Long Defrost Poems

Long Defrost Poems. Below are the most popular long Defrost by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Defrost poems by poem length and keyword.


Rebuild Your Border

My heart goes weary; shrinking, 
I can't think right. 
My thoughts float sinking, 
It won't go filming delight. 
When all we build for all, 
Break into pieces and flew in dust. 
We wish but it is time for rebirth!

The inner dinner of the believer, 
Is a threat to standard. 
The outer doubter of the sinner, 
Is a blessing to substandard! 
When all we build for all, 
Break into pieces and flew in dust. 
We wish but it is time for rebirth!

Washing all hearts should become our aim;
In all words, acts are more of success
Crying with kindled souls turned a wailing game;
In all acts, words are more of distress. 
When all we build for all, 
Break into pieces and flew in dust.  
We wish but it is time for rebirth!

Comfort cleanse depression, 
Without traces of GUISE. 
StaIwart brings impression, 
Beyond shadows of DYES. 
When all we build for all, 
Break into pieces and flew in dust. 
We wish but it is time for rebirth!

Now, we will please His WAYS, 
Despite all our natures. 
Then, we won't remove His BAIZE, 
No matter how hard to bear a nomenclature. 
When all we build for all, 
Break into pieces and flew in dust. 
We shall at will go for rebirth!

Hallelujah! He nailed himself this  the cross;
For us, He endured  the BEING loss. 
Hosanna! He embraced all the wounds;
Not a single curse, His efforts are been crowned. 
Yet, for us are his pains, 
To make sure we are ordained. 
Lest, we may not have the gains.

Unto all is a life and its style, 
Be ye man or woman. 
Unto all is choice and its cost, 
Be ye strong or weak. 
Yet, for us are His pains, 
To make sure we are ordained. 
Lest, we may not have the gains.

Don't be afraid of their smiles, 
The enemies of great Aaron. 
Rather, be joyous that they defrost, 
Hence, doors of pretence freak. 
Yet, for us are His pains, 
To make sure we are ordained. 
Lest, we may not have the gains.

He standout as the only One, 
Pleading at the right hand of God
Despite our betrayals like Simeone, 
He cares for all against every odd. 
Happy to know you are willing... 
Gracious you, should not lean on SELF. 
Be open and call for His help killing... 
Every hindrance knowledge binds on shelf.
Form: Rhyme


New Life

My world was an endless cold winter, filled with bitter misery and pain. The type of pain that couldn’t so easily be taken away, the type that ate at the ends of your soul. It was the pain that came and held within, blacking your soul, your existence. Angry winds howled and blew all around,  making visibility and sanity slowly vanish. 

When I thought I would give up, let the cold sink in and freeze what little flesh I had left, I came across two tinny fires. The wind kept trying to blow them out, but they were strong and fierce and kept flickering their glorious, heated lights. Seeing those sad little fires fight to shine, made me want to fight for them.

I fought against the howling winds, ignoring how it pierced and sank it’s sharp teeth into my face. I helped build the fires large enough that when the howling winds came, they too howled in all their glory. They stood tall and glamorous, heating and warming all around. The snow and ice started to melt, tiny flowers grew in its spot. 

New life.

I lay down in the small patch by the fires, looking out to the rest of the frozen world. I see the winds beckoning to me, swirling around and around, whispering my name. I roll closer to the fire as a shiver runs down my spine. I try to bask in the heat. The screams carry on by the wind, sounding more like hisses than whispers.

Opening my arms, I embrace the much needed heat. Begging for it to defrost my bones and heart. I’m am nothing more than a corpse left by the destruction caused from my cruel winters war. My heart aches to beat once more, my bones shake with anticipation to move freely. I bury my face to drift asleep, knowing the fires will protect me. I hear the screams swirling in the wind, a constant reminder that they’ll always be there lurking and twisting.

My pile of bones are over grown with the baby plants sprouting to life. They cover me, wrapping around me, embracing me. The earthly smell fills me, engulfing me. I become a part of them as they are a part of me, infusing into one. I’m being reborn, giving a new life.
Form: ABC

Premium Member Eureka

Release the shelter of bare feet,
     rhinestones on big toes sparkle.
The tentacle-shine of sunwheat
     on the scrapyard-swig of river.

Like a sunflower, the mudlark
     shuts her eyes, complexion
surrenders to the sun’s spark
     as sighs rush about cool ankles.

This lackadaisical leisure lost
     to the whimsical call of wings.
Her playful ponderings defrost —
     she ponytails long cinnamon hair.

Wonders what the silt will give up
     today, muscles prepare for work out.
Long hours linger — she’s no buttercup.
     The slow rustle of water into the pan.

The seersucker-mud like a baby’s first
     shoe — she cannot wriggle out of them
and for this Eurekan-tub she thirsts.
     A simmering giggle at her search.

