Rain

How lovely does the rain fall,
as if it's trying to send out a call.
So beautiful as it might seem to be,
sometimes it is not so beautiful to me.
When the lightning cracks abd the wind howls,
that's when you hear a long low growl.
Warnings come about flah floods,
while people try to get home through the muds.
When all you can see is darkness and grey,
it take's the sunshine out of your day.
Then something hit's you that's hard and wet,
and you know that the Heavens just let.
Go of the hail,
and you start to wail.
"Why here, why now,
that one really hurt ow!"
Then somehow as if they heard your plea,
they open the clouds and sunshine rains on me.
Then the lightning stops and the thunders gone,
and all of a sudden I hear John.
"Look at that rainbow, it's as preety as can be,"
now the light rainfall is beautiful to me.

I.
What if time were liquid? Would it be a river, rushing downhill forever from an undefined mountaintop or mythical spring? We would be the debris, the browned evergreen needles and waterlogged twigs, tossed around in the fickle current. What are moments? Are they groups of water molecules that rush along with us? Or are they little marks on the bank that we watch fly by as we are helplessly pulled along by the current, no matter how hard we try to cling to them.

What if there was a rock poking out above the surface of time? Could it stand the relentless rush of time? Would the debris be caught on it, abandoned in a single moment as the other twigs and needles were swept around a bend in time and out of sight? What could that debris do until it was dislodged by the river? Would it think? Would it ever catch up?

Bike
To the playground

Walk
To the middle

Lay
On the structure

Stick
Headphones in your ears

Pass
One to me

Press
In my ear

Listen
To the soundwaves

Dismiss
The beauty

Stop

Wonder
About the world

Think
About the sun

Contemplate
The rain

Remove
Music from aural orifice

Smile
To myself

Remember
The last two years

Growing

Maturing

Becoming
Who we are

Smirk
At life

Know

This is how it should be

Rain is falling down (trochee)
While smiles turn to frowns (iamb)
People seem to drown (trochee)
But I still clown around (iamb)

I haven't decided whether or not this poem is done yet:

Water drips down
Being wrung from
The cottony clouds
Backed by the soft blue
Reflected through the prism
By sunlight

The mulch
And the rocks
Lend their perfume
To the air
Mixing with the rain's
Soap that's been cleaning
The tree leaves

I inhale
Taking in the scents
From the mixing pot
It smells like spring

Rain pouring down from the clouds
But I'm stuck in here
I want to go out and play
Today's not the day

Hydrated drops splashing down
To irrigate ground
How I wish I were outside
I want to mud-slide

Rain is dirt but dirt's not rain
Helps wash away pain
And now I'm going insane
But down pours the rain

Rain rain rain
Ruin all my spring sun fun
Stay inside
Watch the water fall
Pitter patter pitter patter
Can think of millions of things that I’d be doing
Rather than sitting here
Bored out of my mind

The rain falls so quickly
In the darkness of the night.
The darkness of the forest only adds
To the already shadowed earth.
Covered by the onyx clouds.
Nothing will be out tonight,
Not a deer,
Not an owl,
Not even a raccoon
To steal the dazzling yellow dried corncobs hanging from the deck,
Put there for the birds.
They were a very convenient late night snack
For the raccoons,

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes,
Didn't realize it was sunny.
I slipped on my warm green sweater.
Didn't feel the heat.

I waited by the phone, dazed.

My boots were right next to the front door
and my raincoat was on the couch arm.

beeep. Beeep

I rushed out and wrenched open the door
Only to see:
The sun was shining!
My hair flipped to the left!

When you step into the crystal clear puddle

What matters then?

When you step out of the puddle and the car sprays you

What matters then?

When your shoes squish from the water

What matters then?

When your umbrella decides to break in the rain

What matters then?

What happens when you wake up from the dream

What matters then?

Absolutely Nothing

This rain will soon
Wash away all my mistakes
All the things I've done
And I will be gone
The bottom of this cliff
Will be my grave
No one will visit me
But that's how I want it
No one will remember me
And no one will miss me
This relentless rain will
Forever wash away my existance
I've taken too many lives
I just can't stop
So my final crime
Will be taking my own

The poor little horse in the rain…
Horses can get sick,
And they can feel pain.

I wish you were somewhere besides under a tree,
Like in a barn
With your family.

Oh Poor little horse in the rain.
I see you freezing
and I feel your pain.

I want to take you with me
And dry you off
And everyone will see,

That someone loves the poor horse that was in the rain,

The rain is falling today.
It is hardly hitting the window pane.
I am still happy though.
And it is not because I am insane.

It is because of your love.
It can’t be washed away,
By the rain that is falling
So hard today.

The puddles that form,
Could hinder anything,
But your love still comes
And makes my heart ping.

I sat in the silence,
my own peace.
I looked around the field
trying to forget
that time was still passing,
and i couldn't do anything about it.
I was helpless.
I am helpless.
Thinking thoughts of yester year
remembering how i vowed
to never let myself feel alone ever again.
A promise I somehow knew
I couldn't keep.
The rain came down