“Unraveling Chaos: Discover the Hidden Emotions Behind Martin A. David’s Stormy Verses”
In a world where each gust of wind can carry a myriad of emotions—both exhilarating and haunting—this poem invites us into a vibrant storm that rumbles through our minds and hearts. What if you could feel the very air alive with color, from the lush greens of trees to the haunting shades of grey that whisper of decay? The opening lines, bombarded with vivid imagery, compel us to join the walkers in “storm city,” where the elements play a primal symphony, revealing nature’s ferocity and fragility. There’s something disconcerting yet fascinating about comparing God’s cosmic presence to moving furniture; it calls us to ponder our own smallness against the vastness of creation. Each line leads us through a tumultuous dance of life, death, and ultimately, the calming aftershocks of a storm that leaves us in quiet contemplation. The poet paints a world both chaotic and serene, where the throes of nature echo the intimate rhythms of love and loss. So, let’s dive in— after all, do storms echo the thunder in our own experiences? For those looking to explore more, check out the piece in full detail! LEARN MORE.
Every wind dust-thick
The air is green
Of tree green
Grass green
Grey green death.
Heat is a breathing thing
World filling
Head filling
Blue spaces filling
Between purple clouds
And invisible clouds
Like tons of corpse hands
Stroking faces
Of walkers
In storm city.
Dust-thick wind
Grows crueler
Purple grows black
Gasping grey green of death
Filters light.
Far away
A white hot whip cracks
And huddled children count the seconds
Before the whiplash roars
The scary welcome sound
God moving furniture
Upstairs
(Why can’t we run outside and see Him?)
Dust-thick wind
Makes trees drunk
Drunken trees dance
Like joyous Hassidim.
Torn newspaper
Gets up alive
And runs somewhere
In circles
Nowhere
Secret place.
First drops fall
Like bullets
Through dust-thick wind
Death grey green
Heavier
More
More
Splashing drops
Splashing
Flash and groan
ROAR
Crescendo crescendo crescendo
(Witches fly in that magic time)
When hot clouds
Burst
Like crushed bodies.
Storm wind
Screams
Whips tree frenzy higher
Blood drops
Rain
From black sky
Black clouds
Black rain
Black trees
Black wind
Black screams
Frozen in memory
By whiplash flashed
Of blue ice light
Darkness again
And then the roar
God breaking furniture
Upstairs.
Earth throbs
Turmoil of lovers
Rising falling
Rhythms
Faster
Slower
A million ecstasies before
Crescendo crescendo crescendo
Writhing
Fiercely tender
Biting Clawing Stroking
Now NOW
Lightening thunder
Rain
Surging rain
Bursting like rockets inside my head
Thunder
And the wind subsides
Distant thunder
The lightning is no longer in the room
The earth is peaceful and tired
Trees tremble softly
Warm green winds whisper
And caress wet towers
In storm city.
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