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Teen Poetry #8
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Happy Rains
| Teen Poetry #8 |
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Happy Rains |
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gozaggss Junior Member
since 2006-04-26
Posts 33 |
Happy Rains It was raining. Pouring, really. The 7:00 PM weatherman had forecast 2 to 4 inches of rain. It was 7:04 when my mom asked me to do something that I loathe with all my being. Something that I dread to do; something that I would trade souls for, as long as I didn’t have to do it. Not tonight: go to the grocery store. I don’t have a car so I put on my San Jose Sharks Sweatshirt and my Gonzaga Beanie and braved the torrential rains. I walked down the block, grumbling noisily along the way like a 4th grader who was assigned homework for over the weekend. But as I turned the corner I stopped. And looked around with wonder and amazement. The rain was on fire. No. The rain was fire… It poured through the street lights which blared through like loud trumpets in a flute ensemble. The fire rained all around me, warming my cold hands and stilled my chattering teeth. The chore didn’t seem so tough anymore. Glancing quickly at my watch I predicted on how long it would be before I got home. “7:06” I said aloud to myself, making a silent promise to be home by 7:30. Time was just one of those things in our family. Some families had a Game Night, others Movie Night… ours had a Calendar Night, where we all sat around with our planners discussing carpools and such. Come to think of it, Time was the only factor worth considering in day to day life. If we were out of milk, before we judged if we needed it right away, we would judge on how long it would take to use it up again. It’s sort of like a prison. A prison where you’re kept watch on by a giant clock who decides when and where you can go outside your cell. As I walked through the flames, I kept thinking about time and how it served me. It never helped me with my friends. In fact, it seemed to work against us whenever we were together. Same with homework, or chores, or any mundane trivial trials I faced everyday. It worked against me at all times. Always on the hunt for the person with the appointment to keep or the job to get. It’s like Time was the bully of the playground. That jungle gym was his, the slide was his, and the people: his vassals… Before I knew it I was a block away from the store. The rain was torrential at this point. But instead of moving faster to get under the sanctuary of an overhang, I stopped and faced the incoming volley of water, face upturned. The light splashed off of my cheeks and ran down my neck in almost the exact same trail tears went down my cheeks. Only I wasn’t crying. The rains were crying for me. Or for someone like me, where Time just never seems to stand still at all and always slams the door in my face to spite them. I was always left standing with coats and leg warmers on, seeing my breath on the face of the door. But it didn’t seem to bother me tonight that I had a nemesis of untold power or origin. It didn’t faze me that the monster under my bed was laughing at my stupidity or picking at my scabs. My face was a painted mask, and the ink was washing away. I smiled as I began walking again, taking off my Gonzaga beanie and pulling back the sleeves of my San Jose Sharks Sweatshirt. The water in my shoes didn’t bother me anymore, and I felt warm on both the inside and the out… Even with the heart of terror and the superstitious wearer, even in my best condition counting all the superstition, I laughed at the beatitudes of a thousand lines. I smiled. I got to the store and bought a pint of Brownie Batter for grandma and a stick of Trident gum for myself. I walked out and the rain was gone. My smile faded a little bit. The rains were happy rains. The rains rained tears, but they felt like happy tears given in unhappy circumstances, where no one should have the right to smile or laugh. They filled me up and topped it off. But now the rain was gone. All that was left were the great fireballs that projected the light so well. Somehow both sullen and upbeat I trot back home taking the longer way back in order to buy some time for thought. I finally got back. The ice cream hadn’t melted, even with the extra time I took on the walk. Before I opened the door, I noticed my breath wasn’t puffing on the face of the door. The streetlights glowed benevolently above me and below me in the puddles. I glanced at my watch to check my time again, But time had stopped at last. |
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| © Copyright 2007 gozaggss - All Rights Reserved | |||
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rhia_5779 Senior Member
since 2006-06-09
Posts 1334California |
I want to know more about what it looked like the watch when it stopped, and I want to know more how it looked when the character finds the rain on fire. If you are going to make it dramatic about why its a bad chore going to the grocery store than explain. Also I find it funny that the character is sent to the grocery store but they do not seem to buy much. ?? All in all though, you are a good writer. I was interested, and it was different the way you described time. This caught my interest in the first couple of sentences. RhIa |
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gozaggss Junior Member
since 2006-04-26
Posts 33 |
it was an alliteration to something i do every once in a while. i complain about little things. i was asked to go get grandma some ice cream, and sometimes i get a crappy attitude about it. but that one night... it was just plain different |
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