Tinkering with the gold dish —
     shuffling treasures in the round.
Precious stones ticklish,
     the swishing sound resplendent.

Her ancestors with wagons came,
     ready to obtain riches and lavish land,
in the cold-hearted chamber untame,
     traded ditches and shovels for pans.

Their memories roar in loss of their eyes
     in the tundra of time. What’s lost in mystery,
she hopes to find — their trinket goodbyes.
     What was the cost, for it was not her life.

Perhaps a broach of a great-great aunt —
     oh what pleasurable mint but repetition
of weeping, for surely the ghost would haunt
     but it would be a worthwhile footprint.

Her plum-warm cheeks enjoy the dive
     and swirl of her memory-seeking sojourn.
Her golden irises and vibrating fists survive
     peeking into the melodic riverbed’s thoughts.

Her tail swings with ebb and flow of seconds,
     like a cuckoo clock with precise repetition.
Surprised, the splash of a trout beckons —
     his stock contained in this friendly wave.

Up and down all day securing finds of ugly
     nails and twine, but then she finds a button.
A payday! It’s small and torn but lovely.
     Eureka! a Victorian star, a sign of life.

3/30/2020
Form: Rhyme

Why Oh Why

got work to do 
                                                feel like i have the flu
                            but got to go in anyway
                 
                     cant find my keys 
                                                about to sneeze
                 
                               at home i wish i could stay 

                      the wind is frosty 
                                                    just spilled my coffee

                                this is starting out to be a bad day

                      i cough and it hurts 
                                                      defrost dont work 

                                 and why dont my radio play
                    
  man! i got a flat
                                       and changing it hurt my back

                                                               but at least i can be on my way
                             
                    and now the car wont crank

                                                                  whew ! there's no gas in the tank
                
                            life is a funny game that we play 

trying not to cuss
                                                    
                                                  as i  chase down the bus 
when i ran into a kid with a sleigh

                           now i'm late for work 

                                                                 and everything hurts

but i have to act as if everthings ok

                                                                now im really tired

say what! im fired
                                             and i cant even get hazzard pay

well those are the breaks 
 
                                                    i gotta keep my faith 


    so all i can do now is pray
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Thanksgiving Dinner Gone Awry

It was my first Thanksgiving dinner as his wife
so I wanted the meal to be perfect in every way
But...trembling in fear, I cut my finger with a knife
It was the beginning of a day in piteous disarray

I didn't know a turkey would take so long to thaw
and I couldn't defrost the fat bird in the microwave
Agitated, I was afraid I'd have to serve it half raw
so, I parboiled it a while. My predicament was grave

The cranberries were cooking and started to pop
Then I noticed my sore finger was bleeding once more
Blood fell into the sauce pan; more than just a drop
Gotta serve it anyway. No time to go back to the store

My mother-in-law, Mary Ann, had a smirk on her face
She looks like a wild rabbit, both have wrinkled noses
I bedecked the table in my cloth of embroidered lace
finger bleeding again from thorns, darn those roses!

It's a Murphy's Law day for me cuz I've developed a tic
Face is twitching, but the turkey's roasting in the oven
People bustling in my kitchen. It's a comedy of slapstick
Cousin Benny wants a taste of my cornbread stuffin'

STUFFIN'? NO NO! I hadn't given the dish a thought
Could I make it from potatoes? I've got piles of those
I needed a drink; my frazzled nerves were distraught
Then sozzled Uncle Frank started taking off his clothes

We filled our plates as hubby, Jake, carved the bird
I gasped when I saw a bag of something on the platter
Mary Ann shrieked in laughter and shouted, "My word!!"
I had no clue it was in there. I became the Mad Hatter.

To the kitchen I retreated to ready the apple crumble
A laxative added to Mary Ann's  to give her the poops
After dinner she dashed and crashed in a nasty tumble
I smiled with satisfaction and simply exclaimed, "OOPS."
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Who Would Have Thought

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Could produce such a cost.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Would cause the chain of command to defrost.

Who would have thought, 
One word and it's meaning lost,
Should turn our hopes for a brighter future to dust.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Could turn trust into mistrust.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Would let discipline be no longer seen at it's best.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Should make co-operation a thing of the past.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Could have the human race facing it's biggest test.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost
Would lead to such neglect.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Should make a rope around our neck come next.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Could cost us the knowledge of how to get out of a fix.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Would find us looking for respect.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Should need to be found at any cost.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Could be joined by Love in the dust.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost,
Would potentially make us ghosts of a species long past.

Who would have thought,
One word and it's meaning lost
Should when found turn out to be respect.
Form: Didactic

The Nobility of Appearance

White trees of massive strength holding
tons of snow never cracking and toppling,
I'm captivated by their glossiness
more than the velvetiness of roses!

