weather

They sailed over my head all day;

Those wispy heirs of Styx.

And ’round the trees their Brother made

His swooping, devilish tricks.

 

He tied the timber up with thread,

And after all were bound,

Like puppets on a string he flailed

Their arms absurdly round.

 

Then wildly upwards did he roar

To where the titans docked.

He flung them from their anchors,

And before them, hulking, stalked.

 

Eerily, they changed in strength;

Shape-shifters of the sky.

Hauled along by veiled lengths

Of rope lashed to his thigh.

 

His fits of rage and tantrums led

Him all about the valleys.

Pulling close behind him all

He’d tethered there so madly.

 

He never noticed all the pairs

Of eyes which swiftly scanned

The sky with sudden fright as shadows

Swept across the land.

 

Earthly souls were twisted with

A fear that he did lack.

For though their eyes were surely open,

All the world was black.

 

41 Comments

  1. I Love your story-driven poetry and prose. It’s really inspirational and I absorb ideas to improve my own writing. I like that OUR writing style is more conversational, so I suppose I relate to your posts so well.

  2. I appreciate you taking on the mantle of verse. There is great imagery here as well as swift action. You deserve all the praise this gets. I admire how prolific you are in your writing – when inspiration strikes, write! Even when it doesn’t strike, write! Couldn’t hurt.

    Also, don’t think me a stalker, but I followed a link to your FB and saw the new video Georgia. Now, I’m really threatened: twice the writer, three times the singer and half my age. Oy, what a world, what a world! Seriously, you’re super talented – don’t waste it, ’tis a gift from God. – Your Pal Moskywitz

  3. “Earthly souls were twisted with

    A fear that he did lack.

    For though their eyes were surely open,

    All the world was black.”

    This is wonderfully powerful.

  4. Hello.. Thank you for the ‘like’.. ‘River Styx’ has an eerie cultural quality.. it never claims to know anything but evil.. yet as with evil.. hides in story.. I enjoyed this post.. I find ‘blackness’ is many times ‘confusion’.. self definition and discipline help me write and play music through those times.. Peace Tony

  5. “He tied the timber up with thread,…,Like puppets on a string he flailed”

    You are boundless…from Styx to Skies… and finally

    The Weather makes the “ALL THE WORLD WAS BLACK”

    It’s like Roger Waters or David Gilmour or Jimmy Page playing your words on endlessly…I can really visualize them

    Can anyone measure your depths? Who are you? Goddess of Poet?

Love you, too

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