Best Parka Poems

Pulled on the parka, and turned my face to the cold street.
Half running, half slipping, piece of toast hangin' from my mouth..
man oh man am...

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Frigid, knife-edged winds from the northwest
sweep down like hungry raptors on 
pewter gray skies. Feral eyed, keen on destruction.
Late May. Sullen skies discharge sleet and...

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(Part 2 of Trilogy for My Father)

We stand on cemetery Astroturf
strategically placed to spare us the dread hole,
snow scaling the tops of our shoes
to compete...

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When winter months become morose
And everything around is blue and froze
Gets disheartening even for the eskimos
Their morale starts to dwindle and decompose

They tread most lightly...

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THE EARTH BLEEDS

We need a little light and dark.
Our eyes but blur infinity blue,
as a cradle robs us of our spark
when we visualize variety’s few.

The...

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IMPRINTS
(Part 1 of Trilogy for My Father)

His shoes by the front door make me cry,
like his glasses resting atop an
unfinished crossword
and his toothbrush in its...

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Long ago, in the fastness of the north
lived a people known as the Inuit.
They lived in perpetual darkness.
Although they had heard of light from Crow
they...

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Nihonzaru waits for the sun, in the valley where steaming pools warm. This is the north, the far north of ice and snow and trembling...

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ROOFLESS


Incommensurable conditions

without shelter nor food,

winter storm clouds overhead

frigid chill deep within my bones,

a haphazard zipperless parka

down feathers withered ages ago,

trembling in the frost sans fire

hoping...

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A snowball bobbed upon the waves 
That raged just like a fireplace, 
And as it rested for a while 
A breeze blew in its face.

His...

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Through the Venetian's I spy the world
The well dressed lady on the way to work
An accountant or banker I guess
The man in the green parka...

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The cold changes
the weight of my steps.
Each door opens with glass.

Dogs bark in circles.
Milkfloats whine in electric.

My parka tired with old dirt.
The early moon carelessly...

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Cletus considered himself an expert angler, handy with reel and rod.
He'd landed ever'thing from wily rainbow trout to North Atlantic cod.
He'd fished the streams, rivers...

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Poems about Things that Break II
 
These are poems about things that break and/or shatter.
 
 
 
Water and Gold
by Michael R. Burch
 
You came...

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At a giraffe, like height eye level view: from a cold icy frosty windowsill,
3 stories high. I see a city forest full of snowy powdery...

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