It's winter's invasive silence totally dire 
that ushes the murmurs of their leaves
so distinctly flamboyant and distinctly theirs,
and in Fall when those dazzling colors
fascinate, can make one stop and admire
their loveliness so unique and grand...
a comeliness found in a distant dreamland!  

Weather can change their green
into white, not their astonishing stateliness,
time certainly will in drastic ways;
but the nobility of appearance excels,
and it's never a muted anger of rudeness
retorted and suppressed by the cruel harshness
of a season not as clement as spring is...
and its unpleasantness can be clearly seen!

Truly, coldness is not felt by trees,
but brightness enlivens them with gleams
as it vitalizes an image of elegance given by
remote stars with a steady glow,
unless a bleak night hastily moves 
in and crystallizes all the puffy snow 
with no moon above, only a misty sky
that invites the remote sounds of an enraged wind
engaging in wits of blows with a frightening sound!   

When the frozen branches of the sturdy trees
start to defrost towards morning,
surely spring has arrived freeing
them from their misery and useless pleas;
they will begin to undulate and not be ravaged by storms...
gradually snow will melt showing the greenness of meadows!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member White Knuckle Winter- Weather Forecast

Finishing up the last notes from my work day, I’m really late,
Looking out my window, my drive tonight, I’m going to hate.

I grab my briefcase and walk to my car, on a sheet of ice.
Slipping and sliding left and right, this is not going to be nice.

Takes twenty minutes to clear the snow from my car window,
If I can hardly move, how will my car drive, I just don’t know. 

Hitting the windshield, the snowflakes are big, puffy and white,
They fly at you almost hypnotizing, you completely lose sight.

Once you reach country roads the white knuckles truly begin,
If you can keep between the hydro poles, you may just win.

Hold on tight, keep your wheel straight, put your lights on low,
Pray your defrost keeps working as you make through the snow.

A blanket of whiteness envelopes you, no sounds or lights to see,
Alone in this blizzard, you drive, terrifying, yet a strange tranquility.

Once home, after a good night’s sleep, you arise from bed at seven,  
Trees iced in froth, the ground painted white, looks a bit like heaven.

Sun comes up, temperatures rise and once again green appears,
Nature makes the world safe again, slowly melts away your fears.

To think that I could have easily been killed driving home last night,
You consider the beauty of country living and soon forget the fright.


Written September 9, 2012
For Joy Wellington’s contest
“Weather Forecast”
© Lee Ramage  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

You Released Me From My Prison of Rape

12/04/2013

My hearts starting
to unhinge
And it will no
longer cringe
When your soft skin
touches mine
Even though it took
some time
To begin a new found
trust
And have someone
finally touch
Me in a way I don't
freak out
Since that night
left me without
My good safety
anymore
When he kicked down
my front door
And attacked me
without care
I was frozen with
the fear
After he finished
his thrills
I was going to get
killed
But for hours he
just taunted
Leaving me broken
and haunted
Alone and naked on
the floor
Laughing, walking
out the door
Days and months went
slowly by
With years of
therapy to try
And get me out of
this prison
This cruel rapist
left me in
It would always take
me back
To this sad, hurtful
attack
When a guy would
start to stare
All I could see was
the fear
That I felt way down
inside
That would open up
so wide
If someone new would
come close
My heart turned to
ice and froze
No one could ever
defrost
The pain from years
of life I lost
Until you
accidentally 
Brushed my arm and I
could see
No pictures of his
mean face
And the torture of
that place
All I felt was warm
emotion
Filling me up with
no caution
As I saw your eyes
meet mine
Helping my heart
thaw to find
A new life with
someone who
Would carefully help
me through
Bringing me back
from the dead
The past fading from
my head
Form: Rhyme

Ice Storm

It started with the freezing rain,
the curse of winter time,
turning all into slick black glass
on every road you find.

Then came on all the pelting sleet,
pins and needles outside,
you can hear it as it hits home,
adding mass where it lies.

The skier wishes it was snow,
while drivers hide in fear,
linesmen get ready to go work
when outages appear.

They know branches are coming down,
the roads will be a mess,
the governor says please stay home,
being safe is the best.

The next day the world is transformed,
slick ice coats everything,
long branches bow under the weight,
Clad in crystalline sheen.

Like diamond melted on the trees,
catch light and sparkle bright,
a prism when the sun’s rays hit,
flashing colors of light.

A tinkling sound as wind blows by,
thin ice cracks in the breeze,
like tiny hammers striking glass,
both scary and serene.

The cars idle as defrost runs,
ice much too thick to scrape,
some struggle to open the doors
while loudly cursing fate.

New icicles on power lines,
dripping down like a fringe,
where wind was strong they go sideways,
kind of a bizarre thing.

Driveways have become skating rinks,
ice shingles coat the roof,
the snow is now a hard concrete,
what once was soft and loose.

The great plains have their tornados,
earthquakes out in Cali
Florida has the hurricanes…
it’s ice in the northeast.
Form: Rhyme

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