Floe Poems - Poems about Floe

I can only imagine how n'ice e-z floe... Tubby in the calving throes breaking free and clear shepherding, milking, and honing rambunctious as bovine bris versus being stymied courtesy cow - wordly bull aiming writer's block for drought of creativity. Asper this instance, when a dearth of ideas like a charred bait oven finds me (a Brahms man) looking Bach at drawing board...

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Duck-walking on sheets of ice, only the sky just above my lips is melting. I move forward by counting the parked cars. A bundled-up woman I knew from last winter waves at me, she is way across a slithering street. She was in service in Vietnam, she nursed, this part of her I remember only. Her weathered face underneath her mouth-covering scarf is...

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How... Floe N'ice Tubby In The Throes... (breaking free of writer's block) Asper this instance, when a dearth of ideas like a charred bait oven finds me looking Bach at drawing board and/or the clock as if inspiration can be found teasing out ...

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Ebb-less Floe The ice floes will not return and he will never leave. 2/19/2016 submitted to – In one line (monoku #7) write what you see or feel – Poetry Contest sponsor – Poet Destroyer A...

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I had lived on the ice-floe for about a year My world had become absolutely geometric--- everything within my vision was linear. And the whiteness had taken me past the point of madness. Learning the language of the wetness of the wind, of a smell in the air, (there are no shadows on the floe), and, beneath my feet, the ride of...

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The (Sahara) has its women, if only in its vapors and dust devils, But on the floe you don't think of the flesh, and you seldom remember it, Except that which, with bare hand and bare wit, you can catch and rip apart with your teeth. There are nights, though. Quiet (for the floe) when the pain of being human and...

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NOTE: This poem is a humoruos stab at PMS from a mans point of view I can see your blood boiling through the blades I once called eyes, they were once beautiful like jewels now they hurt my deep insides. cutting at my guts and like a noose on my lungs; your words seek like bullets your mouth like...

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06 February 2010 Ice Floe The glacial epoch is now part of history The spectacle of glacier widely seen in the Arctic A habitat for Arctic mammals and where the trees end This is the land of the midnight sun A huge mass of the glacier is shrinking Detached to become an iceberg And now melting into chunks of an ice floe Resembling a...

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