edited on February 13, 2022

Acrostic in Didactic form


Starry Night Or Sorry Chennaite

The times twist and rise like rare tornadoes 
Timelines elsewhere just turn into homilies
And the stars-turned-hearts are  bleeding blues
The happenstance-moon for once is not made
of light to light up our home CFL’s
The rain gods do not drop water bottles
to the marooned; or the air, mantras, to reverse
Rigor mortis. The sky, hawker of visuals,
implores blind pathways to unchoke themselves.
I bide time in my twelfth floor Himalayas.
Kedar’s water demons come calling,
metamorphosed into meteorology,
dunking Chennai’s life in tears where float bloated
the arid wits of the metro’s whirlpool gods.

Note: Based on a Van Gogh painting 'Starry night', which struck a chord in me during the  Chennai floods of 2015.

Rain

Held by a dungeon of torrential rain
It resounded like a quarrel outside
It was an argle-bargle of earth, rain and wind
It blew patterns of a boustrophedon
Being cantankerous from the brouhaha 
I took my bumbershoot to the door
The umbrella became discombobulated 
The nonsensical wind blew it inside out
A melee of rain furbellfwed my face
A gardylool hadn’t been announced 
Thus a television gonzo weather reporter
A nincompoop on the matters of meteorology 
And I, a smell fungus, thought, no sun would shine
But, somewhere near, I heard a turdiform, "A Lark?"
To my amazement a vomiter shown from above
The Earth smelled dank mud, spores and green grass
It was petrichor to a doubting Thomas 
Was I to trust the rays and Lark?
But, the smell of must from the downpour ~
Meh, on the other hand, gloom and doom
Have always been, my very best friend

6/6/16 

Note: real words, check them out: @ http://www.alphadictionary.com/articles/100_funniest_words.html

Summation

What you add up to may be less,
Than what’s inside and unseen, 
But your behaviour will determine, 
Happiness by where you've been. 

Our processes can be perceived, 
By family members or role-models, 
Maybe hierarchically by meaning, 
But definitely by our rationals.

You can get real with them easily, 
Or be as complex as meteorology,
Make a point or sensible relation,
To demand a finite sociology. 

When there’s a series of events, 
That diverge in extrapolation, 
You can associate with friends, 
In commutative permutation. 

They mean absolute convergence, 
Rhyme with you and find time, 
For an ellipsis you’ve allowed, 
Which you’d like objectified fine.

You won’t falter with summation, 
It is inductively correct by step, 
Your base won’t make you a case, 
‘Cos your hypothesis will schlep.

Weatherman

WEATHERMAN

before declaring a major
he studied bomb making
with a beautiful girl
who wore tight bell-bottom jeans
and assured him she knew 
what she was doing.  SDS or 
Weatherman Underground
he never knew, but some time
near the end of the decade
she disappeared after informing
him he’d never get the knack
of handling explosives
with the respect
they deserved.
he went back to his structured
classes, studied meteorology
and became a local celebrity
by predicting exactly
which way the wind
would blow.
he liked to imagine
she’d be proud
of his skills in forecasting
unpredictable phenomenon.  
when he thinks
about  those college years,
the long-haired girl bent
over dynamite
in too tight jeans
instructing him 
in the proper use of fuses
(in too tight jeans),

he never once got it right.

Copyrighted
June 28, 2011
Jim Brewer

Premium Member Meteorology 101

My whole life is like a Hurricane.
Never quiet.
Never mundane.

Endless images blow through my mind.
Thoughts rain down
upon my ears...

And then its all over.

 
Copyright Christine A Kysely November 14, 2010

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved

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