Best Icebox Poems
~
Winter breathes in sepia tones along a lonely two lane street
divided amongst the sweeping frozen dunes
now forced into shouldered amnesty
Street lights shiver in snowcapped bonnets
while sidewalks sleep ‘neath blankets of flittering flakes
The air, frigidly crisp…moves of tiny chiffon sparkles dancing
Rooftops, plump and soft, show off their frosted padding
as evergreens find alabaster fingers tickling their branches
in chilled teasings and frozen dustings
Footprints, once there are gone, covered and recovered again
all evidence of life is erased beneath pearl clouded skies
and faint outlines of distant thoughts
White on black stripes drape in glacial wanderings
spanning the slush of asphalt weavings
in straight line piercings across the wintry landscape
January reigns brutal, subzero ponderings swirl
from high above the icebox wasteland, once brimming with color
now opaque in its arctic seasoned disguise…
~
Written from memory…no winter here. : )
Categories:
icebox, good night,
Form:
Free verse
Ambling thro' the museum today an object caught my eye,
Inviting me to pause and reminisce about a time gone by.
'Twas an old oaken icebox standing there on display.
That ancient relic served as the family refrigerator in its day.
I recollected that we had one like it when I was a tyke,
Growing up on the Hoosier farm on fabled Farmer's Pike.
It cooled the milk and cream and butter that Mom made,
To spread on fresh-baked bread with a tad of marmalade!
What a refreshing sight on a sweltering summer's day,
To see the iceman's truck slowly meandering our way,
Along Farmer's Pike, crystal-clear ice stacked on the truck,
And anticipating a sliver of ice to chomp on and suck!
Mom put a card in the window to show the amount of ice required.
The iceman took note of this and delivered the ice desired.
He'd carry a hundred-pound block of ice on his burly back,
As nonchalantly as if toting feathers in a gunny sack!
Iceboxes served their purpose and in museums they now repose.
Once in awhile you'll find them at flea-markets and antique shows.
Fancy refrigerators now cool the grub and make the ice.
The iceman's logo I yet recall, "Iceman's Ice Is Twice As Nice!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
icebox, nostalgia
Form:
Rhyme
It amazes me how much man has evolved
Yet, How little he has learned
All around the globe
Millions die of disease and starvation
While the ever so intelligent creature known as man
Spends millions upon millions of dollars every single day
Killing each other
Instead of finding cures for the ill or feeding starving children
Oh sure, we dabble in those efforts
But we are committed to killing each other
Governments all around the globe
Spend most of their money
On their armies
Either to defend or attack
Their enemies
Supposedly, the most intelligent creature on earth
The intellectual creature known as man
If I may go so far
Mans commitment to war and killing
Goes far beyond any one mans term in office
It goes far beyond any one mans lifetime
It goes far beyond any century or any one era
From beginning to end, top to bottom
East to west, north to south
Red, yellow, brown, black or white
Our commitment to killing each other
Is undeniable
How can a species that is smart enough to split atoms
Creating weapons that will kill millions
Still be stupid enough to do it?
And now I see on the science channel
That man has now devised the Platonic beam
A beam of light that just disintegrates the target in an instant
At what price you ask?
Well I don’t know but I reckon if we diverted that money
To say solar energy projects
They could probably put a solar energy system
On every home in the world for free
Thus solving the energy crisis
Not to mention food in the icebox and medicine in the cabinet
Because of course when you create such an amazing new weapon
You need an entire new type of ship to deploy it from
Thus is born the next generation of war birds
They jettison into space
Then go into super afterburner (A jet engine minus oxygen)
Which they said would reach like 20,000 miles an hour
So you could shoot halfway around the world
Disintegrate your enemy
And be home in time for supper
I believe when speaking of politics
It’s not a National Crisis
It’s a Global Epidemic
Categories:
icebox, history, life, loss, people,
Form:
Free verse
so smooth you are-
the thought of you soothe's down my throat.
milkshakes, mocha latte's and root beer floats...
baby you are my chocolate chip, you're my honey dip
...and I just love the way your cream is whipped...
butter pecans, hot fudge and caramel
I love your taste and your sweet unforgettable smell...
everytime after tasting you...my mind dwells...
on the rainbow colored sprinkles placed upon you
there's no other flavor I wanna try beyond you...
hot syrup oozing all over you
-no matter cold or hot...you're my fondue
baby you're so good, I want double scoops of you
you chill my body in this heat
my favorite dessert, my favorite treat...
without your taste, I'm incomplete
- you give me this feeling-
I never felt...
and when I have you, my heart just melts
...I'll put you in my icebox to preserve you
you taste so good, sometimes I wonder if I deserve you...
slowly churned, soft served and home made...
