Irene

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned from "The Mourning Bride" written in 1697 by William Congreve (Not Bill Shakespeare)

 

 

The thumping and darkness in the bowels of Irene

sit lugubriously on the edge of serenity

the pounding and the tears through all these years

languishing in turpitude and solace from her knowledge

unceremoniously, recklessly and without feeling

while listening to her tongue lashing and

harshness of her venomous and thoughtless words

cracking like a whip, “do you think I’m an idiot”

Not once but twice while searching through black clouds

of disappointment and destitution … no rhyme…no reason.

 

All due to confusing north from south and east from west

reality from fantasy as we all feel the sound of her thunder

Irene crashes on and above the banks of New Haven,

Guilford, Fairfield and the Housatonic

lapping and licking at the shores while throwing

her magnificent weight in her favor, and the swells explode

the question, “how can she possibly know the children”

Even though downgraded and ebbing

the uneven strength and fortitude asks the question

and all my determination fades in the wind.

 

Trees weakened as we begin to dig out and explore

power lines and internet down, hampering communication

flooded streets and nervous bridges impeached

yet Irene serves notice with an ace of her own

dressed in her sheer-like vest and turquoise ring

her hazel eye filled with scorn and distain

while brightness and candor follow her path

with her feline temperament scratched and clawed

the tears begin to taper amidst her howling breath.

Irene begins to move northward stoically away from me.

 

I’m not a victim so I pick what remains of my heart

and begin to reattach my churning stomach

with the threads of her words of disbelief

bringing the force she was most capable of exerting

as the storm continues her long, unforgiven journey

hatred and disdain replaced by disinterest and apathy

as the breath disappears, the light becomes brighter

and Hurricane Irene decides to leave Connecticut

impact in place, on the broken bows of the sturdy trees

perhaps she was right, after all was said and done.

 

 

 

Author's Note

Hurricane Irene
August 28, 2011
photo: Wilbur's Point, Fairhaven, Mass.

Reviews

[Jessi Leigh]

Sounds like a woman on PMS. Just kidding - well sorta ;). Absolutely stunning Allen, well written, I love your imagery, you can really feel the power of Irene and her destruction. I couldn't help think of Kali.... Might be night to write something about her in relation to Irene.. Combine real world and spiritual world maybe?

[Lily Mae]

You gave her a voice within your words.. I could picture this woman scorned and her rage..and some received graces.. a beautiful write on a heart breaking subject.. another excellent write from you Allen..xx

[ImagineItAll]

I'm not quite sure how you managed to do it, but you made something dangerous into something beautifully tragic. Wonderful descriptions and terrifying images. Amazing write.

[Beautifully Tragic xPoe..]

Wow. You captured Irene really well. Living in NJ all my life, I've never witnessed such an amazing storm. Loved this!

[Brad]

damn, man, you captured it all so well, from the actual event to the emotions involved...i'm all waterlogged now!

[SoulCrusader (Yas)]

Very evocative and brings it to life...stunning words!!!

[...]

Looking a the picture makes me sad, It's horrible what people have to go through. Like your write.

[Richielee]

wow Allen,this is so well writen I am in awe.You write so eloquently and precise.Brilliant

[WindSong]

A wonderful epic poem about Irene's scornful track of despair and devastation. Just beautifully written about death and destruction along her wayward path until her ultimate demise!

[Muse]

Wow you made Irene come alive!

"while listening to her tongue lashing"

Mother nature is indeed giving us all a lashing. Despite the humor in the poem, I could feel your pressing need to share a lesson. Each time we rebuild.....we need to give thanks to God, mother nature. After all.....Irene has feelings too.

"with her feline temperament scratched and clawed"

Great stuff!

[Tate Morgan]

Ah mother nature she rarely cares what we think and washes us clean when we sin so I say at least she is impartial lol