Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Weather

   

“Who cares about the clouds when we are together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.”— Dale Evans

SOURCE

“Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative.”— Oscar Wilde

    Midweek Motif ~ Weather

In spite of Wilde’s critical observations about some people we are to talk of Weather today. And that too as imaginative poets.

Weather phenomena have become common topics of conversations worldwide, as humans have altered their environment and much damaged their relationship with nature.

Very recently, having gone without a single drop of rain for about 200 days at a stretch Chennai finally got a little rain and way too little for a city experiencing its worst water crisis in 30 years.

Let’s see what face of weather peeps in your lines: merciful, catastrophic or metaphoric.

A few poems to share with you:

Fair Weather

by Dorothy Parker

This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
A marked and measured line, one after one.
This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves
Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.

So let a love beat over me again,
Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;
Sudden and terrible to rise and wane;
Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide
That casts upon the heart, as it recedes,
Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds. 

A Process In The Weather Of The Heart

by Dylan Thomas

A process in the weather of the heart
Turns damp to dry; the golden shot
Storms in the freezing tomb.
A weather in the quarter of the veins
Turns night to day; blood in their suns
Lights up the living worm.

A process in the eye forewarns
The bones of blindness; and the womb
Drives in a death as life leaks out.

A darkness in the weather of the eye
Is half its light; the fathomed sea
Breaks on unangled land.
The seed that makes a forest of the loin
Forks half its fruit; and half drops down,
Slow in a sleeping wind.

A weather in the flesh and bone
Is damp and dry; the quick and dead
Move like two ghosts before the eye.

A process in the weather of the world
Turns ghost to ghost; each mothered child
Sits in their double shade.
A process blows the moon into the sun,
Pulls down the shabby curtains of the skin;
And the heart gives up its dead. 

Here is a link to a fun poem:

Problems With Hurricanes by Victor Hernández Cruz

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—

(Next week Sanaa’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Perfume)