Whirlwind

 

“Ezekiel’s Whirlwind” by Patricia Kimsey Bollinger

 

the wind and the whirlwind
the sand and the sandstorm
blow through my spaces
the places inside where I
fought all the good fights of
autoimmune heart and mind
vice and virtue engaged in
their life and death struggles
to clinch final judgment

empty chambers now sapped
howling voids all the fight
long gone out of me never
achieving conclusion just
wartorn and weary arenas
where standards of sinners and
saints snap like windsocks
in gales of abandonment death
when it comes mere formality

 

 

From my book Bullets from Bones

Windblown

“After the Storm” by Holly Anderson

 

ramshackle lives

knocked about

in the storm

grasp for ethics

no matter the

provenance any

slight handhold

gains expedient

purchase false

principles swarm

helter-skelter

in violent air

immoralities clash

for supremacy

over the winds

that uproot with

ease weightless

tenuous minds

 

 

From my book Bohemian Scents

Just Once

Last month saw the fifth anniversary of this blog. After more than 4,000 posts, it seemed appropriate to re-post the first poem that I published here on January 8, 2013. Thanks dearly to everyone who has followed me on this extraordinary journey.

 

“Cool Breeze” by Karen Mathison Schmidt

 

Just Once

Trees well reckon the breeze
Arranging their leafy hands
To gather each soughing gust
Why can’t I grasp it, too?
It just slips through my fingers
Deflects off my palms
Though cupped to the task
No matter my motives
Regardless my deference
The freshening air is my friend
Stimulant for my senses
Sustenance for my spirits
When it moves, it stirs me
When it blows, it fills me
When it roars, it energizes me
But I need to hold the wind
To caress, not possess
To palpate and ponder
Its elegant secrets
I need to feel it yield
In my poor leafless hands
Just once, for brief moment,
Just once, not again
Not for long, not forever
I will let it go, I promise

 

 

From my book Range of Motion

Storm Damage

“Long Time” by Emil Nolde

 

rain scours intaglio sorrows

wind speaks nameless fears

lightning burns bereft hearts

thunder cracks open doom

 

 

From my book Pieces of Wine

Squall

“Sudden Squall” by Andrew Bird

 

crosswinds collide
chase radical violent paths
through unstable air
then abruptly die leaving
behind a furious calm

 

 

From my books Ephemera and Riverthink

Nor’easter

 

“Winter Chaos, Blizzard” by Marsden Hartley

 
fierce turning winds
born of violent helix
whip oceans with
spirals of face-slapping
haymaker force
severe snowmaker
lashing at coasts
bringing blizzards
to bury the land
fill the valleys and
fatten the mountains
a roaring assertion
of dominance stirring
in flesh and blood
frailty real fear of
cold counterclock
cycles whose cosmic
proportions of power
give fury to weather
in vortex of winter

oh stoic New England
it’s you who must hold
against mad season
rampage and rage
hunkered down in
the warmth of your
plainspoken principles
flannel and fleece
and a fortified hearth
keep your values
alive instrumental in
teachable moments
of terrible trial
with shovel and plow
and a tipple of whiskey
you summon your
ancestral fortitude
rugged and rustic
full fit to withstand
the assaults of Borrhás

Purpose of Storms

“Broken Tree” by Eirik Sørstrømmen

 

winds bend the trees
cracking elderly timber
youth comes into its own

 

 

(originally posted October 2013)

Winter in the Windy City

 

“Chicago Winter” by Heidi Malott

 

 

backs turned to the wind
skyscrapers huddle for warmth
winter howls off the lake
punch-drunk pedestrians lurch
leaning into their livelihoods

 

 

(originally posted December 2013)

 

 

 

Perpetual Motion

 

“Halley’s Comet as Seen by Giotto” by Paterson Ewen

 

 

alive while they move
rippling wakes in time and space
afraid of stilled death
ungraspable entities
comets, the wind and our love

 

 

(originally posted December 2013)

Whirlwind

“Ezekial’s Whirlwind” by Patricia Kimsey Bollinger

 

the wind and the whirlwind
the sand and the sandstorm
blow through my spaces
the places inside where I
fought all the good fights of
autoimmune heart and mind
vice and virtue engaged in
their life and death struggles
to clinch final judgment

empty chambers now sapped
howling voids all the fight
long gone out of me never
achieving conclusion just
wartorn and weary arenas
where standards of sinners and
saints snap like windsocks
in gales of abandonment death
when it comes mere formality