Best Frigid Poems
frigid waterfall. . .
crystal tears from fallen limbs
a woodland wonder
For Raul Moreno's "Icy Cascade" contest
the still black eyed hare
rests under icicle eaves~
birds eat bearberries
12-15-2019
Writing Challenge, December - Winter Haiku or Senryu
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobe Ode
The Frigid Month of February
Winter at its worst: cold and dreary,
When whipped-up, brisk winds quake the wary
As falling temperatures and snow
Freeze exposed skin, nose, fingers, and toes.
In a blitz of polar-like weather
That stymies the ardent traveller,
People shudder forward in the chill,
Trekking along like penguins uphill.
Moody temperaments dissipate
In shared bonds in which people partake,
As they empathize with each other
When outside challenging the weather.
Winter at its worst: cold and dreary
In the frigid month of February.
Lake ice cracks with cold
breath hangs in frozen silence
stars sparkle above.
Great horned owls hoot
bitter February night
owlets to follow.
On this frigid night,
may we share as one this fire
that burns within us?
There once was a snowman named Jerrit.
His wish was to embed his carrot.
So he stood on his head;
He could have stayed in bed.
If his cold wife would grin and bare it.
Written 1/1/2018
Contest: Upside Down World (limerick)
Hosted by: Eve Roper
Let frigid winter come,
it feels nice to be lonesome,
seeing myself snuggled up
in a comfort blanket holding a cup
of cocoa by this warm fireplace...
while the wanderer's frozen face
is dotted with the whitest snowflakes
as he rubs his red, freckled nose!
Isn't this an unforgettable moment
to delight me feeling the thrill
of the Season with its distinct chill?
Isn't this the magic of Christmas
when joy is felt in a calm land
by the sound of chiming bells?
Let frigid winter come and cover everything in glistening, deep snow,
and 'though the evening will not have the moon's glow,
brightness can lead my footsteps really far...
shouldn't I play a Christmas song on this guitar?
I will go from house to house and knock on every door...
tingle everyone with great joy by spreading the message of the Savior!
I'm very confident that going back home
stars will gleam and children will roam:
singing, shouting, swirling and throwing heavy snowballs;
happy angels will be heard on gelid gulls,
but who minds waiting in the bitter cold...
when a Divine Child comes down to redeem the sinful world?
Entered in Carol Sunshine Brown's contest,
" Fire And Ice "
Written by Andrew Crisci
on 12/ 3/ 2012
Alone and cold,
So cold when alone,
Can't find my way.
All I want is a
Little bit of sight,
A small glow, just
Some warmth by
A light,calmly showing
Me my way.
Guiding my souless
And cold heart
Safetly home to stay.
Loved and wanted...
I'll be someday.
White dust piled high
the chill goes right through the bone
frigid temperatures.
~*~
Cautiously I tread down a path paved of nightmares
Dark trees with gnarled branches
Marked with loneliness
Stained with loss
Misery hangs in the air
Despair trails down imaginary forest walls
Walls from which cries for help seep
Bottomless crevices of broken dreams
Abraded emotions
Poisoned souls
Frightening images paralyze
Petrified eternally, mentally, physically
Sounds of crushed aspirations whisper like an evil cry
Hopes and dreams turn to dust,desecrated
Envy runs as thick as poison
Eating away at logic
Sensibility all but gone
Drowning in abhorrent past
Still haunting traversly hanging overhead
No sign of depreciation in sight
Decayed by wear and tear
Frayed edges barely hanging on
Shadows of raven colored streaks reach out
Wanting to strip all promises
Silent prayers to the heavens in protest and anguish
Screams that resemble wounded animal
Howls of suffering rise through frigid winds
Plaguing anticipation as you echo into the night
Heart beating wildly pounding like a fist
Screaming through leaves
Awaiting reply
Answered by silence...
Feeling your cold, dead eyes
Following me, do I run? can I hide?
Like a disease slowly it begins to decompose
Rotting like wood aged over time
Till its all but gone...
