A thundering heartbeat
echoes from the garage to
the stadium.
An subterranean rumble ignites
the quiet arena floor,
As radioactive currents course
through the waiting veins,
Unleashing a fierce,
tempestuous wave of
symphonic thunder.
They transform the mundane
into the fiercely monumental,
Weaving unyielding, anthemic
battle cries from raw
vulnerability.
The percussion strikes like a
sudden, electric lightning bolt,
While the vocals soar into the
stratosphere, cloud- split sky,
Challenging the internal,
shadowy demons that haunt the
mind.
Believers rise from ashes of
their broken, fractured paths,
Bound together by a
triumphant, golden thread of
sonic gold.
This is the majestic,
unstoppable roar of modern
giants,
Stamping their timeless,
permanent footprint into
musical history.
I am a kitsune, nine centuries bold, where whispers of thunder and secrets unfold. In the heart of the storm, I dance with the rain, my spirit entwined with the echoes of pain. Beneath ancient trees, my laughter takes flight, weaving through shadows, a flicker of light. I am guardian of realms where the thunder roars, weaving tales of legends, of forgotten shores. With each crack of lightning, my essence ignites, a tempest of wisdom in the deepening nights. I roam through the valleys, where dreams intertwine, a flicker of magic, both yours and divine. In the silence that follows, my stories will thrive, for as long as the storms are, I too shall survive.
Thunderous silence
echoes in my scolded ears
heavy lies the mood
Winner 5th place: X&Y by Seth Pina (3/29/26)
Delightful pulse of lightening and thunder,
These elements, energy empowered,
Evergreen sages transmute old wonder
With silver rain magically showered.
Lightening ignites sparkle in my wide eyes.
Thunder fills my mind with stark remembrance.
Energetic discord strikes undisguised.
Away flows eclectic dissonance!
My praise goes to sunlight in the morning!
My heart rises up to gleeful rapture!
My spirit glides high, dancing and soaring,
In Cosmic realms forever uncaptured!
Roses awaken when Earth greets Sunrise,
But Rose Crystals are cleansed under moonlight!
Let me tell you a tale
of a small boy,
who wanted a gale
and some flashy rain.
A small child, naughty he was,
Never wanted school,so
he sent the Gods and SOS
about some stormy rain.
The Gods red and red again,
They were always kindly
and didn't want to make him in vain,
So they sent some thunderous clouds
The boy was so in glee,
his mother didn't know why
She asked him why he didn't flee,
To the place where was rain
The little brat, happily,
Told her the message,
The mother was awed faintly,
By her son's love for Rain
For Brian Strand's Your Choice R Poetry Contest
30 May 2025
~ ~ ~ dark clouds softly roll, ~ ~ ~
\ /
\ /
\ / then lightning splits the heavens,
V
. . . . . . rain cleanses the world. . . . .
Ebony and ivory soldiers
stand sentinel on checkered plains,
their shadows stretching across the polished wood.
The mind becomes a blade,
thoughts crystallise
in the space between heartbeats.
Each move echoes
like thunder in an empty room,
while fingertips hover over destiny's pieces.
Time dissolves
In the crucible of concentration,
where seconds stretch into infinities.
Silence roars louder,
than any crowd in this arena of intellect,
as kingdoms rise and fall beneath fluorescent stars.
Victory dwells
in the eye of stillness,
where warriors of thought wage their bloodless wars.
sandstorm's sudden roar
calamity's ruthless urge
emptiness devours
hurricane dances
born from a gentle zephyr
timeless symphony
all moves within fire,
swift arrow pierces the soul
yearning for return
whispering waters,
guided by seasons' embrace,
melody of life.
This site is da bomb my haven so to speak
It's where I go to mellow out
Away from the ugly news of the day
That we constantly hear about
Without this site my life would be boring
I'd walk around mumbling away
Oblivious to the big old world passing by
Whatta great way to start the day
So many great people call P-Soup their home
Scattered throughout this big planet
Personalities as varied as the fish in the ocean
So many they run the damn gamut
From witty, to clever intellectual or romantic
We all call it home sweet home
A retreat a getaway from all of life's hassles
A place to let our true hearts roam
So let's hear some of that thunderous applause
Because here's the inside scoop
All of us would probably fade into oblivion
Instead we're just happy as poop
Brave and courageous they know the power of love
Hearts that bleed
Live by the creed of love
Giving their all
Knowing that love is like a tidal wave!
