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Matsuo Basho

A cold rain starting

A cold rain starting
And no hat --
So?

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In The Sad Cold Rain

IN THE SAD COLD RAIN

In the sad cold rain
Even the Beauty of the almond blossoms
Pales.

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Rain, cold rain

Rain, cold rain
collects and runs
Curb side- gutter
Brush leabes and cigarette butts
With bits of paper in a heap.
Bodies with faces hidden
By umbrellas
Walk into rain from rain;
Rainbow oil stained muddy

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Cold Rain & Snow

Well I married me a wife, shes been trouble all my life
Run me out in the cold rain and snow
Rain and snow, run me out in the cold rain and snow
Well shes coming down the stairs, combin back her yellow hair
And I aint goin be treated this ol way
Well she went up to her room where she sang her faithful tune
Well Im goin where those chilly winds dont blow

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Rain (2nd version)

Rain oh rain how it gives me such distain
as my love left me on a day of bitterly cold rain
and now im being driven insane
driven insane by the over welming ammount of rain

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Spring and Rain Dancing Together

Spring has sprung
As I hear the pitter patters of rain
And the aroma of my lovely roses

As I stand out side
The wet cold rain taps my head
Then I do the rain dance
To the powerful almighty rain

I stay out side
And pick a blossom
For I love spring
It is awesome

As the day comes to an end
I stay outside to send
A message that
“I love spring” Poem Writer,
By: Jackie Thielman

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January Rain

I don't love January rain-
at least, not like I used to.

Maybe it's being in a different house
on this dirty, noisy street.

I never used to feel this way-
January rain used to make me happy.

But the cold rain now lapping at my windows
reminds me my eyes have begun to betray me,
and my joints ache when the weather comes in,
and the silver gray clouds have begun to match my hair.

Jan.2006

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Lots Of Rain Around

Light rain may bless our gardens with its welcome shower
Blest rain may still our worries, make us once more sure.
Still rain may soften edges of the city street.
Soft rain may cool our anger, make things once more straight,
Cold rain may lighten the oppressive, summer heat.
Light rain may dampen fires of burning, seething hate.
Damp rain may grey the sound of unmeant harshness said.
Grey rain may wet our spirits, make us down and sad.
Wet rain may quicken our intent to stay indoors
Quick rain may lighten into sunshine, which endears.

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When I Feel The Rain I Live

Outside it's raining and i'm watching at my window,
In silence of the world, only the dance of rain i could feel,
My thoughts are in torment of questions and answers,
Only the rain knows what i need.

Rain falls gradually in the rhythm of my thoughts,
I feel it's wrapping my pain,
The voice of rain calming my senses,
When my heart is rushing to beat.

I'm watching rain from window,
The cold drops are touching the thirsty ground,
My soul is the same as the soil,
It needs love as much the soil needs rain.

I'm walking in cold rain,
Like crystal pearls are falling from the sky,
When touching my skin it's like magic,
I feel my soul light and released of pain.

I'm listening the music of the rain drops,
And on this music i am dancing, speeding around,
With my arms wide open touching rain drops,
Rain is caressing me with its voice and touch.

I adore rain, it's all my sould wanted,
Caressing me, awaking life in me,
When i feel the rain and listen to its rhythm,
I wish to live again, again, again.

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Let Me Stand In The Rain

Let me walk down that cold blurry road;
feel the cold rain down my hair
the wind blowing twisting and turning
to avoid the cold rain
let me feel the cold rush through my body
let me avoid the hate; make them all drown
let the rain wash them away
let me stand in the rain
I'll stand up on top of the black pavement and hear the pounding of the rain
I'll cry and let the tears fall down with the rush of the rain
theres no need to hide in the dark
no need for an umbrella
theres no need for someone to say 'I hate you'
I'll just stay hidden in the rain like a dumb girl
I'll stand there till Romeo comes and save me
but I, the foolish one can only imagine the rubbish things a fantasy book would want
let me stand in the rain and protest my love to Romeo
it's not an obsession its a misunderstandment
like me foolishly standing in the rain, waiting for nothing
but drops of lies
not one or one night I will forget Romeo
He should be thoughtful I put some care and thought for him
but there I go imagining
Let me stand in the rain and pour my emotions
where no one can see, where no one can give sympathy but the truth
let me stand in the rain till I fall ill
wake me up when the sunshine has come and drops of light showing me honesty
and Romeo standing there waiting for me
let me stand in the rain so my imagination can go over the top of head
let me stand there till the numbness of my heart breaks away

Let me stand in the rain.............

