Because I Said So
It’s been the same old thing year after year:
You mope around all gloomy & convective
grow turbulent with variable shear
& bluster in that helical invective
tone All I want to do this spring is spread
some bliss inspire the bees to pollinate
warm up the sea ensure the fish get fed
& coax some pinnipeds beach-ward to mate
but you just keep going all vertical-
like sprouting vortices to spew about
debris! Enough! Go be a spectacle
in Tornado Alley! Air that funnel out—
then find a nice dark cloud & settle down
to spawn some little terrors of your own…
STEPHANIE L. HARPER
This ditty was initially drafted during Tupelo Press’s May 2017 30/30 challenge. Thank you to friend and fellow poet, Clyde Long, for sponsoring this poem by ordering up a sonnet with the title, “Because I Said So,” which included the words, Tornado, beach, and bliss. The uniqueness of these requirements engendered a “pastoral” infused with the life-giving mayhem of spring, reminiscent of the air of triumph that the holy day of Easter embodies for so many.
May the miracles of this season, in all their incarnations, bless you and bolster you the whole year through!
SLHARPERPOETRY 
Holy crap this is good. The scansion is pitch perfect. “Gloomy and convective” is a very interesting image, quite an odd pair.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love when things end up coming together just right exactly because I’m not in charge of all the elements. Along with Clyde’s directives, I had storm/tornado terminology swirling around in my head because Matthew makes certain of that (“convective” came from one of M’s favorite weather jargon to sling around, “Convective Available Potential Energy,” which sounds like a proverbial teenaged storm brewing to me!), and the rest was, as they say, history… 🌩🌪🌫
LikeLike
Gotta mine that jargo though, Jart Crane did just that & look at the range of vocabulary in his poems. I know nothing about much but I’ll mine any subject for words. Thing is, they’re usually a one time thing, they only impact that one time; like the word roborant, which i elbowed in a poem I’m writing, probably never use it again.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wouldn’t know anything about such nerdiness… 😉😉😉
LikeLike
Not a jot (wink wink nudge nudge).
LikeLiked by 1 person
But not when we are thinking about tornados.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love how you subtly spun out the water cycle.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! Thanks, Sudhansha. I guess even I’m only full of so much hot air… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
A euphemism for being enlightened? 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
😇
LikeLiked by 2 people
Great visuals!
I saw this 20 years ago. I swear his black cloud was going to drop down and engulf all of us. But just like that, a gentle breeze blew in off the Lakes, and he never looked back.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dearest Ken! I initially read your comment just upon waking up, before I was yet vertical, and read it with half of one eye… Of course, I “liked” it, because I do like and appreciate all of your engagement, but now that I’m more or less awake, I’m realizing how lovely it is that I’m not the only one who anthropomorphizes weather phenomena… I lived in Wisconsin for 5 years, and once found myself in the position of needing to herd my 3 cats down 4 flights of stairs into my apartment building’s basement in the middle of a tornado warning. I never saw him coming, but later found out he had passed within about half a mile. The Blimpie shop where my brother was working at the time had its front windows blown out. I may not be quite the weather aficionado that my son is, but I do find thunderstorms and tornadoes to be conscious-seeming and gorgeous in a way that can inspire a less-than-prudent variety of fascination…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Mine actually was in 1991 (how time flies!) and it seemed like he came out of nowhere. I’m now in mid-Missouri, just east of Tornado Alley, but I’ve not seen a tornado. However, I’ve seen my share of storms come off of Lake Erie.
We were diving from my boat, outside of a break wall at the Buffalo harbor. A storm front was supposed to be at least 8 hours out, so my (ex)wife agreed to come along, boat-sitting as my son and nephew (both 9 years old) fished. As it turned out, the forecast took a drastic turn as we launched the boat (even though the water was calm and flat), and we never heard it. I surfaced after 45 minutes to let her know we would be out of the water in another 20. The sky was black, there were 4 foot waves and the boat was rocking and lifting the anchor – drifting so it was just 30 feet from the wall. I gave the dive line a tug to get my dive buddies to surface, then made it to the boat. I managed to get onto the boat, started it, and turned away from the wall (while, still in my wetsuit). We picked up the other two divers, headed to the ramp, and got the boat onto the trailer in a downpour. As we drove away, the rain turned to a sprinkle, almost like a sun shower, but my ex wasn’t any too happy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! That’s quite a brush with fate! If find the “ex-” factor of this anecdote quite compelling, too…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, that day was on a long list… 😉
LikeLike