Rumble, rumble, the tumble of the rumbles, come
As she fills her pockets with rainbows, and lightning bolts.
Cutting her fingers on shards of electricity, she tries to stop
The weakening of the seams on the coat of the dreams.
Tumble and tumble head full of promises, rumble on
In the search for a lining, silver in nature
To plaster the holes of her memory and the hemorrhaging
Of her hands in the coat of the dreams.
Stumble and stammer and stumble some more
Hiding from the lightening, frightened inside
Fingers bloodied and chard from proximity
Hidden deep in the coat of the dreams.
Rumble and rumble the storms have been sated
Hued lights and flashes seep from the folds
She palms up her hands and wonders did it happen
Or did the seams finally split on the coat of the dreams.
Author's Notes/Comments:
Did love happen. Did i miss it? I heard the rumble of the distant thunder and started to write. It's not about him, but it is about him. Its not about us, but it is about us. Its just some words arranged on a page very nice. Yea They can't always be about him...but they are. I want to offer this my line by line explanation
Storm
Rumble, rumble, the tumble of the rumbles, come Atmosphere that produces lightning and rainbows, someone’s favorite weather
As she fills her pockets with rainbows, and lightning bolts. The good and bad you speak of but really just provisions
Cutting her fingers on shards of electricity, she tries to stop Buts she finds it’s not the good thing she thought
The weakening of the seams on the coat of the dreams. But destroys the very thing she wants to preserve
Tumble and tumble head full of promises, rumble on The dream made promises (not personal here)
In the search for a lining, silver in nature With the coat falling apart it needs reinforcing, find a sappy silver lining
To plaster in the holes of her memory wall and the hemorrhaging I was thinking of, Shakespears Julius Ceaserf grinding the bones to make clay for the hole but also of old fashioned plaster gauze tape
Of her hands inserted in the coat of the dreams. Stemming the Bleeding hands
Stumble and stammer and stumble some more It just gets ugly here
Hiding from the lightning, frightened inside and uglier
Fingers bloodied and chard from proximity truly grotesque
Hidden deep in the coat of the dreams. Hidden like abuse is hidden in the dream’s coat
Rumble and rumble the storms have been sated It passes or is sated sometimes you think did that really happen
Hued lights and flashes seep from the folds Like a spent lover or unrequited love the rainbow drains out and the lightning still flashing
She palms up her hands and wonders did it happen he pulls out her hands (unscarred) in disbelief
Or did the seams finally split on the coat of the dreams. The dream is pulled from her like a tablecloth trick.
Lightning
strikes! wonderful romantic write!
If it is and you feel it, it tumbled rumbled onto the page for all that read it to also enjoy...I just did!
hugs
Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....
Words
Romantic? only thing romantic
Romantic? only thing romantic is the word sated. Not to critic your critic lol. It's an exercise in the raw feelings of dreams and hope tearing me apart when the storm of love rumbles through leaving me bloodied and scared, and confused. i picture a woman in the sky like a star constellation gathering lightening bolts and rainbow colors into her oversized men's coat. With it's loose belt and floppy labels, she ambles across the horizon like a cautionary tale from American Indian folk lore. Everything falls apart the energy and colors she gather seep away and rip her dreams of the man from her body.
Thanks Ckk, didn't know I had that all hidden inside.
and that's a lot of stuff to bear, so sorry!
I guess I perceived it as the reader differently than you as writer meant these fine words.
hugs! sorry,...
Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....
Words
I'm glad you did
i like you're interpretation. Better for the soul.