why do you frown so things are not so bad even the rain renews a heart too parched behind the clouds sun shines above the storm so wait look hard inside beyond dark wait do you not see blue do you not see the blue © Frank Prem, 2017 November 2017 Poem #01: lake to … Continue reading above

before crescendo

spatter-drop the raindrops dance to the rattled tin sound of thunder the clouds in flight are waving bye bye bye and bye spatter-drop-spatter the rain is dancing falling faster now the thunder is a grey tin fence right beside me right above me someone beating it with a stick I think the clouds are fleeing … Continue reading before crescendo

bass lines

doo-do-do-do      doo-doo-doo-d doo-do-do-do      doo-doo-doo-d doo-do-do-do      doo-doo-doo-d the bass line is an insinuation by the café stereo system playing noise pitched just above the sound of clatter-clatter-cla-cla-cla-cl clatter-clatter-cla-cla-cla-cl and shu-shu-shu-shu      shu shu      sh      sh shu-shu-shu-shu      shu shu      sh     … Continue reading bass lines

street sounds (4): rain care

a car washes up the road ssshhhhwwooowwwrrrraaaarrrhhh as the rain tappa-tappa-tappa-tap ta-ta           ta-ta comes down the street runs like a river flows the cars drift by like powered boats and the rain cares less than naught tappa-ta tappa-ta bouncing spreading wide upon the tin the rain cares nothing ssshhhhwwooowwwrrrraaaarrrhhh © Frank … Continue reading street sounds (4): rain care

lost (yodeling)

valleys mountains do rivers run from these rounded slopes away creatures are strange creatures harbored crevasse surprise way down below if I yodel you will you yodel me odel odel-ay-he-yee ay-ye hee I hear you do you see me we are lost here pineapple blue-scaped yodel ay he-yee yodel ay-ay I hear you oodle-oo I … Continue reading lost (yodeling)

stuttering staccato

staccato is a dance I hear it starting on my roof ta ta-ta ta-ta-ta-ta ta ta-ta ta ta-ta-ta s-s-s ... s-s-s ... stuttering until it starts then beating stronger varied pitch it is timpani ta-ta ta-ta ta-ta ta with varied pitch it is the roof timpani staccato falling one-by-ones I watch them from the clouds … Continue reading stuttering staccato

blowing back the wind

blow the wind blows rattling my house I hear the protest of ghosts [b-o-o-o-ooo] who feel the wind running through them it’s a chill thing when the wind sings and runs through you [b-o-o-o-ooo] [b-o-o-o-ooo] blow the wind I stand at my door and blow mightily I blow the wind back     back   … Continue reading blowing back the wind