Winter Storm Names | Revealed

Winter Storm Grayson Hammers Northeast Coast; Whiteout Conditions ...

https://weather.com/storms/winter/.../2018-01-04-winter-storm-grayson-northeast-bo...

2 hours ago - Blowing snow hits parts of Maryland and Delaware as Winter Storm Grayson sweeps through. ... Grayson's impact will peak in the Northeast today. ... The National Weather Service warned of "whiteout conditions" in coastal New Jersey and Delaware, with heavy snow and wind gust from 45 to 60 

Winter Storm Frankie Dumps Feet of Snow in the Northern Rockies ...

https://weather.com/storms/winter/.../2017-12-27-winter-storm-frankie-forecast-rockie...

5 days ago - The West felt the biggest impacts, but snow also spread into the East.

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Winter Storm Ethan Hammers New England, New York State with a ...

https://weather.com/storms/winter/.../2017-12-22-winter-storm-ethan-christmas-snows...

Dec 25, 2017 - A quick snowstorm is hitting the Northeast just in time for Christmas.

Winter Storm Dylan Will Spread a Wintry Mess of Snow and Ice to the ...

https://weather.com/storms/winter/.../2017-12-19-winter-storm-dylan-snow-forecast-n...

Dec 22, 2017 - In time for pre-Christmas travel, a snowy and icy mess arrives in parts of the Northeast.

Winter Storm Chloe Hits the Midwest, Northeast (PHOTOS) | The ...

Dec 14, 2017 - Winter Storm Chloe, the third named storm of the 2017-18 season, dumped snow on the Midwest and Northeast, hindering travel on the ground and in the air. Numerous crashes were reported on roads in Wisconsin as the storm got going Wednesday, and in Michigan, more than 100 flights were canceled.

Winter Storm Benji Recap: Record-Setting Deep South Snow and a ...

https://weather.com/storms/winter/.../2017-12-07-winter-storm-benji-deep-south-east-t...

Dec 10, 2017 - Benji brought historic snow for early December to the Deep South.

Winter Storm Aiden Brought the First Snow of the Season to Denver ...

https://weather.com/storms/winter/.../2017-10-08-winter-storm-aiden-denver-forecast-...

Oct 9, 2017 - Winter Storm Aiden brought the first snow of the season to the Denver metro area, but its heavy, wet snow in parts of Wyoming, Colorado and western Nebraska triggered scattered power outages, not to mention travel headaches in the region. Aiden was a quick-hitting winter storm ...

Winter Storm Names For 2017-18 Revealed | The Weather Channel

https://weather.com/storms/winter/news/winter-storm-names-2017-2018

Oct 5, 2017 - Winter Storm Names For 2017-18 Revealed. The Weather Channel.

‎Winter Storm Names For 2017 ... · ‎The Science Behind Naming ... · ‎Winter 2012-13

chiasmus

BIRDS

above the intersection—

bits of tire shred  

(gators) 


I drive my head home

careful not to spill one drop (of

sleep brain).

WHY IS THIS BEAUTIFUL?  

 

Answered Questions - is one of these your question?

• What do you call a large mass of snow that slides down a mountain?
• What is a large ice mass that moves slowly down a mountain or over land?
• Masses of ice which move very slowly down mountain valleys?
• A large ice mass that moves slowly down a mountain or over land?
• What words means a large mass of rocks and soil slipping down a mountain side?

Unanswered Questions - is one of these your question?

• What is a large mass of rocks and soil slipping down a mountain side called?
• What is a huge mass of of ice that moves slowly down a mountain?
• What is a huge mass of ice that moves slowly down a mountains?
• Large mass of rock and soil slipping down a mountain?
• What do you call a sheet of ice that slides slowly down a mountain?

No? Post your question to the community!

Topical Poem

The guy who installed my carpets worked for the NSA. It was nothing underhand. He was just a neighbor doing a little business on the side. Youngish kid. Kinda handsome. A little weird maybe as if he'd do a lot of porn. I almost liked him.

I know he sowed little eyes all over my stairway carpet. I saw him pulling these little mothers from his overalls pocket and slipping them all over the stairs.

No harm no foul.

He had a way of shoveling the bugs in, letting them roll from his broad white hand blocked by his hand from view. His hand shielded his hand if you know what I'm saying. As if that wasn't enough he turned his face to the wall and coughed, covering his mouth with his other hand. It was kind of a balancing act. One hand spreading the bugs while shielding itself and the other shielding his coughing mouth. He was on a stairs mind! Lucky he had these special shoes with suction cups so he could actually fall back to an angle of oh 45 even 50 degrees even more in his overalls and still not fall down the stairs which looked beautiful by the way, when he was done.

too funny

SNOW DAY, AUGUST

Let’s have a snow day in August and let it go on a very long time.