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The House Of Dust: Part 01: 01: The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

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The House Of Dust: Part 04: 07: The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces,
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins. . . . '
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister mass, we ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, with word upon murmured word,
We flow, we descend, we turn. . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves on among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good night! good night! good night! we go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky.
We have built a city of towers.
Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light. They have shaken a burden of hours. . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

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Her Perfume On A Pillow Fades

Cold rain
On an autumn morning,
I was alone by railroad tracks;
I smiled and wept
In the damp, lonely fog.

When I can’t remember
Your perfume
Or the bed where we slept,
I’ll probably be in a coffin
With nothing left to forget.

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Sold

In fields of gold
You pay your dime
My soul is sold
I gave you mine

Cold rain
Does not kill the pain
You drove me insane
But hear me not complain

I took the love you gave
Maybe it takes me to my grave
For you! I did try save
You forever I will crave.

RG/NB

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Don't Let Go

When brief day fades
and darkness fills your life,
don't let go.

In this sad land
when cold rain falls
and winter winds strip bare
the green summer trees,
hold fast my strong hand!

In the gray world
when clouds conceal
blithe stars, and even
the brightening
moon has
failed,

don't ever let go!

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A Woman’s Dirty Hair

An old car
Moves slowly
Through cold rain;
A modern city
Grows ancient
In the sad fog
Of urban despair.

A woman’s dirty hair
Is pulled
By an oily hand
In a rat-infested
Motel room.

God ignores suffering
But also kindly turns his head
To the indiscriminate sex
That helps the hopeless
Alleviate poverty-born
Unrelenting stress.

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Done Wrong

the wind is ruthless
the trees shake angry fingers at the sky
the people hunch their shoulders
hold their collars over their earsand run by
it's a cold rain
it's a hard rain
like the kind that you find in songs
i guess that makes methe jerk with the heartache
here to sing youabout how i've been done wrong

and i am sitting

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Weather Hurricane Storms With Good Friends

dark summer storm clouds encase dark horizons
dark summer storm clouds close lost horizons
season of summer storms sweeps in across seas
rains come storms come closing tourist beaches
cold rain hurricane storms threaten new floods
batten down windows close shut tight exit doors
good time to weather storms with life true friends


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Gunplay

Gunplay

The confused inner city kid
had a gun.
Another boy didn’t show him respect,
so he shot him dead.
The gunboy fled into a park,
under a bush hid
shivering in the cold rain.
Now he was a hero in the eyes
of other kids
Sirens and voices, they have got him now.
One bullet left,
wished he was back home with his mum,
thought of his options…
a hero for all time?

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And I Wonder If I’m Not in Love

Walking alone in the cold rain
Sad concrete beneath my feet
Dusk descending alienation gloom
In these hours separated from
The hopeful afternoon.

My heart has been in the rain
For years,
I’ve shed rusty, graveyard tears
Long frozen with forgotten grievances.

I’m convinced, I haven’t
The ability to any longer love
But a face enters my memory,
And I wonder if I’m not in love.

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Su Shi

Visiting the Temple of Auspicious Fortune Alone on Winter Solstice

Well bottom deep warmth return not return
Sighing cold rain wet withered root
What person more like come to teacher
Not be flower time willing come alone
Deep at the bottom of the well no warmth has yet returned,
The rain which sighs and feels so cold has dampened withered roots.
What sort of man at such a time would come to visit the teacher?
As this is not a time for flowers, I find I've come alone.

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