Frank Prem

way poem #18: in anger

I spoke to the sky

 

I am ANGRY

 

is what I called

 

I am ANGRY

 

I shouted
from my heart

 

in every inflection
I placed rage

 

stamped my feet
hard
upon the ground

 

waved
both my fists
at the air
clenched
as hard as I
could hold them

 

OH OH
OH
how I am ANGRY

 

I am so angry

 

hear ME placid sky

 

is what I raged

 

~

 

in the corner of the sky
grew one grey tendril

 

curled upon itself
it boiled
in a small mist
kind of way

 

and grew

 

it writhed

 

it formed a bank
of cloud

 

grey grey
grew into a sky
that was placid
no more

 

it growled
grumbled

 

lightning flew
from out of the storm
that roared now
and 

 

RA-RA-RA-RA-RA

 

even the stars had fled

 

even the moon

 

only the sun remained
as black as the bright

 

the sun shone
and darkness
was its preferred
colour now

 

~

 

I
I stood under a storm
afraid of the light spears
afraid of the roar
unable to stand
unaided

 

I
I looked at the maelstrom
and I
felt
gradually
a fear that flowed my way
projected by thunder
illumined by the break up
of old light

 

and I knew
I
had done this thing

 

~