A whirlwind of anticipation

Fierce winds tumble through
A cyclone
change is in the air

Karen Hayward ©2017
No claim to image

Thunder storms beating in your heart

There is a silence before rain falls
hissing through atoms, empty, threatening,
soldiers of nature crashing into life.

But what of all the crimson blood that spills?
I grasp at the lose threads of my shadow
as it splits, a fierce drum, beating, beating.

A blunt knife tearing heaving hearts chambers.
I count in my mind how many foot steps,
one for each sting of thunders dropping light.

One hundred? Two hundred? I estimate
five hundred. Five hundred shards of my soul
scattered through tiny drops of petrichor.

The earthly fragrance, natures pure blessing
and yet a curse defined in your young heart
but does it beat now rapid screams of need.

There goes another shard, sharp and glossy
outer glow of maternal lubricant.
If only I were your belief. Your hero.

Calm the orchestra of your blood playing
in your ears. I could transmit messages
skimming across the surface water drum.

Manipulate cloud and envelope you
in protective fluff mothers wings out stretched

I would fly the universe for you, dear
my spirit catching claps of blue thunder
between the falling tears of hell’s recluse

Image found via wordpress library

blue body of water with orange thunder — Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

It begins

And it begins, central in my forehead the deep pounding that promises storms on the horizon. Skies of peach Melba as a winter sun stretches his fingers through the frozen web of clouds blocking his way, and the throbbing consumes as we are swallowed by the darkening screams, and it beats, pulling, dragging, striking…my eyes beg to close as I am swallowed by the changing air, my eyes beg to close.

Image and words

The Shadows that Haunt

I hear the howling winds they drag me from my slumber,
Trees screaming, leaves pleading, debris flying,
Rain falling, heavy, denting, slamming on windowpane,
Where now is Selene among this raging storm,
I search for calm and find only the descent of
crimson mist, I search for light… But the soul craves darkness
Which has long arrived, I search for hope but Pandora
was left astray, unlocked…
I hear the startling call of objects dragged through
the storms mouth, teeth bared, blood dripping,
I hear the emptiness of atoms
the raging storms of nature
the familiarity of night
sat alone, as insomnia
Kisses away the shadows
that haunt.

Drowning in my hair.

There is a silence before rain

falls hissing through atoms,

empty, threatening, soldiers

of nature crashing into life.

But what of the blood that spills?

I grasp at the lose threads

of my soul as it splits with

each drum a blunt knife

tearing hearts chambers.

I count in my

mind how many foot steps,

one for each sting of thunders drop.

One hundred? Two hundred?

I estimate five hundred.

Five hundred shards of my soul

scattered through petrichor.

The earthly scent is a blessing

and a curse defined in your heart.

Your heart. . .but does it beat now

rapid screams of need? There

goes another shard, sharp and

glossed in maternal lubricant.

If only I were your belief. A hero

chemically, born to other planets. . .

I could slow the rain and calm

the orchestra of blood playing

in your ears. I could transmit

messages across the surface

water, manipulate cloud and

envelope you in protective fluff.

My wings would stretch the

earth in search of you, my

soul would scour the universe

as my spirit caught claps of

thunder between the falling

droplets of rain.
Karen Hayward ©2017

Image and words

Stars Hidden By Storm Clouds.

SS850093

Light illuminated skies, clear crisp crackles of
plasma splitting atoms. My hand slipping into
yours. Fingers fumbling. Storms raging, rain
falling. My heart beating, a rapid
symphony of fear, of love, of fear, of love.
Silence. Your strong arms holding me near.
The infinite calm of your voice and the abandoned
trail of lust in your darkened eyes. A moments pause.
Chemistry in motion beneath dark skies with
stars hidden. . .

. . .behind storm clouds I can see
your silhouette because of those clear,
crisp crackles
of energy.
There’s not a cloud too stormy to keep
me from reaching for you. Your rain soaked dress
as it clings to your stars and galaxies . . .I pilot vessel through your
Milky Way.
As it clings it provides me with enough mental stimulation
to write sonnet after sonnet.
Sonnets of lust
of intrigue.
Consummation ensues.

My spirit sings at a star filled shore
and by your side I know, darkened
skies are no more.

Words & image(c) 5-2017
Karen Hayward/Locthiese

You can check out more work by the extremely multi talented Loc Thiese here

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Oh to be a leaf upon these winds.

Howling torturous winds screaming through trees as it crashes against glass. Oh to be a leaf right now, to feel the slow death of my soul as I am thrown and torn from my branch. Lost among the debris of forgotten storms tears ebbing stemming never, oh to be a leaf in this stormy weather.
Karen Hayward ©2016

In the empty hours of twilight…

In the emptiness of twilight beneath a storming sky,

Cold seeps beneath the covers in the bed where I lie.

Creeps across my skin a constellation of alone,

Thunderstorm.

Storm clouds hung heavy throughout the day,
promising a cooler air, a clearer front.
The hinted promises that only a storm can bring.
Night fell and skies darkened,
flashes illuminating the flaws of existence.
Roaring anger filling the empty spaces.
Each lightening strike lit the skies,
tinted thoughts dispersing into the atmosphere,
Each deep clap of thunder energising the skies
as empty spaces become filled.
Till the storm passed
and clouds dispersed
and all I could see was a clear sky of twinkling stars

Relief.

I sit on the concrete

door step

in front of the

neighbors door,

socks no shoes.

Cup between my legs.

The air is cooling,

my head ache is leaving,

fine rains falls on my skin.

I close my eyes and look

to the skies.