Sometimes you get a great idea, an image inspired by nature, and even though the story flows, the words get in the way:
Spring Rain
Cloud piss falls, softly, slowly,
opaque and moving like
retirees down in Florida
or six-month residents
there and north again.
They return,
noisy and demanding,
quick to make their marks
but lose themselves to blend
with their surroundings.
Transparent,
they cannot last and settle in,
dependent on each other
Like a crowd
of white-haired older folk.
Neat thought, but scrapped at this early stage because there really is no better word for “piss.” “Urine” is too technical, and the cutesy words mom taught us just won’t fly here. We could switch to “tears” but isn’t that just too precious and overdone? So I’m leaving it as is, calling a shovel and shovel, and burying it deep in the archives unedited.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Cloud piss?
On my drive to work this morning, I was more focused on thinking of a slightly more creative way to describe rain than on getting to Tunxis safely. (Go figure). Anyhoo, I did come up with a couple – clouds shooting pellets? bullets made of water? I’m a little tired of the rain “pouring” on rooftops all the time. I think I’ll make a blog post out of this one.
How ’bout, “angel piss”?
Yes, please help me out on this one. Interesting, playing with words, isn’t it.
Another thing you just made me aware of, Neha, is that I seem to do reverse poetry: I take pretty things happening around us, and make them into stark reality. i.e., instead of making the people like the rain and snow, I made the rain and snow like people. And instead of describing the rain as what happens to it on the ground “like blending with the sidewalk”, I assume the blending of the people/drops as a metaphor for the ground. A bit weird, maybe, but appropriate to my personality perhaps.
Weird? Heck no. The term for people like us is “Creative”. It’s everyone else whose weird.
Cloud Piss?
Swirling mist?
Misty sweat?