Go West, Old Man – #poetry – #JuneWriting

29 Saturday Jun 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in June Writing, Poetry

Tags

#JuneWriting, #poetry, #poetrycommunity, dorindaduclos.com, Night Owl Poetry, north, old man, poems, storm, west, writing, writing prompt

He would never listen to anyone,

Did whatever he wanted to do;

When trying to talk sense into him,

He would always misconstrue.

The plans clearly said go north,

He insisted he had to go west.

No one ever heard from him again,

Surely, this was his dying quest.

Folks found an old town one day,

Twas a store, with a grave marker;

An eerie sense came over them,

And the skies, above, grew darker.

See, legend has it, the old man died,

In a saddened state, of disaffection.

But truth be told, we all know why,

He could never follow directions!

Every summer, a storm rages on,

Starting from the north, no jest;

Travels along the old man’s house,

Then passes by it, heading west.

June Writing Prompt – The directions said to go north, but he headed west – Day 29/30

Much Ado About Everything – #MayWriting – #poetry – #Cinquain

28 Tuesday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Cinquain, May Writing, Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

#MayWriting, #poetry, clouds, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, dorindaduclos.com, face, face in the clouds, grumbles, Night Owl Poetry, poems, rain, storm, thunder, writing, writing prompt

Our lives

Constant battles

In states of confusion

Much ado about everything

For naught

May Writing Prompts – Much Ado About Everything – Day 28/31

Cloudy With a Chance of Grumbles – #MayWriting – #poetry

27 Monday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in May Writing, Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

#MayWriting, #poetry, clouds, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, dorindaduclos.com, face, face in the clouds, grumbles, Night Owl Poetry, poems, rain, storm, thunder, writing, writing prompt

I caught him looking down at me
Face in a frown, not happy to be
Up in the sky, I could clearly see
Something was coming, no mystery

Where once it was blue, now it was gray
What happened to my nice, sunny day?
Who sent dark clouds, over this way?
I wish the nice weather was here to stay

All of a sudden, the clouds started to tumble
Off in the distance, I heard something rumble
I’m pretty sure I heard someone else mumble
It’s cloudy, my dear, with a chance of grumbles

Sure enough, there he was, still looking down
Furrowed eyebrows, face remained in a frown
Started to think, he looked more like a clown
Realized, in his rain, I could possibly drown!

With a wave of my hand, I bid him goodbye
Slammed the door shut, and let out a sigh
I didn’t want him to find me, though he did try
It was then, I noticed, he had started to cry…

May Writing Prompts – Cloudy With a Chance of Grumbles – Day 27/31

As if the Clouds were never – #freeverse #poetry

23 Thursday May 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in free verse, Poetry

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

#freeverse, #poetry, clouds, dorindaduclos.com, mourning, Night Owl Poetry, poems, rain, sorrow, souls, storm, writing

There’s a stillness, a calm, surrounding night

In the air, you can smell, the scent of raindrops

Not yet formed, lingering quietly nearby

Little by little, the skies open, into silent tears

Shedding the pain, of a million crying spirits

Mourning, for the ones, who cannot mourn

Embracing the sorrow, as if it was their own

Gently washing away, the sins of the Earth

Silently cleansing each eternal soul

Then vanishing….as if the clouds were never

The Calm and the Storm ~ A Story – #creativewriting

15 Monday Apr 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in creative writing, My Thoughts

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

beauty, cleansing, clouds, darkness, dorindaduclos.com, freedom, light, lightning, night, Night Owl Poetry, rain, storm, thunder, thunderstorm, writing

I wrote this during a thunderstorm and some wicked weather in NJ. The thing is, I really wrote about me. Lately my life has been a storm, but I am finally finding the calm…

After midnight, the sounds of the house change. The only thing I hear is coming from outside. The patter of rain against the window and an occasional thunder clap disturbs the silence. I drink it all in, because this is what I love, the calm and the storm, together. The wind is whipping, making the attic fan cover flap. It’s as if someone is knocking to come inside, to get out of the storm, but not me, no, not me.

I want to be out in the rain, letting it soak me, letting it wash away the pain and the sorrow, the tears that join with it, unseen, but felt, like a burning against the cool of the subtle drops. My thirst is quenched, my soul at peace, my being, more understanding, of the power instilled in the heavens, I sigh. A deep and cleansing breath, the air in my lungs escaping into the night, as one with the wind. Thoughts, no longer nagging, weighing me down, are taken and dispelled into the night.

Flashes of light illuminate the darkness in which I stand, drawing me closer, relieving the doubts. I am finally sated, knowing in the darkest night or the harrowing storm, I will always be drawn to the light.