After the Thunderstorm

For D.H. Lawrence


“After the Thunderstorm”



Suitcase was packed in a

damn hurry, the cosmetics

chucked in, a tin of cold

cream spilled in the Dolce

Gabbana bag, the dress

zipper catching on some thread

that was left to dangle, the label

was out on the Zara A line dress

the high heels were put on

by flattening the back of the heels

awkwardly she ran out of the hotel

her flight a concordance to how

the evening had gone from bungled

love making and resistance – the

thought one should never had

done this at all ever bubbled

to the surface and the clash of alcohol

fueled thoughts, the let's sleep

on opposite sides and he going first

at three am, and during all of this

a thunderstorm flashing in the window

catching the two in the light then darkness

like a Balinese puppet show.




For William Faulkner

“After the Thunderstorm”


After the thunderstorm, come

what may, never will it be the same,

it begun with the grumble off somewhere far

then the intervals became closer

it was like the two ends of a school compass

the point and the pencil apart, and then they met

like life had been going around in circles

a dog chasing its tail, and then the rain

decided to tap dance on the roof, the thunder

a sergeant major waking his troop up in the morning

went nuclear, and the lightning which at distance

was like a scratch on the mirror became a shard of glass

somehow it had to mean something, the rain splatter

turned over a card, he saw the Ace of Spades float

away in the passage of water, an omen, or war,

then the commercials were over thankfully

and the Flintstones were finally back on.


For R.S. Thomas

“After the Thunderstorm”


To be caught at the rocks

where the crabs hitherto

had crawled upon, and limpets

stuck fast, the kelp glistened

with the swash of the tide

and the seaweed swished

the ramparts of a retired jetty

that once gave one a view

in the evening of the sun

dipping into the blue purple

horizon like a biscuit dunked

casually into coffee, and then

as you straddle two rocks

to fish, the clouds bulk on

the hills behind to catch

you unawares, the rain begins

to puddle the beach, and you must

run for cover as the lightning

turns you into a fugitive next

to the grits and by the time

it is over and you have caught

your breath, banished is your fear

of death, as the combination

of the wind, the rain, the thunder,

the lightning had started you

into submission before the beauty

and an authority beyond your suffering

and pain, something awesome, before

the word had become trite, and there

at the grits you had the realization

of a continuity which serves us

both well, before the swell of darkness

and ignorance envelopes us,

we are set free.
















For John Milton


“After the Thunderstorm”


If, and that conditional

conditions the poem

makes it contrapuntal

in a play and pity

of ambivalence

between the secular

and the religious

so an angel is figurative

emblematic as well as

a person, a fallen one

is like the rotten apple

that is true to its fiction

and to its metaphor

so the thunderstorm

near Fiesole was dark

and satanic, with the loom

of gloom the clouds thread

over the hills and the lightning

struck the heart of the matter

in a physical manner which

Galileo might respect, but

not the faithful Jesuit

and after the press of air

and everything in a fine gloss

one sees an unlikely Paradise

has been fostered from the dust.























For William Shakespeare

“After the Thunderstorm.”


What do you forfeit when

you bet upon the rain and

say it won't?

And then there is a downpour

and more, you are all a sudden

in a state of pure panic

as perhaps the washing is out

you forgot your umbrella

you left the bathroom window

open.

What then after the thunderstorm

when all the common things above

are but conceits for your love?



For Frank O' Hara

“After the Thunderstorm.”



Like after a thunderstorm

would be the easiest simile

one expected

like a Sunday artist painting

of marigolds at an exhibition

you didn't really want to go to

but at the reception after a glass

or two, you mention Cezanne!

Did you really say that?

Of all the still lives to compare

it with, you had to choose his,

and getting back to after

the thunderstorm you realize

if you let it settle down, it's not

such a weak comparison,

for there was the crescendo

that reminded you of Wagner

at his worst, and that was how

the relationship played itself

out, beginning in sunshine,

I hear you moan, “Why must

love always be sunny?” and

you get up to leave in a huff,

but I laugh and laugh as there

is nothing remotely funny

about after a thunderstorm, like?


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