~*~
For your deepest darkest poem Contest
Sponsored Poet Destroyer A.
walking my two dogs
in a rare southern snowstorm
frigid warm feeling
the frigid air snaked across
my skin and left it tingling
with frostiness
the windchill scoffed at me
with it's hautiness as the air
swirled around me
I seek shelter and refuge
from the intensely
frigid elements
Pet called Kat “very angry wasp thing”
Kat said if she’s waspish mind her sting
“Do you wear it in tail?”
“In tongue, if talk of tales”
“What, with my tongue in your tail to wring”
+++++++
Inspired by Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew”, a wooing scene between
Petruchio and Katherine.
May 13, 2014
Form:Limerick
Fourth Place Win
Contest: Bawdy Miss Clawdy by Roy Jerden
Some forests never fear the fury of March bending a tree,
their Redwoods and Giant Sequoias provide good shelter
from winds and storms that occasionally begin at sea;
in this woodland, the wood thrush and the blue warbler
have made their home and they're happy to see a wanderer...
when night descends all sounds are muffled by the loud cooing
of owls with fluorescent eyes that scare the black and gray crows;
they keep on watching the faint shadows similar to fog rising.
In the depths of the densest forest stands a brown limestone hut,
where the white-bearded keeper carries his Michigan ax to cut
wood for the evening fire to keep hungry bears and wolves away;
he searches for sweet blueberries and raspberries walking slowly,
he finds some ripe papaws he'll roast with a tender yellow perch
he caught in a small pound by the shade of a reddish-brown birch.
I met pale-faced Tom two summers ago, we bumped into each other
on a winding trail that led to an open meadow wilder and greener
than the ones turned arid from intense sunlight with a straight line;
he complained about his loneliness and the longing for sunshine.
" Stop by anytime, I can share my adventures gladly, you can write them
as the hunting images take me back to the days when I steered the helm
of a ship with agile hands into the turbulent oceans testing my strength:
I was called captain brave, not born in an age of such fragility and dearth. "
And Tom went on with his long and exciting narrative, I listened...
somehow embodying his intrepid spirit, " Look at your surroundings,
Nature is so generous, it offers us wonderful gifts and teaches us grit;
if we obey its laws, it won't turn against us, and under these shady trees
that protect me as they always do: I expect no frigid days, only mild days. "
Tom glanced at the cloudless sky of noon; it made him happy, not sad. "
Goodbye Fall with all the auburn leaves of the reddest sunset,
goodbye crackling path where I met the last songbirds,
whose melody accompained me to winter's doors;
and with deep sadness I kept on looking back.
Welcome gloomy winter with short afternoons and long evenings;
watching the advancing shadows and loudly hearing
the furious sound of the squall rampaging the stately trees,
and making them weep when the icy rain comes down with lightining.
Sitting in a rattling, rocking chair, I peruse through pages of sunny places afar,
forgetting the dreariness of this frigid season and be consoled by a warm fire;
and still nostalgia abounds...thinking of the pleasant strolls of a past season,
which thrilled me with its colors, and through delight I justified my reason.
O winter, don't linger as you always have...shorten your stay, avoid foul play;
and could I ever stand a pale sun, hardly giving off with its luminiscence,
in this house hidden among the maples and the pines of a squalid valley?
Old winter, don't mislead me with days without snow...that's utter pretense!
Goodbye explorer fedora hat keeping my dreamer's head cool,
sparing my skin another ugly wrinkle, allowing late beauty to rule;
goodbye iced coffee sipped from my Big Apple plastic cup,
which I bought along Fifth Avenue in a crowded, variety shop.
Ummerciful winter, pity the desperate state I am in,
reduce the wrath of your devastation, step inside and to tell me your amazing tales...
hoping that I will write them down for everyone to read and enjoy for immortal ages;
relentless winter, reduce the dreariness of this frigid season.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Remember the feeling of all seasons.
Balmy wind, cloudy skies, brisk walks, snow, rain.
A fire burning near the icy pond,
skates crunching, scratching, clicking on the ice.
Bundled shadows slip along in moon light;
bellowing puffs of smoke filled monoxide.
Embers cooling, burning, burning brightly.
Hot ashes follow a dark smoky trail,
rising through clouds, above the icy pond,
vanishing in the frigid winter night.