When not out clubbing
hey-ho the merry oh
at night with the Inuit
I suspect by intuit
an intrepid Inuk named Nanook
a-hunting walrus he would go
with his trusty harpoon
traipsing 'cross the ice and snow
then when paddling afloat he went
in the harsh Arctic environment
to keep out the bitter cold and damp
in the very bottom of his boat
there was a fiery seal oil lamp
which eventually burned a hole
and without trace into oblivion he sank
with nothing to mark the place
in those deep dark blue depths so dank
even so who can ever forget
this tall tale chilling yet true
as his demise to the pithy proverb gave rise
'You can't have your kayak and heat it too'
brushed marigold sun
m
e
l
t
s
on
azure glaciers
polar blooms
u n f u r l
A crunch of snow
Alerts the prey
To freeze…
Or flee
A cat
Shakes it paws
Thinking
“shoulda used the litter box”
A dog
Rolls happily
Wrestling
Its inner puppy
The metallic sound
Of shovels
Mutes
The mumbled curses
Sparrows wait
For sunrise warmth
And the boring
Breakfast special
Somewhere in the wind
Rattling the song “Buzzy empty lane”
Hovering the small settlements
With so many loves and romances
The shady banyan tree
Exuding the cool shade
And the flower-laden milkwood
Infusing the night
With heavenly fragrance
passersby
Oh, passerby who would not care
Taking a look at the tropical almond
That is lightly fusing the air
With its long and yellow and so fragile flower
In a small, quiet corner
There is an young man
Arduously repairing the antique European clocks
Of which past glories and myths are reflected in each second hand
Oh, these little lanes
What are they secretly hiding?
In their deep paths
A Metaverse matrix
Yes, like a metaverse matrix
In an arctic, there lives a girl
The neighborhood sometimes wonders
Why has this pretty girl not settled down?
She must well be over forty
And time will not wait
Oh, that girl’s heart
Who knows
Has been committed to the luther
Everyday
Oh, everyday
She hangs her scallop paper life
On its notes of emptiness.
Prince of Arctic and Queen of Antarctica
The prince of the north region and the queen of the south region
They have had enemies for ages and ages, and now, oh always
This hatred is antagonistic, a killer mental war. Who is the power?
Who is the owner of the ice worlds? There is only one. But who is it?
There are two ice worlds. But these two are one. North, south. One
And there are two rulers. Prince of Arctic and Queen of Antarctica. Oh hell!
They can’t meet, because there are the temperate, Mediterranean, and
tropical zones
So the hate is eternal. But this is a long story, penguins said it to me
Hate, and love together. Prince of Arctic the Peace of Love, real cold style
Queen of Antarctica the power of the war. A story on. It will be written.
Man peace
The fate is war
Love comes
End of the war
Man and woman
Together the one
One is two,
but the one.
Arctic and Antarctica
Two polar and opposites
Two lovers, all one of them
Two is one, one is two
Both are icy land and soul
They are friends in the heart
Their stories are unimaginable.
Friendship
Love
War
Past
Future
Forever
Lives
Once the fire goes out
it never comes back
The heat dissipating
all light to retract
Tomorrow in darkness
the future untold
To wander inclement
— left out in the cold
(The New Room: August, 2024)
Her tears tiny daggers
shredding her pulsating heart
His frozen back a glacier
willed not to break apart
Into the Arctic mist she plunged
Could she melt his ice
I cannot tell you yet, my friend
Your turn to roll the dice
balmy at the poles
the quiet catastrophe~
a current standstill
***
Mind marooned
in complex convolution,
obscurity singular
in each living entity.
The psyche silhouettes
unique elements,
to alien attributes
they won’t adhere.
The reserved recess
hides the riddles,
sub-conscious search
completely clueless.
Probing entreaty,
the preserve persuasive
of outside world,
can’t contrive
the forsaken mind.
A pining prisoner
of own making,
a crumpled cocoon in
introvert isolation,
I see subsided
all the faces fading
faceless in oblivion,
me wedged secluded
in egoistic web
of self-adoration.
My morphed mind
turns Nemesis,
makes a mirror
of mirage for me.
Gazing gripped,
lurching to the oasis,
it’s only me
I always see,
reflected radiant
from cobalt cauldron
of the luring lake,
confined content.
In self-veneration,
a pretentious perspicacity
of fake facsimile,
I notice Narcissus
in me lonely lurk.
A secret switching
over to obsession,
specter senseless
lies latent,
languishes listless
beneath brazen layers
of arctic acuity
in the dark,
frozen…
What do polar bears eat for Christmas as a treat?
Lollipops, sugar plums, red hots and other things sweet?
Let’s find one and ask I said to my cousin Ned.
Unfortunately, after we did that, one of us ended up dead.
Which one? My grandchildren asked, amazed and ready to know.
I was flabbergasted at this logic; were they truly this slow?
I'm silk-fire, curled in emblazoned quartz horizons,
Of aurous equator, rising in smoke as a secular bird,
From own fossil-ashes, flying to distant honey-shores, scarlet spun,
Stretching across merlot crusts of earth, like a coal-storm, sobered
Yet, my heart is not a silent sandstone, flaming with rage,
It whispers to my Mon Cherie, my arctic air,
In dialects of redolent romance, midst ethers of space,
And he, who fuels my glory by igniting spirit, emerges in graphite flares
Our skies are not sketched with rose-gold glitters,
Rushing in a black-horse's symphony,
crashing porcelain herbs,
We paint universe in ruins of lead and metallic cinders,
Me and arctic air, breathe as one in thunderous heartbeats of reverb;
Orbiting in jade bonfires of ornamented redwood,
While cradling wrath in crimson vineyards,
Has any nurtured offspring of starburst hope withstood,
If our eclipsed union is a toxic twinkle upon sacred lotus' haven-yarns?
Winter dons his scarf of white
and lets his snowflakes gently fall
Adorning the trees in snowy delight
As his cold winds come to call
At times he'll send an arctic blast
To make us shiver and shake
With icy fingers a cold spell is cast
and there's a freeze upon the lake
But when he conjures up too much snow
He transforms into a wizard
As he makes a fierce wind blow
and buries us in a blizzard!
1-16-2023
12 Lines of Rhyme-Winter Nature Themed
Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
drowsy polar bears
yawn in glacial snow-rimmed den…
arctic storm alert
Date posted ; 11th of December 2022
How many syllables verified
One sizzling summer afternoon
As the spent sun splashed
The remnant of the heat wave
My throat turned to a desert dune.
I saw the freezer morph into an oasis
Offered me a cup of enticing ice cream
And a dish of chilled strawberries
I set as pink crown on the delicacy.
The regal ensemble I put in the mouth
The tongue swirled it on the palate
Melting glacier went down the throat
Suffused me with arctic ecstasy.
_______________
June 22, 2022
Contest : Ice Cream
Sponsored by : Julia Ward
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