The Thunderstorm and the Stallion

ledworldnuke's picture

There's a dancer in Manhatten, moving in rhythm to the thunderstorms; taking steps in time with the rain. [Leaping with the cascades -- turning with the lightning, twisting and bending with the thunder]
There are lovers lost within themselves, pushing one another down into the grass, letting the reeds touch bare flesh, the rain soak hair and cool heated movement [Thunderblasts echo as heartbeats]
And somewhere in the distance a stallion is crying against the black velvet sky, hooves stamping into soaking earth as it bolts through the wet blades of grass. [dodging thunder, running with the lightning -- showing mother earth that her children are still wild]


Lit From Inside's picture

absolutely delightful. an emo

absolutely delightful. an emotional orgasm. i adore it (and i don't like poems with horses)

Speak roughly to your little boy, and beat him when he sneezes: he only does it to annoy, because he knows it teases. -Lewis Carroll, a man with little sense, and much imagination

pixies_in_the_underworld's picture

hey, ledworldnuke

Your choice of words were wonderful, and really jumped off the screen at me, but it was even better when I read it out loud. I really enjoyed this poem.

There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~Anaïs Nin