Shadows of comfort sprinkle the faces of those in love
Blades of power hold their mouth
Words of silence can’t escape
The thunderous ploy of the heart!
Love is a courageous journey
It starts at forever and ends at never!
Hearts that bleed are hearts that feed off the weight of love
The sudden shift of emotion illuminates the darkness
The singleness of a passion electrifies the soul
But the cold shift of isolation keeps the mission alive!
The heart bleeds
Feeding off every abnormality and
Revealing the centrality of all hidden thoughts!
Love is a comfort worth exploring
Love is an oddity worth refining
Hearts that bleed are hearts that feed off the weight of love
The sudden shift of emotion clarifies the darkness
The oneness of a passion electrifies the soul
But the cold shift of isolation keeps the mission alive!
Hearts that bleed
Live by the creed of love
Giving their all
Knowing that love is like a tidal wave
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
Hell has opened its mouth and spit forth Apollyon.
A brutal beast wrapped in a cloak of deceit.
A grandiose idealist with evil intention.
A reaper of racism.
A shameless rapist of intellectually rigid minds.
An artful ruler of schism.
He lives out loud in his want for a reign of vicious fascism.
Overshadowing the union of a pleading Nation.
The world is ablaze with fear of his reigning anarchy.
There are dawdling tongues and lament songs for abdication.
The faithful lift their faces to heaven and pray for intervention.
The liberals protest against social and economical injustice.
A group of withering supplication to the heartless.
His world is anchored on filth and ruthlessness.
Like many, I live my substandard life under a thunderous cloud.
Stiff back, head high, strong resistant, and proud.
copyright 2017
Looking At the Light From The Bottom Of The Lake.
Copyright 2017
March 6, 2017 Looking At the Light From The Bottom Of The Lake
There is no more a thunderous voice than the whisper of love!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
25 October 2022
-
As always, I would like to share the honor of POTD with all my good friends,
who have helped me for over one decade now, by visiting and commenting on
my humble poetry. I also thank the officials of the site for their contribution.
God help all of you, my fellow poets.
-
This site is da bomb, my haven so to speak
It's where I go to mellow out
Away from the ugly news of the day
That we constantly hear about
Without this site, my life would be boring
I'd walk around mumbling away
Oblivious to the big old world passing by
Whatta great way to start the day
So many people call The Soup their home
Scattered throughout this big planet
Personalities as varied as the fish in the ocean
So many, they run the damn gamut
From witty, to clever, intellectual or romantic
We all call it home sweet home
A retreat, a getaway from all of life's hassles
A place to let our true hearts roam
So let's hear some of that thunderous applause
Because here's the inside scoop
All of us would probably fade into oblivion
Instead, we're just happy as poop
What if oranges grow in the desert
Or would that be more of a coincidence
What if cactus flower
We're just a desert
Humm!!! Good but with the thorns and thistles wouldn't it hurt
Well I guess I would never know
Because I stubbed my toe
Then I fell in a ditch
Then I got sick
Because of the cumulus cloud
Within it The Thunder Rolls loud
The lightning flashed
As the Thunder crashed
And as it struck the ground
The lightning round
I proceeded to frown
Why? because my nose bleed
And it is is as often as I have said
You can't get oranges from a cactus plants
And does it ever ever rain ...
in the desert
10/31/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
A summer storm has struck upon the stage.
Like clouds, faces in the crowd change to black.
As lightning triggers sudden disengage,
tonight’s entertainment can stay on track.
The wit he’s stored within his mind’s spice rack
can use this summer rain in which to mull.
Dry humor, soaking wet, delivers smack
and thunderous applause says he’s not dull.
This stand-up comic entertains without a lull.
June 20, 2018
a Spencerian stanza
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