Dirty Morning
A washed out world
Lights attempt to penetrate your murk;
Continuous double-fanged attacks
Like needles poking through cloth;
Sheets sliding, riding up, shifting on screen
Distorting the route, my vision.
*
Closeted world, shrouded in cloud:
Where is the dawn?
The bright freshness of early day?
Greyness, greyer than grey
Oppressively compressing us, in our car;
Assaulted from above: battered
With scatterfire drops.
We fight the rain with blades,
Relentless and exhausting.
*
But the light, the lack of light
Makes you mysterious: opaque.
Dense, wet, insipid, enclosing
Like a fat giant's arms
Lumpy:
Trying to stop us, to gather us,
To eat us all up.
The sun is there, veiled, burning from afar,
Singeing the clouds to a dirty brown.
Half-light, half-gloomy mess
Like porridge made with grit.
Colour has been sucked away
Lushness has withered, shrunken
And skips its remnants across the road,
Darting a dance macabre,
Suicidally writhing on the black
Roughness of road.
Red rawness is the only flash
Of colour,
A manifestation of a life-sapping gash.
The world is ending, Falling:
Dying back.
Dirty, dirty morning.
***
Long car journeys are good for something: writing poetry. An early start in the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness was my muse for this one, still wet from Storm Babet's skirts as she wound her way on her tour of the British Isles, sprinkling rain drops and twirling, swirling winds as she sashayed.
The rain was coming and coming and coming. Hazy and indistinct, the road was a blur between the lights of oncoming cars, mist and the distortion caused by rain on the windscreen.
The sun was trying to rise and show its face but the clouds just weren't cooperating and so, it merely managed to turn the clouds a very strange shade of grey tinged with brown.
It was this light that prompted me to write.
Hope you liked my poem and please do leave a comment if you do as I do like discussions with other Vocal folk. You can also listen to me read it on Spotify at Scuffed Granny Writes, link below:
Thanks for stopping by!
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More stories from Rachel Deeming and writers in Poets and other communities.
Can You Drive a Ford Fiesta Through a Desert?
I’m flying down the B1 highway from Windhoek to Keetmanshoop with a map and a boot full of camping gear. I’m excited for the first stop of my Namibian road trip: the Quiver Tree Forest. I spot the sign and turn onto the C17, off the tarmac and onto the gravel. I’ll be there soon; it’s only ten miles or so. I am unprepared for what comes next. The car slides and slips across the road. I am not fully in control anymore. I slow to a crawl. The car judders and shudders, the noise deafening, the vibrations rattling the teeth in my skull. It takes me around an hour to drive the ten miles. I arrive at the campsite relieved to be in one piece, even if it feels like all my bones have been shaken slightly out of place. I will later learn that this is what happens when the gravel road becomes “corrugated”, and that the roads authority goes round once a week to “grade” them. Seems I arrived about 6 days after the grader had last been round.
By Jenifer Nim3 days ago in Wander
Comments (37)
Wonderful imagery and powerful metaphor. The only thing worse than driving in the rain is driving in the rain in the dark.
Congratulations on your top story! 😊💕
Winningly captured Rachel! 👍👏 When did you live in Perth?
A lovely description of a drab landscape. An apt example of what it means when I think: Beauty is in the experience of the knower. And just to indicate how things can take a silly turn anywhere, though I at once understood what you meant by "We fight the rain with blades", I simultaneously conjured an image of Knights futilely attacking a storm... presumably, the Knights who say "Ni"!
Exquisitely written!!!l Loved your phrase, "Darting a dance macabre," Loving you nature poem!!!💕❤️❤️
I live on Sweden's west coast outside of Gothenburg also known as "Little London". I recall seeing the sun a few weeks ago; grey, dank and hampered are just some of the words I'd correlate with a sense of being smothered between the unseen stars and muddy glop around my farm. This was brilliantly written.
Yep, we do have some of those when we need to just close the eyes and sleep the whole day. You captured the essence of the mucky murk.
Those mornings of heavy rain and clouds are dirty. Well done ❤️
This painted such a vivid picture. “Like porridge made this grit”. I immediately thought of the UK and Ireland, and was delighted to see this in the end. Great job!
I loved this. I’ve never felt a rainstorm the way I felt it in this poem
Very well written, I applaud your talent and creativity
"We fight the rain with blades, Relentless and exhausting." Not sure why, but I love this description so much. The entire poem is a Jewel. Congrats, Rachel.
Oh my gosh yes!! I had read this thinking it was amazing and to see it now as a top story?! Congratulations!! I really love your choice of words throughout this poem, painting this picture of driving in the rain, which made me very nostalgic. Really well done and deserving of a top story!
Aw MAN!!! Your word selection and order is ON POINT-TAHHHH!!! Congratulations for a well-deserved! Must admit though...doesn't make me despise gloomy British weather any less. And the gloomiest is yet to come 😱
Your poem beautifully captures the essence of a gloomy, rain-soaked morning, and your vivid descriptions bring the reader into this atmospheric world. The imagery, from the raindrops to the distorted road and the struggles it presents, is masterfully woven into the narrative. The use of colors and metaphors, like the sun veiled in dirty brown and the dance macabre of the rain-splattered road, paints a striking picture of a world in transition, where nature battles with itself. Your explanation at the end provides valuable insight into the inspiration behind the poem, giving readers a deeper understanding of the creative process. It's a wonderful piece of writing that evokes a strong sense of atmosphere and emotion. Well done! 🌟
Oh, yay! barmy Rachel, Top Story congrats to you!
A poignant piece! Congrats!
All that on a dark and dim morning... Not bad at all. Top Story well deserved!
Back to say congratulations on your Top Story!
I see exactly what you mean, great poem. This has some really fabulous imagery in it, and I see the blur of slush and rain along the deadly asphalt. Such beauty though too, congratulations on Top Story!
Congratulations on your Top Story
Awesome and Congratulations on your Top Story🎉💯🎉
I absolutely love this
Wow, your use of vivid imagery and personification was jaw dropping! I love the touch at the end with the anecdote from you about what inspired this poem! Great work Rachel and congrats on Top Story!!
I have been driving through this weather too. You have captured the dynamic and essence of it wonderfully. ❤