Black Poetry : The Nature of Things

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by baller, Jul 9, 2015.

  1. baller

    baller Well-Known Member MEMBER

    Jan 28, 2001
    Likes Received:
    the near north
    The Nature of Things

    A surreal calm settled over our home
    Not a branch did stir
    Not an animal did roam

    The skies grew dark
    The clouds; grim

    Cloud-covered sunlight
    Had the outdoors dim

    The quiet was stifling
    But it didn’t last long
    Raindrops on the windows
    Played the drummer’s song

    Then came a howling
    As wind speeds grew

    Branches and limbs
    Danced to winds and rains, too

    I looked out the window
    To see what I could see

    There…in the sky
    Above a line of oak trees

    Swirling winds
    Took a funnel-like shape

    Leaves and branches flying
    Limbs began to break

    “In the basement…get in the basement,”
    I screamed from the window

    In a flurry of ***** and elbows
    To the basement, we did go

    Huddled in a corner
    In the basement. In the dark

    We listened without words
    Over the beating of our hearts

    A roaring emerged
    Like the sound of a train
    And trembles
    House covered in rain
    And quaking
    Things ripping apart
    ‘til quiet resumed
    As it had, from the start

    In the midst of peace
    Tried to emerge from our hiding
    Bones shaking but unbroken
    Nerves frazzled and frightened

    We turned the door knob
    But the door wouldn’t open
    Struggles and pushing
    Only left us all hoping


    Resistance gave way
    And entry was gained
    Not to the living room we left
    But to its…remains

    Where a house once stood
    Things looked insane
    No outside walls
    No roof remained

    Above the basement
    There was rubble all around

    Looking left. Looking right
    Every house was torn down

    After nature’s rebuke
    We took in its aftermath
    Though possessions were lost
    We hoped and prayed THAT PEACE would last

    Swirling winds
    That once tickled my fancy
    Had reached out to me