Best Slush Poems
“ You know; you look like someone else ”
Was the first thing she said
I never did ask, just who, I reminded her of
Say romance fornicated in the guttering of a candle
And its flame lay in all the rivulets of melted wax
We were the twin coupling of paper straws
As we sipped the sweet nectar
And our tongues lay heavy laden with its sugar
So we basked in the reflection
Of each others mirror
It still troubles me
How in one another’s puppetry
We were just so much the condensation of syrup
Clinging cold to the cardboard cup
And even though our fingers
Could have shamed the bonfires we built
We were nothing more than a mirage
On the horizons of love
Promise me your soul in forever wants
Between the sheets of passion and someone else
All wept in falsehoods with the petals of lilies
And heavy laden tongue now lay split in iron railings
“ You know, you remind me of someone ”
It troubles me still
How we sank with such poetic and tragic quills
Deep to the depths of our own dark inkwells
Never having breached onto a naked shore
Never having ever really, truly, held each other
We were a spasm, a searching for
Alluding to a succinct intonation of meaning
Written playful, colourful on headlines and posters
Fast food prerequisites
To fill the emptiness
Momentarily in some desperation of sincerity
We shared each other’s
Slush Puppy
I'm never really in a rush
To traipse through gushy, mushy slush
Like that on any city street
Where puddles form from melting sleet.
The passing traffic sends up sprays
Of wetness that's seen better days
To splatter on your favorite coat
(And splash avoidance seems remote).
So in your boots just stride right through
And do what all New Yorkers do,
Which is to shrug or maybe kvetch
'Til we complete this slushy stretch.
Brown late winter slush
Wrapping roads in lukewarm hugs
Gloomily cozy
(a 7-5 Trochee)
Snow falls down; then comes the rain.
Wet flakes fall and drown
when that rain, like a refrain
once again comes down.
Then I step onto the street.
There's no snow to crush.
Mere shoes don't protect one's feet
from cold puddled slush!
For the "The Doesn't fit" Poetry Contest of Carol Eastman
I run through the white
Winter snow
Running from you
You want me to do horrible things
With you
Trudging through snow
Very hard thing to do
You shout out my name
I keep going
A shot is fired
I scream
It hadn't hit me
You call my name
Telling me to come back
I don't listen
To you
If I come back
You'll hit me
You'll make my life even worst
Than before
Another shot is fired
It hits my hand
I scream in pain
I almost fall
But keep going
I know
I will not get away
Never have
Never will
You put drugs in my food
Make me almost paralyzed
Unable to fight you off
I can't feel a thing
Except your heavy weight on me
I try to scream
Your mouth covers mine
I hate you for that
Not letting me speak
On my own
I hear a noise
It's your belt
Coming undone
You take your shirt off
Unbutton mine
You start kissing my chest
My face is covered in tears
I want you off of me
Then you get off
I look at you
You're staring at me
Taking your jeans off
You grab my legs
I try to keep them shut
You just open them again
You rub yourself
Against me
I try to scream again
You put your hand over my mouth
And start to laugh
Telling me to be quiet
You unbutton my jeans
Unzip my zipper
And slide them down my legs
Im completly naked
So are you
I close my legs one more time
You yank them open
Telling me Im being difficult
You lay down on me
And bite my lips
You go down
Lower lower
You bite my neck
You bite my breasts
You are a sick person
You look down
And make it go in
In and out
In and out
I start to sob
You start to laugh
I hate you
I hate you so much
You scream out my name
My hand hurts so much
Im losing blood
Too much
You shoot one last time
It hits my side
I scream and fall
I lay their
Wanting to get this over with
I put my hand to my side
Pull it back
I see blood
I hear crunching snow
You're coming closer
You roll me over
I stare into your eyes
They are black
Lifeless eyes
You start to yell at me
You hit me
Many many times
Snow starts to fall
Down on my face
Everything is getting darker
Its almost pitch black
One last strike
I died
You keep hitting me
Even though you know
Im dead
You step back to look
At my body
You see the scars and marks
You created
Then you see
My blood
Going around my body
That white snow
I fell in
Is now
Nothing but
A red puddle
Of slush
The Chef who jerks off in the soup
Speeds up the conversion to poop
It adds to the taste
But not to the waist
Though your chicken noodle may droop
Susan Lawrence wanted to know
The life of an old Eskimo
He got so excited
His igloo ignited
And melted away in the snow
Like a mouth full to drooling,
the day sucks boots and tires
sloshing remnants of Winter debris
beside the slush filled paths.
Dreary beyond hope of snowballs
Dangerous beyond the pristine slip of skate.
No possible good emotion can come
would dare revel in the mess.
With half frozen tears the sky drapes
the barren maples striving without hope.
Longing for a more lucid day where
upturned lips hold tulip kisses.
I watched the snow fall
As it grasped the tree branches
It left a wonderland here
I watched the rain fall
As it washed tree branches bare
The slush on the ground is deep
Heidi Sands
1/13/23
Olaced 4th in The Winter Sedoka Contest. Sponsor: Charles Messina
Life filled with a feeling of happiness
With dirt, slush, sordidness
The cleanliness existing apart
From everything else in the yard
The ambience of soggy topsoil
Feeling so complete thus mindful
Not one worry
No agony
In mud with dandy doggie
Oh! how we love the Christmas
Tree
So decorated for all to
See
The holly too with it’s berries
Bright
And the snow so crisp and
White
But not Jack Frost who nips your
Nose
Or the slush that wets your
Toes
Nor the wind that burns your
Ears
And also fills your eyes with
Tears
Though winter time who is the
Best
And always stands out from the
Rest
Yes Santa Claus and Rudolf
Too
Who Christmas Eve will visit
You
This morning’s slush is melting
From last night’s dust of snow
Which, since it wasn’t pelting,
Left little trace, although…
Some little mounds keep clinging
To surfaces of grass,
Enough for snowball flinging
Before the urge might pass.
This weather’s awfully fickle –
It almost feels like spring,
But it’s more like a tickle,
Awaiting winter’s zing.
Still, I’m out by the river,
Just soaking up the sun
Which the heavens did deliver
To get all the melting done.
winter's white turns rain
puddles fill to brim with slush
soggy socks need washed
snow melting slowly
drops of water fall from car
snow turns into slush
In younger days, if in a rush,
I’d race right over frozen slush
Without a thought of danger there
Of which I should be made aware.
Yet nowadays, I view the street
When there’s been snow or hail or sleet
As someplace where such dangers hide,
I might be better off inside.
I’ll venture out, but take each step
So gingerly, without the pep
That usually propels my gait
Each day when I perambulate.
Around me, all the younger crowd
Still walk like doubt is not allowed,
Especially since city folk
Most always seem to go for broke.
At least I know that once the ice
Has melted, I will not think twice
Of moving with my normal strut,
No fear of falling on my butt.