Archives for posts with tag: weather

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WINDING WITHIN
by Shreyas Gokhale

The sky was dark with clouds of mourning shades
The rolling thunder, as lightning invades.

The thunderstorm was storming upside down,
On earth, the fiery gale did seem to frown.

The trees were trembling, swinging flowers and grass
The birds and beasts were bolting through vistas.

A shower of rains had chilled the warmth of noon
The bamboos played enchanting mystery tune.

In such a vehement weather, no one near
I closed my eyes and Oh! I found you dear!

ART: “Sudden Storm” by Utagawa Hiroshige (1797-1858)

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: The poem describes the scene of a violent rainstorm and the images of the things around. The poet experiences a fiery weather outside and a tumultuous behaviour of all the creatures because of it. In such a scenario when he closes his eyes and looks into his own self, he finds the ultimate solace and the existence of someone divine and dearly in it.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Shreyas Gokhale is currently pursuing his Bachelor’s degree in Computer Science and Engineering from Jabalpur Engineering College in India. He is also serving as a writer at Keynotes Poets and Writers, Sacramento, California. He also has written several works in Indian languages, including Hindi, Sanskrit, and Marathi. A collection of his Sanskrit verses was published recently in an Indian spiritual magazine, Atmotthaan.

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April Showers Bring May Flowers
by Karen Chappell

April showers bring May flowers,
That is what they say.
But if all the showers turned to flowers,
We’d have quite a colourful day!

There’d be bluebells and cockleshells,
Tulips red and green,
Daffodils and Chinese squill,
The brightest you’ve ever seen.

You’d see tiger lilies and water lilies,
Carnations pink and blue,
Forget-me-not and small sundrop
Glistening with the dew.

We’d have fireweed and milkweed
And many more different flowers.
Mexican star and shooting star,
Falling in the showers.

And if all the showers turned to flowers
On that rainy April day,
Would all the flowers turn to showers
In the sunny month of May?

IMAGE: “Spring Flowers” by Tom Gari Gallery-Three Photography. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

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APRIL SNOW 
by Matthew Zapruder

Today in El Paso all the planes are asleep on the runway. The world
is in a delay. All the political consultants drinking whiskey keep
their heads down, lifting them only to look at the beautiful scarred
waitress who wears typewriter keys as a necklace. They jingle
when she brings them drinks. Outside the giant plate glass windows
the planes are completely covered in snow, it piles up on the wings.
I feel like a mountain of cell phone chargers. Each of the various
faiths of our various fathers keeps us only partly protected. I don’t
want to talk on the phone to an angel. At night before I go to sleep
I am already dreaming. Of coffee, of ancient generals, of the faces
of statues each of which has the eternal expression of one of my feelings.
I examine my feelings without feeling anything. I ride my blue bike
on the edge of the desert. I am president of this glass of water.

SOURCE: “April Snow” appears in Matthew Zapruder’s collection Come on All You Ghosts. (Copper Canyon Press, 2010), available at Amazon.com.

IMAGE: “Snowflakes and Sakura Blossoms,” available free at this link.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Matthew Zapruder is the author of several collections of poetry, including Come On All You Ghosts (2010), The Pajamaist (2006), and American Linden (2002). With Brian Henry, Zapruder co-founded Verse Press, which later became Wave Books. As an editor for Wave Books, Zapruder co-edited, with Joshua Beckman, the political poetry anthology State of the Union: 50 Political Poems (2008). His own poems have been included in the anthologies Best American Poetry (2009), Third Rail: The Poetry of Rock and Roll (2007), and Legitimate Dangers: American Poets of the New Century (2006), as well as Poets on Teaching: A Sourcebook (2010). Zapruder’s honors include a Lannan Literary Fellowship and a 2008 May Sarton Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. He has taught at the New School; the University of California Riverside, Palm Desert; and the University of Massachusetts, Amherst’s Juniper Summer Writing Institute. He lives in San Francisco, where he is also a guitarist in the rock band The Figments.

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WIND AND WATER AND STONE
by Octavio Paz

The water hollowed the stone,

the wind dispersed the water,

the stone stopped the wind.

Water and wind and stone.


 
The wind sculpted the stone,

the stone is a cup of water,

The water runs off and is wind.

Stone and wind and water.


 
The wind sings in its turnings,

the water murmurs as it goes,

the motionless stone is quiet.

