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
~
- Author: Frank Prem ( Offline)
- Published: January 20th, 2018 01:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Final
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 20
Comments2
Very powerful - This could have been called "Road Rage" as well - I can relate to anger getting out of control until you wish you could get out of it somehow.
It's a bit grumpy isn't it? Intolerance and power, I think, go together.
Powerful write
It's fun to assume the powerful position, once in a while.
This is the last of these. I'll have to pop something else up, next.
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