This week let’s write a thunderstorm poem. It’s that time of the year, at least here in the northern hemisphere, where thunderstorms blow up in the late afternoon of hot summer days. Let’s celebrate them even if they leave our poor little furry friends a frightened mess. Post your anti-astraphobic poem in the comments below.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
The Sky Is a Lie
The clouds dim to charcoal,
bullies puffing their chests
flexing their muscles.
The sun sees fear under the bravado,
scattering the clouds
and revealing the lie of rain.
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Posted by nolchafox | July 24, 2023, 7:41 AMBrilliant! Wonderful imagery throughout.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | July 24, 2023, 7:19 PMThank you, I’m glad you like it!
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Posted by nolchafox | July 24, 2023, 7:37 PM