The Great Rain

The Great Rain

THE GREAT RAIN

With momentum the cloud gathers,

In the dark range of a mother on travail,

Prepared for a sullen wreck;

Lightning, blinding all like a Steven wonder.

Sully to the absolute,

Floating elements in the waters.

 

Farmers and hunters are hastened,

As there is no going back for this rain,

Cascading yonder, every corner.

Cutting trees asunder in its plunder,

Chasing mother and father,

Children and others;

In a cold blooded fury.

 

No one stops the great rain

From dropping bubbles, inflicting pain,

Flushing the grains;

Crushing sculptures like Mellon.

Vulture poised-stretch like crane;

No one stops the torrential rain, and its massive cane.

Oh! Man is vain.

 

The astrologist words disappears in the ether,

Green grass of the valleys,

Mammals of the forest;

They all succumb, clobber.

Hypnotized to surrender,

Cut off from roots and chambers.

Only the vision from d ember,

keeps this day a remembrance.

 

Like a falling star from the east to the west,

North and south,

The heavens opened its mouth,

Pronouncing curse on every living thing;

Bubbles dropping with sweet melody,

Intoxicating everybody.

Suddenly, it stopped promptly.

Leaving the earth void.



5 thoughts on “The Great Rain” by aceDprodigy (@1prodigy)

  1. nice poem, the imagery is good but not well painted to me o!, i could dicipher your location, i be like say them post you go villa,

  2. a mix of the complex and the basal, the abstract and the obvious… maybe you should split them and consider making this two poems :-) . thanks for sharing.

  3. Reminds me of one of my favorite childhood poems…
    ”…From the once blue heavens,
    Accompanied by noise that deafens
    Steadily pours the rain”

  4. very good attempt but I am afraid that @chisom is right. The concept could have been better developed. Painting the image of a havoc wreaking rain can be much more fun…

    Lightning, blinding all like a Steven wonder.

    [I know you mean the lighting makes men blind like the great musician but with your punctuation, it seems you mean the lightning blinded the people like Steven did (and he never did blind any one).]

    Poetry is about you telling us something special about an ordinary thing and telling us in a way that we wouldn’t have done ordinarily.

    Keep writing…

  5. You’ve heard it all or have you not?

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