above

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 …

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 …

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     …

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 …

cloud like

the mystery of clouds is ... well I don’t really know they just billow before my eyes like living a storm thunder rang the night last night thunder brought the rain I know that the cloud that brought it has gone now away like mist on the breeze like a thought now long gone but …

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 …

making noise

my neighbor has got the doof doof doof I think he picked it up from the radio I’m sitting here and making big noise my pen is scratch-scratch-scree all over the paper hear me roar all over the paper my neighbor has got the brr-umm-rrumm-rrumm I think he picked it up with some car keys …

axeman: await winter

I am the wood and I am the axe I am the man charged with cutting through a mountain and I hew and I chop I reduce the round by slice and by chip and by break through the rough opened up in the grain I touch the bark run my hand over splinters that …

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 …

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   …