Arsenal of Words

The Writing of Arthur Klepchukov

Tag: rain


Night is like a song that you can’t see
so you make up scenery to fill the gaps
between fluorescent highways. and forests possible.
Figments of figs twist with twigs into
nocturnal architectures of confusing beauty.
Headlights slice into your eyes and ruin
the surprise so you return to sound
of foggy rain and smoky tears,
trying to fit between the droplets
without feeling cold or found. and failing.
World exposed as just imagination but
your faith blooms, believing
makes the secrets breathe.
Traffic rolls across eyelids like
tracks of fading bright and wet tails
across the windshield. and when
you peek again you find only rubies
staring back like mute, unblinking fireflies
and you know you’re driving blind
no matter how wide your spies are open.

Listen to me read Edgemoor:

(If you don’t see anything above, listen to the track on SoundCloud.)


Recorded the sound of rain
but can’t hear when it repeats repeats
repeats, is every rain drop unique
like every snowflake, or are
they just reflections of
a somber surround?
Took off my glasses for a blurry fog
but can’t see where it retreats retreats
retreats, a gorgeous mess of
color, is every splat alive like
feelings want you to believe?
Yawned to create time
but the moments can’t be captured captured
captured, amorphous as those
pretty blurs, slipping
between thoughts
like raindrops,..