...I like many kinds...but you're perfect just the way you're made.
I'll place you in my cone and put a cherry on your top
cause baby you're just like icecream...
good to the last drop!
Categories:
icebox, imagination, love, passion, love,
Form:
Verse
The cloying sangria
of freesias
invades the screen.
Amber bees whine
in wastrel air
like breezeless fans.
My shirt
is porcelain skin.
I dangle one metronome leg
off the arm
of a wicker chair
on the porch
as icebox rivulets
trickle down my sides.
In a far corner
dead flowers
curl
in a glass vase.
Categories:
icebox, life, summer,
Form:
Imagism
A seething summer morning in the oil boom trailer park
Oral Roberts on the radio with the gospel told by Mark
The reek of raw petroleum is everywhere around
We little oil trash urchins play marbles on the ground
He drives out here most every day around the hour of nine
Checking all the trailer windows for a little cardboard sign
He parks the canvas-covered truck and dons his leather vest
Throws a tow sack o'er his back and shows his Sunday best
Down the drive comes Danny, on his mighty motor bike
Hanging on the handlebars, his bigger brother Mike
The engine makes a ton of noise, a dandy double stroke
Two baseball cards and clothespins, hitting every spoke
Our ragamuffin gang was gathered, just waiting for the time
To contrive our evil strategy and carry out our crime
“The iceman, the iceman!”, I hear my sisters say
“Y'all be quiet!”, I hiss to them,” You'll give us all away!”
The iceman sidles round the truck and casts the canvas back
Scores a hundred-pounder block and cleaves it with a whack
Tongs the icy burden to his back and laughs at what is left
Chunks and chips of frozen jewels, the targets of our theft
We want so hard to play it cool and act like we don't care
All our mouths fill up with drool and it's tricky not to stare
The iceman winks his eye at me and hides a little grin
Then walks up to the trailer door where mother lets him in
The moment that the door slams shut, the bandits make their play
With eyes lit up, we whoop and shout like kids on holiday
We suck up all the chunks and chips and with our bellies iced
We swagger off to brag about our frosty jewelry heist
It's true we didn't have a lot, perhaps enough to just scrape by
But the visit from the iceman was like Christmas in July
And when I pass through oilfield country, it never ceases to amaze
How the scent of raw petroleum brings back those icebox days
January 30, 2013
Categories:
icebox, childhood, growing up, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Mawmaw's icebox fruitcake sliced
Expose those colorful candied fruits
coarsely diced and smell so very nice
Sweetened condensed milk doesn't dilute
Chopped pecans and raisins~tasters recruit
How about you?
Recipe:
I box Graham Crackers crushed
Add three cups chopped dried candied fruits(different colors)
Add 3/4 cup raisins
Add 1 1/2 cups of chopped nuts your choice
One cup of miniture Marshallows
1 can of sweetened condensed milk poured over all
Stir until all is moist..If not quite enough add either
Marachino Cherry liquid or sweet milk
It needs to be a little sticky
Keep the Graham Cracker box and cut the top wide part on three sides
to make a flap, line the box with wax paper
Press the mixture into the box and seal up with cling wrap
Keep refrigerated until ready to serve..
This is a very good fruit cake, moist and very rich
A very small slice is all needed with some milk or coffee
When
Categories:
icebox, food,
Form:
Quintain (English)
The child was getting tired of being teased
Words flowed from her brother's mouth unfiltered
Had he more vocabulary he'd spew.
She didn't care on that morning if she pleased
She went to the icebox unbewildered
milk threw
We all stood in shock, except her brother
Drenched to the degree of being drowned, whew!
But equal to his cruel out of kilter
words. He's thinking there's ways other to
stir stew
Here in the south sometimes we say of a person that they are stirrer of trouble and we used some different terminology(vocabulary) sometimes.
I used icebox instead because refrigerator would not fit, so going back to my youth when some people still had an icebox.
My understanding of this form is 11 lines. Ten syllables per line except for the 6th line and the 11th line which are suppose to be two one syllable words or a one two syllable word which both syllables are pronounced equally. Really don't understand stressed and unstressed. LOL
Rhyme scheme is : a,b,c,a,b,c d,c,b,d,c
Categories:
icebox, anger, family,
Form:
Curtal Sonnet
Funny the way it was then
Feisty teen who loved sweets
Fine icebox fruitcake served
Fruit quite different mixed
From citrus~lemons, limes
Flipped fruit flew from teen's lips
Fantasy taste was gone
Categories:
icebox, teen,
Form:
Free verse
In the beginning
There was love,
the countryside kind of loving
where we laid out in an old hammocks
under the shadow of the sycamores tree,
feeling that cool breeze on our face
it was just a little taste
of the country living;
a large pitcher of lemonade in the icebox
Nana’s laundry blowing in the wind
Everything back then seem so innocent and benign
my friend and I were on a natural high
we giggle, guffaws, from chuckles to cackles
as we lean our head back: and our laughter
were as loud as the dogs barks;
while the whole flock of chickens cackle loudly
in a disorderly manner;
However, we held each other so tight
Until the stars came out and whinge about us
Suddenly, granddad yelled,
“Small Point!
