The Sound of Rain

The sound of the rain
feels like a blanket of words
I thought I forgot
under over-strained sunshine.
Lost stories come home sometimes.

Photo by reza shayestehpour on Unsplash

Song Choice: Here Comes The Rain Again by Eurythmics

Liner Notes for this Groove: This tanka is linked to the Friday Writings post at Poets and Storytellers United.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Why is That Crazy Woman Out Walking in the Rain?

1. Because though her boots and umbrella don’t match, they’re both cute in their own way and should be seen and used for splashing.
2. Because even though yesterday was a wash day, she’s got an interesting hat (that also doesn’t match) to protect her hair.
3. Because spreadsheets will still be there when she gets back, but rainstorms are now.
4. Because there’s nothing like a good shower to get over a block. It works for writing, why not this? 
5. Because she can imagine she’s attending a cherry blossom funeral, watching yesterday’s petals get swept along the roadways, and out to the drains that lead to something bigger somewhere else.
6. Because no one stops to make small talk in the rain.
7. Because the rain doesn’t care if you leak water too.
8. Because there has to be a rainbow at the end of all this, dammit. I haven’t been out here all this time just to go inside without seeing a rainbow.
9. Because angry-splashing so hard that rainwater makes it up and inside my boot makes me laugh.
10. Because I feel there’s something mad and lovely about laughing in the rain too.
11. Because I see a neighbor giving me an odd look out the window, and that makes me laugh harder until the rain slows down.
12. Because petrichor.
13. Because it might be little, but, finally, there’s that rainbow I needed.

Photo by Craig Whitehead on Unsplash

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Song Choice: I Like to Walk in the Rain by Shirley Temple

Liner Notes For This Groove: This poem was created for Poets and Storyteller United's Weekly Scribblings prompt, Listmania.

Caffeine is Caffeine is Caffeine: Blogging Around with Rommy Week 11

Small sprouts have a lot

to teach stiffened trees

about bending in the rain

and loving the way

water collects on new leaves

to refract the sunlight after a storm.

This poem is linked to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toad's Tuesday Platform and Poets United 445.

The Liner Notes for this Groove:

It all started with a burst of caffeine. I know I asked my mother-law-for decaf. She swears she got me decaf. But about 16 years ago I knew a few things after I finished that coffee. A.) That was probably not decaf and B.) the expected jitters from said cup of coffee felt a lot more intense around my abdominal region, so even though it was a couple of weeks early I was fairly sure labor had started.

By dawn the next morning I was looking at my new-born kiddo, Rose. I suppose given her entrance into this world it shouldn’t surprise me that she’s become something of a caffeine enthusiast. So is she a coffee drinker like her dad or a tea drinker like her mom? I think Rose would most likely relate to the quote by Abraham Lincoln, “If this is coffee, please bring me tea; but if this is tea please bring me some coffee.” She cheerfully partakes of either as the whim takes her (she had one of each on the last day of being fifteen) because she sees no reason to place limits on enjoying things that make her happy.

As she’s making the transition from kid to very interesting young lady, she is vocal about expressing who she is, from her vivid and unabashedly geek chic clothes to her retro taste in music (on vinyl, if you please). And her joy is infectious. I wish I had felt confident enough to release my inner geek to run free in a frenzy of pixie-stix fueled glory. But seeing her happily embracing her quirkiness is the next best thing. Being her mom has taught me a lot about the magic that can happen when you are fully and authentically yourself, both as a writer and as a person.

I got a small print of this painting, AmanitaTea, 

when I ordered a larger one from Art by Lady Viktoria, 

and something about it just struck me as so Rose-like, I had to use it here.

So dear Groovers, what’s your preferred method of caffeine delivery? Or do you want to talk about a time when being authentically yourself made things interesting? Make your thoughts known about these questions or just catch me up on your week in the comments section. As always, you can drop a link to your cyber home if you want to elaborate on any comments you’ve left here.

Song Choice: The theme song from one of our favorite shows to watch together, One Day at a Time

Exposed to the Elements

The steel colored sky draws me out

 as everyone else scurries in.

The treetop’s wild dance is reflected in my eyes

as I pay barefoot homage to the gathered elements

and storm ready to be birthed in their play.

I am aware of the ogling through glass.

Any fool can tell whispers apart from honest thunder.

Fool is one of the more charitable epithets given to me

from the asylum of their sturdy walls.

If I stayed inside, away from the feel

of wind tumbling my hair around me,

if I denied myself the pleasure

of water easing the heat

of the day from my skin,

I’d be the darling of all the parties

featuring makeup and storage containers.

I would not be alone.

But I am alone, watching the clouds unabashed

at their own power, parading their majesty.

When the rain finally comes,

I, as the lone worshipper

sing the hallelujahs in my heart

out loud so that the voyeurs

will have something to discuss

at the next container party.

Song Choice: I Want to Break Free by Queen  

This song is the product of combing prompts from Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads (Fireblossom Friday, A Touch of Gray) and A Dash of Sunny Prompt Nights (Rain showers my spirit and waters my soul)

By Rommy Cortez-Driks