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This Poem was Submitted By: Medard Louis Lefevre Jr. On Date: 2014-11-10 02:46:32 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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I Smelled the Rain

I see light I see dark I see hills that lie in between I smell rain I smell fear I smell the terror that lies in between there is a storm there is absolution there is a wanting to cleanse the world there is a storm there is direction there is a course never taken before the skies do not reveal and offer nothing of possibilities they may conceal they do not suggest another paradigm of where I should be or what I should feel on the horizon before colors were replaced by the uprooted greys hidden below waiting destruction I pictured the serene and then I saw nothing magnificent in creation deadly in conception apathetical to emotion and I saw nothing in all of me or a part of me I wasn't ready to unveil a little bit more a little bit less a storm in me opening grounds more than I could know more than I could hide more than I could expose more than I could bury I smelled the rain before I saw the storm

Additional Notes:
Sorry about grammar and punctuation. I just don't remember anymore.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2014-11-21 14:19:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Love it.The inner conflict. The storm that no one can see, or feel let alone understand. Your poem has an excellent flow and is an effortless read. Thankyou

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2014-11-14 17:34:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Medard, One can tell from this poem that is was written by someone with a poet's soul and imagination. You certainly show a feel for form with using the repetition as a structuring device. The trope of smelling the rain before the storm is not bad. The poet is what makes this poem: you are in it, and you are a poet. I want to know you better after reading this. So it has a subtle allure: shit, Whitman's persona and stance overwhelms even his language and rhetoric, but its language and rhetoric of genius. You have the persona, the stance, the soul, the heart . . . the language/rhetoric doesn't reach where you were born to go. I await the day they meet in a poem from you. MSS

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2014-11-13 12:33:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Medard, this is probably the best piece I have read of yours. It is a magnificent tale of truth and premonition, of time and resolution- Linking the entire external piece, to an internal struggle, accents the obvious metaphor that finds itself woven throughout. Of the piece, I cannot identify a portion that moved me more than another. It is simply a well done treatise. Of note however; is the final lines: I smelled the reain before I saw the storm It is alive in truth, a truth so often marginalized in our lives. An absolutely splendid piece of writing.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Marcia L McCaslin On Date: 2014-11-10 14:44:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
This poem ‘reads’ like a vision one might have with its telling in exact terms what the poet saw, even if those things contradicted each other at nearly every turn. There is a sense of questioning, a sense of not understanding, a sense of knowing that there was a physical storm brewing in all its grandness, but also a storm brewing in the poet. I’m not sure what it means: “by the uprooted grey”, but it is my favorite line. What I like most about this piece is it is ‘visionary’ ‘ethereal’ ‘vague’ (to me) perhaps prophetically ‘scary’ but it starts on the ground with the title “I SmelledThe Rain”—and it ends on the ground with the familiar and the universal “I smelled the rain before I saw the storm.” I enjoyed it very much. Thanks for posting.

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