Wind and water and stone.


 
One is the other and is neither:

among their empty names

they pass and disappear,

water and stone and wind.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Octavio Paz Lozano (1914–1998) was a Mexican writer, poet, and diplomat, and the winner of the 1990 Nobel Prize for Literature. (Read more at wikipedia.org.)

PHOTO: “Water & Stone” by Samuel Collazo, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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THE AERODYNAMICS
by Rick Bursky

The night she walked to the house
she held a string; on the other end,
fifty-three feet in the air, a kite.
Wind provided the aerodynamics.
Does every collaboration
need to be explained?
She tied the string to the mailbox
left the kite to float until morning.
Every night this happens.
She sleeps, I listen, darkness
slides through us both.
 
The next morning
the string still curved into the sky
but the kite was gone.
This was the morning newspapers announced
the Mona Lisa was stolen.
This was the morning
it snowed in Los Angeles,
the morning I wore gloves
to pull from the sky
fifty-three feet of frozen string. 

PHOTO: “Mona Lisa Kite” by Tasmin Brown, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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WHO HAS SEEN THE WIND
by Christina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.

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WIND ON THE HILL
by A.A. Milne

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alan Alexander Milne (1882–1956) was an English author, best known for his books about the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh and for his children’s poems. (Read more at wikipedia.org.)

ILLUSTRATION: “Girl with Kite” by Nancy Crandall (mixed media: acrylic on 16×20 Canvas; kite created from paper cut into triangles, yarn as string and cut bows glued to string), ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Inspired by street artist Banksy and his artwork of a girl with a balloon.

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UNUSUALLY WARM MARCH DAY, LEADING TO STORMS
By Francesca Abbate 

Everything is half here,
like the marble head
of the Roman emperor
and the lean torso
of his favorite.
The way the funnel cloud
which doesn’t seem
to touch ground does—
flips a few cars, a semi—
we learn to walk miles
above our bodies.
The pig farms dissolve,
then the small hills.
As in dreams fraught
with irrevocable gestures,
the ruined set seems larger,
a charred palace the gaze
tunnels through
and through. How well
we remember the stage—
the actors gliding about
like petite sails, the balustrade
cooling our palms.
Not wings or singing,
but a darkness fast as blood.
It ended at our fingertips:
the fence gave way
to the forest.
The world began.

SOURCE: Poetry (March 2002).

PHOTO: “Sentinel” by Tom Biegalski. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Francesca Abbate earned a BA at Beloit College, an MFA at the University of Montana, and a PhD at the University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee. Her poems have appeared in Field, the Iowa Review, The Journal, and elsewhere. Her honors include the William Harrold Memorial Award. A former poetry editor for the Cream City Review, Abbate is an assistant professor of English at Beloit College.

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WINDY NIGHTS
by Robert Louis Stevenson

Whenever the moon and stars are set,
            Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
            A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?
 
Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
            And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
            By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again. 

PAINTING: “Windy Night” by Marilyn Jacobson, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

NOTE: A fascinating project about Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894) is currently in the works — a film about his life in San Francisco, with a screenplay by G.E. Gallas. Find out more at gegallas.wordpress.com.

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THE CATS WILL KNOW
by Cesare Pavese
Translated by Geoffrey Brock

Rain will fall again
on your smooth pavement,
a light rain like
a breath or a step.
The breeze and the dawn
will flourish again
when you return,
as if beneath your step.
Between flowers and sills
the cats will know.
 
There will be other days,
there will be other voices.
You will smile alone.
The cats will know.
You will hear words
old and spent and useless
like costumes left over
from yesterday’s parties.
 
You too will make gestures.
You’ll answer with words—
face of springtime,
you too will make gestures.
 
The cats will know,
face of springtime;
and the light rain
and the hyacinth dawn
that wrench the heart of him
who hopes no more for you—
they are the sad smile
you smile by yourself.
 
There will be other days,
other voices and renewals.
Face of springtime,
we will suffer at daybreak.
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“The Cats Will Know” appears in Cesare Pavese’s collection Disaffections: Complete Poems 1930-1950 (Copper Canyon Press, 2002).

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Cesare Pavese (1908 –1950) was an Italian poet, novelist, literary critic and translator. In his home country, he is widely considered among the major authors of the 20th century. (Source: wikipedia.org.)