A parallel universe, intricately crafted by God-
A realm where the rhythm of existence is inverted:
One day devoted for diligent work and six for rest.
Here, perpetual, invisible threads unite us all,
Insulating a peninsula from the chaotic hodge.
Categories:
insulating, philosophy,
Form: Free verse
I once visited an old copper town
in the upper peninsula of Michigan.
The U.P. as the Yoopers say
And on the U.P. it winters from
October to April’s end
where saloons and
vacant churches pock each
devoutly sodden block with
a piss-penny for your thoughts.
The hay was made there
in the 1890’s, bronzed and
plaqued in a shag-city square
gray beyond grief
-faced for no reason
it remembers.
It is a compelling obscurity.
that I will visit
again, one day
when I have
less to lose and
more to forget.
There the parking meters
stand away from the curbs
by big brick hollows,
beyond the plow’s carve
so high must pile
the insulating snow.
Categories:
insulating, depression, forgiveness, travel, winter,
Form: Free verse
resistance is not coarse currents;
electromagnetic ferments,
whooshing waves, subatomic spell
insulating amber, cloned crest
neither is resistance a bridge;
inky intervals at bruised bliss
bounty binders by gores girded
lanky lime, felon feast aided
resistance is all but a feast;
mystic mood burnished'n sassy spree
el'vated will, Siamese sway
commedia dell'arte engraved
resistance is rhythmic sway;
a porous plague with sundry traits.
'20:06:23:17:57
Note: of rusty resistance.
Categories:
insulating, wisdom,
Form: Sonnet
I run toward Lois in my dreams saving her
Protecting her, insulating her from the big bad guy
But alas, she disappears moments before I arrive
She was a good friend, we had so many laughs.
She had the best laugh in the neighborhood
I still hear her laugh in my dreams.
She died at the hands of a madman when she was fourteen.
Her body left under a bridge for younger children to find
For a town to find, so they could grieve and pity her mother
I look beyond her death to her life
Remembering her tittering smile and her love for animals
Trying to live my life the best I can, as I am now living for both of us.
Categories:
insulating, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Prose Poetry
Cold
Frozen
Snow and Ice
On everything
Slippery to walk
Insulating the ground
Winter has brought a stillness
With skies the color of slate gray
For now, the creation is frozen
Spring waits to be reborn another day
Heidi sands
12/30/18
Categories:
insulating, seasons, spring, winter,
Form: Etheree
My Aunt Ethel told me
that nothing rivals
our family quilts
“Not for sheer artistry
or skill in design... BUT,”
here she leaned in
for emphasis-
“the secret is
the material itself!”
For nothing could rival
the intense radiance
of colors in florescent hues
And nothing could rival
the endless patterns
of electrifying
sometimes-psychedelic variety
And nothing could rival
the insulating quality
of thick fibers, so effectively
shielding against the cold
No, nothing could rival
the varied textures
the swirls, the swoops, geometric shapes
lines and grooves
“Yes,” she told me, confidingly-
“...the very best quilts are made of
polyester pant-suits!”