Let the falling flakes dissolve every appointment.

Let the soft bank of invisible snow piling up at the door become a cold heap, solemn in the blue light, growing, not growing under the constant fall.

Let me watch, not act.  Let me not have to shovel ever.

The light outside is the light inside, only the wall divides.

The snow makes everything quiet.  It keeps people off the streets, like a hurricane, but is not noisy, never saying Look at me.  Listen to me.

If you go out in snow every step is tentative.  You clutch at the rails and set down your foot carefully as if it were made of solid bone.  There is no grip.  If you drive you could veer off, desperately even if it is slow. 

In snow, if you get there, standards drop.  Everyone is stunned by the bright light and turns toward the door Oh boy you got here.  And that is enough. 

Missing the bozos

About suffering they were sometimes but not always (not often really) wrong,

The Old Masters; how, well, they understood
Its human position kind of; how it takes place or takes the place of happiness, or ease,
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully or even cogently along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For lunch or dinner, there always must be
Children who make such a goddamned racket, stealing your dessert or skating 

on a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful marathon must run its course
Anyhoo in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go widdle and the contortionist's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.... I forgot what I was going to say ....
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance (if it's really his): how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman,

thinking of his lunch or the Old Masters,

ploughed on.  Just like the sun.

And the ship.  And the boy too.

Because that is what we do.

You step through your radiant house

without a machete.

Apricot pile flames waist-high underfoot.
The wool looks like silk. With the
tips of your fingers
you press burnished strands
lightly away.

The blue sun of the wall blazes.

See this, see that.

Incense, aromatic oil, cumin, cayenne--
you sway through this drunken
swirl too

as if held on string

leading two plumbers
to the basement,

down the bald steps
to a different stage-set

that place of metal and dust
rammed under your nest
of home

extracting them

Two plumbers cut a grey swathe
through the blazing forest of your house.

They carry dazzling
tabernacles.

In the first     a ciborium.
In the other  it is not
a tabernacle
but a blue plastic drum

in this other the day's catch
thrashing

luscious with sea water.

You don't discern.
You don't differentiate

between the plumber with the tabernacle
and the plumber with the bright blue drum.

Someone else is writing this poem.

Bells Will Come

It's Monday.

The glorious week begins.

A slow tide comes in.

Head light with comedy,

on the inside.

On the outside--

too heavy for my neck.

Cheeks pillowed

by pillows.

Still folded in bed

like some kind of warm

dumpling.

Sleep, the small death,

the big sleep.

I like sleep a lot,

maybe death will be like that.

Maybe Keats was right

before the last tussles ripped tissues apart like you would strip a bird.

The week

lies at my feet,

Rome,

this week the students go home.

I can't say I'm not glad,

glad for anything to end

even what makes me happy.

All my limbs fit in this nest

but they travel long distances

away from me.

BETWEEN DARK AND DARK

With broad strokes

I shear up.

Broken morning sky

pats my face dry.

Head back

on the jutting waves

I concede

I do want to breathe.

NEW POST

Those were the early days.

When you had to you know "plug things in."

You had to "sit down."

You couldn't just.

When "walking to your car."

Well you could

but not everyone

+ only with a phone.

So there were times when.

I admit.

Well isn't that the way.

we are the best 

the  answering machine is broken

this is the refrigerator

please state your message  +

i'll spell it out with these magnets

thank you for calling

we are the best 

SOUP

In the Walgreen's at the end of the street there is soup and in the soup there is energy which you need to walk through the snow (a very long time) to the Walgreen's at the end of the street.

If you could go through the snow, if you have boots sturdy enough to plow through the unplowed streets, and keep you upright, as if their uppers shot like armor to your hips or oxters, you could get soup, you could get that energy if you had the energy to go and the energy to pay. 

The energy you eat is called soup.  The energy to pay for soup is called money. 

The feeling when you walk through snow toward the end of the street goes on a very long time.  There is silence in all the houses and you can't quite believe the Walgreens will be lit by round bushes of light and that there will be people compact as skittles in there and that you have the energy to walk through snow and boots and the energy of money to pay for soup that would give you energy to walk through the snow the next time to the Walgreen's at the end of the street for soup.

It takes a very long time to walk through the snow.

You walk in the middle of the street between the gauntlet of snow banks piled up and beneath you another fluffy gauntlet like a comforter.  You can no longer call the street a street.  It is a sheet.  You are an ant crawling across a sheet cake.

No-one hears you as you walk that very long short way. 

No-one hears you as you stand at the window to look outside feeling the cold's seep, no longer remembering the nights of looking silently for a long time at the bead of light that is a plane traveling across the sky or the pleasant mornings in the bus-shelter on the main street watching the world lurch by.