A Billion Raindrops

A billion raindrops

fall like all the promises

you forgot you made,

cold, tired, soaked to my bones

I seek trumpets in the storm.

Paper Towers

Lured

They wait

As lies fold

Up a fortress

Of paper towels

To fight the furling rain,

Gusting like old promises

To race the edge of reasoning,

We are the blurring syntax written,

Ruched towers tear the torrents beginning.

Antonia Sara Zenkevitch

#FreeForm Friday Round up and Prompt

  Hello all, Below is the wonderful round-up of last week’s #FreeFormFriday prompt, exploring the art of free form and combined form. Many thanks to contributors. Apologies for being slightly delayed today, life overtook events. From now on I’ll be running this fortnightly. If you would like to join in I’d love to hear from…

Signals

I love the rain spiral

senses encompassing animation,

satellite clouds, and clouds

displayed in white

in grey telemetry, 

You love, the soft rain at night,

cold and warmth, tickle soft matter,

the interplay between pressure,

a means of guiding

receptors

placed in the injured part,

in this work, we fabricate one

love the just, visible,

forecast invisible intensity

from sunset to sunrise,

both play a role,

signals traveling

a spinal radar,

ignoring the pain

we love for the last hour,

signals from the skin;

low-symmetry particles 

with shapes, spirals,

spirals, spirals,

yellow altitudes,

fluid, few to overcast

blue, blue, blue

gusts are green,

you, love,

the spiral …

To Thrive

the circus

of would-bes and was

held within

hushed chorus

spilling into each other

in needed trust, begin,