A Desert Mirage

I let it happen
I ran to it; I stayed.

A desert mirage –
distorted those years.

concealing the tears of my heart
within the monsoon.

The locusts laughed
full of chat:

the years of fear:
it was the song of the sirens.

now: broken down and stuck,
in the hell of my own hallelujah

there is nothing in me, that moves,
but the desert calls all its babies:

with the softness of a mother’s touch
and a knowing forgiveness

of everything in between.

L.J.
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Monsoon Do Not Forget The Sonoran Desert

So hot; the sky a pasty sun burn,
blades of grass like colorless straws
poke through dehydrated dirt,
like little cacti spines
the state sandpapered
from Gustnado attacks,
thundering clouds arrive
air displaces
in a cooling dance,
of fury
the aroma changes
as the first rain drops land
angry
annoyed
at another meteorological event.
With vengeance:
barren water banks over flow,
roads become inaccessible,
floods take over,
thunder and lightening take confront the sky.
Gone, as quickly as it came
leaves turned green,
dehydrate, moments later
hoping
next year’s monsoon will not forget:
the Sonoran Desert.

-L.J. Lenehan-

This is a poem I revised recently…

monsoon

Monsoon

So hot; the sky attained a pasty sun burn,
Blades of Grass; pale, poke through the dirt;
With no condensation, they feel like cacti spines.

Gustnado attacks, tornadoes of dirt;
Monsoon protects, sending in armies, of thundering clouds;
Masses eagerly anticipate.

Air displaces; movement brings variables –
A notion almost forgotten.

Suddenly, the mix of what it missed;
Changes, the aroma of depression.

The first drops land angry; annoyed,
At having to deliver another well planned meteorological event.

Delighted, for what is perceived as a basic entitlement –
Quickly, the evidence of being unprepared, displayed.

Barren water banks over flow –
Roads become inaccessible –
Floods take over; normally barren landscape –
Thunder and lightening descend with vengeance.

Gone, as rapidly as it arrived –
Green leaves moisturized –
Dehydrate in seconds.

Hope remains –
Monsoon will not forget, the,
Beautiful Sonoran Desert.

– L.J. Lenehan –