connected by a net of misconception
venomous spider’s webs
spun a murky vapour
synapses raged and festered in a Self
frozen on autopilot with anger and regret
an endless loop of thoughts and feelings
simply refused to thaw and forgive
permafrost allowed no seasons
subglacial lakes slushed an underworld
of resentment in nervous fear and self-pity
irrevocably he had always been a hoarder
collector of trivia banality and serious gloom
icicled intransigence frostbitten mind
so much that hellfire appeared
to be a welcome proposition
he had ingested incorporated inhaled
so very much nonsensical rubbish
there hardly was a tiny space
for respite and inspired respiration
he nearly suffocated on himself
out he breathed out from his lungs
his spirit soul and desperation
and there was just a small fog of warmth
that graced his near expiring Self
a meltdown of considerable strength
mist of recovery and heat of the moment
that he promised himself to live
reside in the here and now
one day at a time
Categories:
icicled, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
Monochrome winds fantail snowdrifts.
Fleck-churned sparks maw feathery flights
and a howling backdraft
spikes matted fur.
Pawing winds spring traps clenched,
injurious icicled haunches hollowed.
A smothering whiteness whistles
through yellow teeth, a smoldering
witness from snow that isn't snow,
(one homeless person's jaw drops, he looks up,)
I wolf down yogurt that drips off the plastic sides,
whitening the Los Angeles sunshine
where some homeless rest on the reflective sidewalk,
all but one, the nimbus of his mouth quakes.
Categories:
icicled, anxiety, poverty,
Form: Free verse
out in icicled darkness
softly i gave myself to the shadows
my nodding head beating
to her singing hurts
as i make shapes
breathing sharpened
mist catching
moon eyelashes
as they flutter
bashfully
Categories:
icicled, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Brexit Sonnet No. 48
‘Weather Report’
I’m the ‘Beast from the East’, a blizzard of painful degree,
The bus and the train now refuse to adhere to the clock.
With a blast of my breath, your diaries I now can wipe free,
And postman’s delayed; I make silent his regular knock.
Schools I can shut with a blink of my icicled eye,
And wildlife I kill with a beat of my cold hearted heart.
Bills I will raise through the roof as my snow passes by
And misery I bring, as power lines and cables I part.
Events I can cancel and trash, I do what I like.
I’m the sting in the tail, winter’s last roll of the dice.
But humbled I be when I see the Beast next to strike,
Armed to the teeth and not pleasant nor patient nor nice.
The ‘Beast that is Brexit ‘; I’m frightened so quickly withdraw.
Beast do not leap till après my imminent thaw.
©Keith Murphy
Categories:
icicled, political,
Form: Sonnet
When birds mass in ebony flight,
and skim brightness from the sun,
light shall not flee your eyes.
When laughter fades from the languages of men,
and ears have forgotten song,
I shall hear your voice.
When nothing can be embraced but the bones of fire,
and mouths are icicled,
the warmth of your body shall still flicker in mine.
If ever the tides are too tired to reach shore,
and sleep is heaped upon the seas,
you shall flow through me.
Boughs may flare naked like broken veins,
and dead leaves flood every road,
but once upon a tomorrow,
my way back to you I shall find.
Categories:
icicled, dedication, hope, i miss
Form: Free verse
March Madness
March shakes her icicled head
exhales Winter’s last gasp
chills clouded moisture
sheds her stinging tears,
icy pellets of adieu.
©John G. Lawless
3/31/2017
Categories:
icicled, farewell, march,
Form: Free verse
Winter
Frosted forests
Shimmy and shiver
Glistening gloriously in icicled
Dresses
Categories:
icicled, seasons, weather, winter,
Form: Cinquain
Icicled seashells
Future moments of Summer
waiting to be thawed.
Categories:
icicled, nature, sea,
Form: Haiku
As I look out my frosted window
my breath fogs it over.
My warm fingers ease
the minute water droplets away,
to reveal mother nature's majesty.
Powerlines struggle under the weight
of her breath.
Winter's icy grip has it's fingers
entwined upon the landscape.
Brown trees peek through
their glassine envelop.
The sun's bright rays
reflect off the icicled rooftops.
Children slip and slide up the hill
only to come racing down
with shouts of glee.
I will enjoy this day
looking through the window
of my warm and toasty home
knowing the day will not last.
For now, I will only revel
in the beauty of the land.
Categories:
icicled, nature, seasons,
Form: Free verse