A poem of mine

[thecatwithfish]

I just wanted to get a few people's thoughts on a poem I wrote this morning... Be nice but don't be afraid to be critical...


Summer Rain

The rain begins to fall, like a raging stream
its torrents pour on down from heaven’s eaves.
Each and every of its drops a perfect jewel,
destined to burst into a thousand drops of beauty
as it collides with our hard earth.

Men and Women all around me rush for cover,
darting into shops and under canopies, some
raise umbrellas or cover heads with coats
as they dash ahead. But I do none of these,
I stand, still and quiet, gazing upward to
the lofty clouds, raindrops shattering across my face.
I breathe deep and feel the freshness of this
summer shower across my hot skin.

The skies begin to clear, the clouds retreat;
curling themselves away and revealing the
bright and dreamlike light behind.
Still standing still, the crowd once more engulfs me,
The ground is wet, the air is hot
and rainbow tendrils form across the sky.

[PrinceMyshkin]

It's a credible, lucid picture of the time, but credibility is the problem here for me, as I'd rather feel more of what this day meant to you. The anthropic fallacy may be one of if not the most common literary strategies but without it or something like it, we have what seems to be a weather report.

[thecatwithfish]

I agree, thank you for the advice, I shall post an alteration or two when I've made them.

I'm always a bit scared with poetry, I'm terrified of sounding silly... I'm so used to writing academically that its actually rather difficult to let go of that report-instinct...

Advice is always welcome. :)

[thecatwithfish]

My unpolished second attempt:



Summer Rain


I
The rain begins to fall, like a raging stream
its torrents pour on down from heaven’s eaves.
Each and every of its drops a perfect jewel,
destined to burst into a thousand drops of beauty
as it collides with our hard earth.
With the gentle plop of each collision
comes some secret feeling,
and like a perfect thought the mirrored sphere
of each and every drop reflects my soul.

II
Every drop that falls upon my face
and breaks into a perfect coronet
carries with it all the power and all the strength
to make me feel alive. Just as a splash of water
will wake a sleeping man, will breathe life
into each and every dusty floral bed
upon this wet-dry earth so too will every drop
remind me of my miraculous existence.

III
For a moment, just the shortest while,
I witness every sense within my simple body
simmer, and shake with excitement at
these feelings, this new energy.
My soul is in the rain, and as I feel myself
so too do I feel everyone, and everything.

IV
The Men and Women all around me rush for cover,
darting into shops and under canopies, some
raise umbrellas or cover heads with coats
as they dash ahead. But I do none of these,
I stand, still and quiet, gazing upward to
the lofty clouds, raindrops shattering across my face.
I breathe deep and feel the freshness of this
summer shower across my hot skin.

V
I am standing all alone, with people all around me,
drenched from head to toe I stand
and gaze into the sky, the drops of rain, less now
bursting on my skin. I feel so fresh
that I could stand there, still, for hours more.

VI
The skies begin to clear, the clouds retreat;
curling themselves away and revealing the
bright and dreamlike light behind.
Still standing still, the crowd once more engulfs me,
The ground is wet, the air is hot
and rainbow tendrils form across the sky.

VII
My wet, wet hair clings to my forehead and
a dribble of cold water tickles my back.
Every hair on my body stands up straight,
saluting the intensity of feeling.
My clothes are sodden, though I do not care.
A smile broaches across my face:
I am happy...