Promise Unfulfilled

promised threat of storm abates passes by harmless hoped for brilliance lost as if snatched by a resentful hand that didn’t want to share the violent beauty breath releases, desire deflates my longing gaze turns from the glass back to my motivationless mundane writing task that I had wished the raw power would come reanimate I sigh and begin again hesitating haltingly the words swirl but won’t resolve a far off rumble sounds and my breath catches once more the rain starts, the words come I bend my head to my work breathe in, restored

I have been having a hard time writing lately, the effects of the virus still making my head felt as if it’s filled with cotton. My problems writing are coming from my problems thinking and motivating right now. Part of this is the financial stress of not knowing where the money I need to live will come from as I’m two months late on rent and bills.

It’s amazing how when you have tried all you can think of and have no one to turn to, your ability to keep going starts to decline. It’s pure learned helplessness, plain and simple and I really don’t like it.

Trying to do a little bit of work I’ve been returning to the storms that we have been having regularly here in Chicago as a source of easy inspiration. I’ve been writing a bit of poetry and my verse sounds different these days, much simpler and more straightforward.

I have been working on learning how to write American haiku and am impressed by how much can be said in these short poems. The poem shared here began as a simple haiku that I added an extra line to. But the thoughts I was having weren’t fully expressed by then, and other lines came that I worked into the concept of the piece.

The poem speaks to my love of thunderstorms especially the more violent ones where the sky turns black, the day dark and there are these glorious flashes of lightning and booming hundred accompanied by a downpour. Today it seemed like a storm was coming in. The sky was grey, there were a few rumbles of thunder and a flash of lightning. I waited eagerly for the full force of the storm to hit but then it passed over.

I hate it when there’s a promise of a storm but it never develops as if it’s teasing me and despite the hope that it might come back the sky lightens and the sun comes out. This leaves me feeling resentful of the sunshine, odd as that sounds.

But for whatever reason, I am energized by thunderstorms as I am by no other type of weather. I think it’s the combination of the sight of light flashes and the sound of loud thunder that invigorates me and motivates me to get to work. Some of my best poems were written during violent thunderstorms. These days the energy that such a storm transfers to me is something that I long for as there are few other things that succeed at this.

Natalie Frank has had her poetry featured in several anthologies including Untimely Frost. Her fiction has been published in Haunted Waters Press, Weirdbook Magazine, Siren’s Call Publications, Lycan Valley Press and Zero Fiction among others. Her collection of poetry, Disguised I Breathe, In Love I Hold, can be found on Amazon under her pen name, Taye Carrol.

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You can find links to all of the articles, stories, fiction and poetry I publish on Medium here. Thanks for reading!