It’s time to come inside”
I remember you hid under the shed
In the beginning
There was love and twenty years later
Five children.
The Poem have its own vernacular?
however, do enjoy the read.
Categories:
icebox, beautiful, culture, dedication, first
Form:
Dramatic Verse
I would cry a river to be away from despear,
I would drink an ocean to have the aches i feel disappear.
I would reel in the moon to have the shackles removed from my feet,
And their is no mountain i wouldn't climb to stop his grinding of my teeth.
I'd walk around the world to hear the noises stop,
I'm prepared to eat the eyes of an eagle to prevent my heart attack.
Or rob a bank , or touch the sun, or cut a star in two,
I'd rather burn in fire than stay this way with you.
I would tour the ocean floors, tear my heart out of my chest,
Take a bullet to my head, Or drill a whole through my left breast.
If it would take away the turmoil, and wash the mud from my brain
And cleanse my heart of impurities, like a treasure washed clean by rain.
Or if it would shine the sun, that would in turn warm my heart,
And melt away this icebox, that turned me cold and torn apart.
I'm desperate to erase the memories, of hurt and loveless times,
Of empty dreams and promises, of things that were never mine.
Just tel me what to, no matter how impossible it may seem,
I just want this feeling to be over, I want the reality of my lifelong dream.
Categories:
icebox, depression, heart, heart, me,
Form:
ABC
the inlaws and outlaws have left
the turkey has so much less heft
got pies for the flies
and naps for the eyes
the icebox has suffered from theft
but
still got ‘nuff leftovers to make peach gobbler
Categories:
icebox, nonsense,
Form:
Limerick
Curry. Cumin. Saffron.
Mmmm, the hallways always smell of spice,
her seventy-year-old body perfecting the rhythm of movement
from icebox to oven in her efficiency kitchenette.
Tangerine wall paint cracks and mixes carelessly
with bits of spice yet lingering in the air; it
follows her, this aroma that eats the eater,
dancing around her skirts
like faeries honoring their faerie queen.
She knows this, and smiles at the sliver of sun peeking through her window.
Down the corridor
people begin their ritual of recognition, then sniffing,
and finally a smile that reveals anticipation.
No one goes hungry inside Apartment A6 and everyone has seconds.
Lunch and dinner, breakfast too
if a body is moving about as dawn surfaces.
Though small, her main floor seems to expand
beyond the boundaries of walls,
everyone cross-legged and eager to devour dishes
few could pronounce and none could forget.
A legend among the two hundred desperate palates;
today, however, souls wander lost through the hallways
because the lucky have snaked their way into heaven
and left the masses to a barren, tasteless fate.
As the onions, okra and potatoes, flavored
with a hint of saffron and even less ginger,
entice bodies five deep and ten across,
our greedy fingers and mouths offer no thoughts of others
going without while dripping sauce falls onto our legs
and Berndi seems content with the pleasure she’s wrought.
Categories:
icebox, food, friendship, funny, passion,
Form:
Narrative
MY SIBLINGS' FATHER
JUDGE BURDON
other children feared monsters under their bed
i feared the one living under our roof.
his hair was nimbus black
with a storm's thunder in his voice.
his fists were freight train brown
ball bearing knuckles
frostbite blue was his touch
with empty icebox eyes
his smile untrusted
growling words spoken like tangled spaghetti
he was my mother's husband
my siblings' father
a childhood of baseballs never thrown
bruises and shattered bones medicated with lies
happiness diluted with tears
in a house with screams undetected
when asked what i wanted to be
i testified "far from here"
now, fiber optic home front news
faceless words
cancer eating away at your life
with the fury of a piranha
your disease now my champion
fighting with the courage i was unable to muster
your epitaph written in my adolescence
while plotting your midnight homicide
again you leave
unaccountable for your actions
i'm left to wrestle with the demons
not the strenght to forgive
my memory too scarred to forget
i'll keep the battle lines drawn
your monument
let the puzzle piece fall where it may
good bye old man
you'll be missed like a pit vipers bite
your pain can no longer touch me
from the grave.
Categories:
icebox, child abuse,
Form:
Free verse
Unforgiving cemented ground
Chaotic yearning echos 'round
Breathing seething sour fume
Hollow icebox makeshift tomb
Categories:
icebox, animal, death, dog, murder,
Form:
Free verse