deb leave light
to play two
fingers on
her still arm
skiblu i love them. violent and uncontrollable whether it's from a person or from the whether.
either way you can end up hurt.
Special K We looked up into the unobscured sky as the clouds rolled slowly in. To help pass the time as we waited for the storm, he recited for me the names of the plants in his garden, pausing before each pot and trellis, taking an occasional leaf or bud in his hand and holding it so I might see.

"See what this one has done to my torch?" He picked at a lush, eager vine that had reduced a bamboo garden torch to nothing more than an armature.

"That looks like a cucumber vine," I said, considering the broad, flat leaves.

"No," he corrected, "it's a Crawling Something-or-other." He actually said the name, but I can't recall what it was. The names of plants are things I cannot learn. Their nomenclature goes in one ear, out the other.

"And this," he continued, moving to a bush that dripped with clumpy, scarlet blooms, "is an African Whatever-it-is." Again, the name he used escapes me. I told him it looked like a Bleeding Heart plant, or something like that, as I strained to recall any scrap of memory from my mother's own half-hearted flowerbeds. "Oh no," he smiled, "but I've got one of those right over there!" He pointed to the bed behind him.

"And that there is an Orchid – sorry, they're done blooming for the year – oh, and those are my Bromeliads." That name I remembered. Bromeliad. My mother grew those; spiny little landlocked urchins, they poke from the balconies of terra cotta strawberry pots. Bromeliad. I said the word to myself once or twice so I would not forget.

He thinks I am smarter than he is. I am not.

He apologizes for the fact that he doesn't read as much as I do. "People seem to think I'm smart or something," he said. "I don't know why they think that, 'cause I'm not."

But he's wrong. He knows about Bromeliads, and Orchids, and Creeping Whatevers that droop with the weight of their own heartbreaking blooms. He knows when to plant, when to water, when to feed; he can take a clipping and nurture it with his own two hands, coaxing from twigs a thriving vine, with softball-sized trumpets of blinding pink flowers to wind around his front door.

This awkward man in silly padded slippers, this struggling, searching kid... he attends to things. He cares for them, helps them grow. That's a kind and patient intelligence I have never had.

And I thought to myself, standing there amidst all that displaced tropicalia, that I would willingly trade my meagre little brain, just to be a flower.
enriquecito there was a coming together, a nova, nothing but kindness and tenderness. "nothing can ever go wrong," she said, as my soul-mate from lives long past. and now a percussive storm now gives the skies a cool so deep that even the stars become frozen. 010804
hm. Rain on my heart,
Thunder in my head.
Lightning shatters my soul,
Strikes my heart
And Electrifies me.
I'm filled with pain
And misery inside.
I have nothing to give,
Nothing to offer.
I feel like I'm nothing.
All my happiness
Is washed away
By this storm.
Whenever sunshine peaks,
Another storm begins.
There is no end.
morgan it's the rain that i hear coming
not a stranger, not a ghost
it's the quiet of a storm approaching that i fear the most
lizard When I think of storms, I imagine the halloween night standing under the safety of alison's doorway, my hand streatched out to the hail, the size of golfballs. 020409
kx21 The Spice of Butterfly_effect:-

A mote of dust can generate a Big_bang in the Cosmos...
kerry lying here under a storm
with the sky's belly rumbling
and i am waiting for your call.
and i am wishing i were nocturnal
so i could dance during the thunder
and be in the dark.
so i open the curtains to see the trees
sway against flickering skies
and the whole time,
last night's dream is repeating
in my head and of course,
the resonating sadness felt this morning
when i woke up.
why does his face haunt me?
imagine him kissing me
as one would eat a peach
and my knees turn to quivering
my brain to pills
falling out my ears.
he covers my eyes in glass and
frosts the world.
his feet in sandals,
his hands and his fingers splayed
and spread apart....
coats my room in tears.
a niagara falls streaming down
the inside of my ribs.
so i turn on the stereo to tune myself out,
i hear those drums and my skin
dries up and i collapse all over again.
angie Interesting how we both have problems going on in our families at the same time. We are both worried about different things, concerned for different reasons. But we are both there to help eachother through all of this...possibly we understand even more because we are both going through struggles...even though they are different struggles. I am here for you.
I am here for your sister. Thank you for being here for me and my family.
crying now oh my god this is so beautiful! 030824
oldephebe *oldephebe is trying to hold in the wet
trying not to muse to heavily upon these glorious words - glorious souls

my tongue is flailing impotently in it's cage trying to summon the verbiage to say..that was so fucking beautiful, quixotic, feel like a pining kid again reading these words - search me out - stamp down the shout freeeze the boys swelled contumelious heart - there in the frame and do not let the time be born anew - do not let me feel these ostinato bass kicks in the ass reverberations - this was incredible

take the rhyme, seperate it from it's meter and verse - god those echoes of first love blooming - kind of hard to take
this was!

unhinged you know you're down when
you count the friends you have but
you only use one hand honey
it finally hit your face
you're feeling mighty low
just slightly out of place
your dreams have drowned again
because you never learned to swim
older but no better

frank silver, ivet

if only the album would come out, then i could be eight hours away curled up in a ball on the floor crying instead of in the same town curled up in ball on the floor crying. i miss my frank. terribly.
justcurious what about storm? 031127
jesse and lani windy today 031204
lani and jesse dang kinda rainy too 031204
imaskitzo I let it rain on me 040323
the plan was to stay until the storm cleared, but what happens if the storm doesn't clear?

what happens now that the storm has gotten worse?

no dont stay. its no longer warm here.
Just a thought Thunder shatters my conciousness
While lighning leaps across the sky like a angy stallion.
Rain smashes the waves angering the ocean making it swell.
Rivers scream in their banks overflowing.
Plants open and beg the sky to never stop.

And i stand amongst it all staring deerlike into the heavens feeling pure power.
x twisted x Since you’ve gone and left me, there’s been so little beauty, but I know I saw it clearly through your eyes.

Now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place.

Here inside I have few things that will console.

And when I try to hear your voice above the storms of life,

Then I remember, all the things that I was told.

I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me, to see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
pete soon after the song ends it begins again. holding the tension and the heat, humidity pouring in, sweat drawn from skin, the clouds slowly turn, opening in their desired pain

linear causeways beneath the sun-shine's guard, forcing even a silent night into the open.

the wind picks up,
the world exhales,
the river breeze tosses her hair,
as the bus blows by,
leaving her dry amid the storm,
silently offering faith
the awful truth well the wind is picking up
as the sky it starts to glow
backlit like a movie set
the clouds begin to roll.

the thunder well it claps
its hands just like applause
louder than any audience
you've ever heard before.

the shutters on the windows are fluttering
and the windows on the house well they ain't shuttering
inside in my big bed i am shivering
this house is so empty when i am alone.
this house is so empty - it isn't a home
nom it's suddenly getting cold 061029
does it ease the pain? The heavens will open and from the clouds will storm forth my unabated anger. Roaring and flashing and bringing devastation upon the earth and down upon you. That stupid balding head and hairy body will be slowly and agonisingly drowned amid the asphyxiating hot gases and will drift to the ends of the sea to be consumed in small pieces by bottom feeders. You will die and all living memory of you will be erased from all who have ever stood in your presence, all those who you never really cared about beyond your own selfish ambitions.

Fucking perfect storm.
a ghost when looking at the damage you once scoffed not understanding how much had changed

you felt a fool

and now many years later i still pick up those broken pieces
trying to breathe new life to the fires

still sitting in awe
still uncomprehending the extent of it all
unhinged still one of my favorite ivet songs

storms here are different
calmer somehow
what's it to you?
who go