Categories:
insulating, humor, humorous, silly,
Form: Free verse
Coolness
Sublime coolness
How I missed you
Flowing into the house
Your feathery touch
Brushing my face
Lifting spirits
Coolness
Filling the body’s vacuum
Inhaling and
Exhaling too
Breathing you in
Letting you go
Chest rising and falling
Walking through coolness
Arms cut the air
They displace it
Then place it
In a basket
Like fruit
Stored against winter’s hunger
Licking at air’s coolness
As it flows over and under
Like a kitten’s tongue
Lapping the milk’s sweetness
Or a child’s energetic gorging
Of a cone’s silkiness
Whether vanilla, strawberry or chocolate
Coolness
Not yet coldness
Nature’s balm
Building a nest with the
Thinnest of sticks
Insulating, protecting from
Winter’s frostiness
KDK
100th version
Categories:
insulating, beauty, body, cool, emotions,
Form: Free verse
The paint crawls like syrup tears
buttery beads of color seeping away exterior fears
an unfinished work of art starting to take shape
each stroke of freshly lathered walls freshens away the hate
edged canvases rich in luxurious motif:
mink grey, indigo midnight, burnt sienna, and golden leaf
the visage flows like evocative rivers of blazing scope
caressive and possessive of an insulating hope
the window's breath carries inside a scintilla of life
as it dines on the bones of a hapless world's locked out strife
four walls covered in the lifeblood of wretched cans
their contents released like water from broken dams
beneath the walls the brushes lie rested and still
their wooden handles paint stained and bristled
all the result of what started as yesterday's motivation
today my world inside four walls-- a painted salvation
February 24, 2016
Categories:
insulating, art, solitude,
Form: Couplet
fooling them with a simple façade
- the make-up, the mask
a true charade
a player you are
pretence the game
the playcard a joker –
a shield against shame
insulating the inner, framing Fear
for finding it insuperable
the mountain you rear
but the mountain is not
the authentic obstacle in life
our mindset rather
we should conquer, should knife
this cast of mind you yourself must obliterate
‘cause no other master
the master of your fate
Categories:
insulating, emotions,
Form: Verse
The signs are all around me—
skies are suddenly gray-white,
and I smell snow is coming,
maybe on this very night…
************************
What is this ambiance of awe
when viewing those first flakes
swirling softly t’ward the earth—
a white blanket soon to make?
It’s not as tho’, these many years,
I’ve not witnessed this same scene—
snow piling high on field and trees,
and grass no longer green.
There is no explanation
for the pleasure I now feel
as I listen to this old house creak,
and think it no big deal.
The warmth and coziness inside
is multiplied ten-fold,
and I treasure it above those things
bought with purest gold.
Each flake serves such purpose
as it tumbles to the ground
covering seeds and crops to yield
while making nary a sound.
Protection from the temperatures
dipping way down low—
snow insulating ground from frost
spread liberally e’re it goes.
And I, like many others,
who endure long months of snow,
get weary of it later on
when it curtails where I go.
But oh, thru’ frosted window pane
reflecting fireplace glow,
it fills my heart with wonder,
as I welcome the first snow.
Tamara Hillman
©2011
Categories:
insulating, snow,
Form: Rhyme
Crisp cold air moves in slowly expectedly.
How nice it can feel after long hot haze filled days of summer.
Gradually the chill embraces all.
And all succumbs to mother winters icy graces.
Trees lay dormant.
Water rests in a shiny crystal state.
And the ground sleeps under its insulating blanket.
Not all rests during these grey times.
So much more grows and thrives then the darkened cold ground reveals.
But like the ground it must remain covered insulated from all around it.
For if it is seen it shall not survive the blustery Gaze that it will be subjected to.
so it sits waits... but growing.
An enigma in a world full of certainties
It lies unmoving through many months of the grey and grows stronger and larger
with each blast of icy cold.
Forever longing for the thaw.
Yet knowing it may never arrive.
As the days grow longer it waits, waits for the summer perhaps then it can bloom.
Taking comfort in the fact.
That although the release into the sun would be oh so freeing.
That the cold grey is its mother and here it can stay forever.
Hidden continuing to grow never to be harmed isolated,
OH winter longing's
Categories:
insulating, hope, lost love, lovelonging,
Form: Free verse
Her tears are real, clearly champagne and crystal,
delicately micro frozen upon her quiescent face;
transparent and invisible, deceives the naked eye,
there for fleeting instants, gone without a trace.
Although their authenticity may well provoke debate
it does not mean they are not truly there;
and though her circuits may be closed in insulating snow
it does not mean she cannot truly care.
What stands between her frailty and the fierce Siberian winds
that prowl perimeters of her heart and freeze
with the coldest chill of salt mines and the emptiest terrain
that brings armies of the hardest to their knees?
The promised blast from a slaughterhouse door upon her naked back
congeals the blood within her veins until it will not run;
emotions thus solidify to guard against the hurt
whilst she begs the thaw of body heat, the passion of the sun.
Yet all the fear and wonder of Winter's destitute domain,
wraps her up in solitude and sets her soul apart;
and she prays for someone with the patient, warmest scalpel kiss
to shear away the frost from her aching, ice-cream heart.
Categories:
insulating, life, loss, lost love,
Form: Verse