Long Freezing Poems
Long Freezing Poems. Below are the most popular long Freezing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Freezing poems by poem length and keyword.
When the noise becomes a melody of love in my heart .....
And the song that follows is all about your compassion for the next lost ones problems. When the roads is longer than a cycle
When the pain is numbed by your healing heart
It's your hands that healed my broken spirit
Your love is unstoppable
Your love is unbreakable
Your love is unmovable
Your love is unmistakable
When the overcrowded places becomes to loud
It's your voice that
sings a majestic song that follows me around..
Of lives that's caring a heavier load..
When the rage is burning in my soul
It's your calmness that brings it to a melody of acceptance and forgiveness
Your love is unbreakable
Your love is unstoppable
Your love is acceptable.
Your love is intoxicating
When the coldness is as freezing icy heated in your forgiving embrace. When the south eastern winds blow for table mountain causing destruction it's my unforgiving hatred that blown away because of your steadfast unmovable unshackled steady embrace of love wrapped around my unworthy ego who's flames is extinguished with your beautiful heart towards the one's that started the fire of hate
Your love is unbreakable
Your love is unstoppable
Your love is acceptable.
Your love is intoxicating
When the roads are not long even though I've traveled endless Miles.
It's love that keeps me sane and filles the empty ness.
It's your warmth that heats my icy heart.
It's you faith in me that gives me strength to walk with pride to be your man till tomorrow and etinity.
When the storms of Life is just a draf that blows away my fears. .
When the rain is just a drop that is needed to quins my thirst. .
When the scorching sun is just enough to warm my cold heart
When the silence is just what's needed to block out the sounds of confusion.
Your love is unbreakable
Your love is unstoppable
Your love is acceptable.
Your love is intoxicating
When the south eastern blows from table mountain
Blowing through my
hateful heart
It's your hands tearing at the rage filled in my soul.
When the oceans is red from cleaning it's self and spiting out dirty waters it's your tears that is shed for the next one trapped in the icy cold currents of life
Your love is unbreakable
Your love is unstoppable
Your love is acceptable.
Your love is intoxicating
Your love is mine and mine is yours
A gentle tickle belies the sadness
as the corner of my eye swells and my vision blurs.
The beauty and the joy fading from my mind,
the "what was" and "what could be"
but longing memories and lost dreams,
like fading shadows, of a wasted life,
and all that is left is the loneliness.
Lying alone lost in somber reverie,
the welling in my eye inches ever closer
to flooding past the impenetrable fortress
created by my, now, tightly shut lids,
the specters of my past slowly filling my unseeing eyes
with visions of all of the special moments
and the caring caresses that we once shared.
My lashes quiver and moisten as I breathe in deeply.
The words of love we breathlessly whispered
now only wisps of meaningless expiration
hidden among icy, broken emotional shards,
a million pieces of sharp frozen feelings
piercing so deeply inside of me, freezing what remains
of you in the deep crevices of my broken heart.
The tingle sharpens as the dam breaks,
one forlorn drop escaping slowly down my cheek,
meandering, lost, in the creases of my aged face.
I reach up to wipe it away, but can't
for everything I am, everything that is me,
everything that we were and could ever be,
I've set adrift inside of that tiny, tickling, forsaken tear.
06/19/2017
Winter’s cold chill cuts through my chin.
Within its bleak and brazen embrace,
My brisk days are turned brief and barren.
They are lengthened into sordid sepulchral insomniac nights.
I slither and slip and am hurled into hibernation.
Once I stood with you immune to wanton winter’s wild whiplash.
You wrapped me warm from the wrath of winter’s whirlwind.
Our life moved in homogeneous harmony.
With one glaring glance from you, my heart hummed halcyon tunes.
I danced blissfully in tandem to your sweet soulful songs.
Your luminous, lambent light shone brightly,
Blazing the dark and desolate caves and crevices within me.
Now I stand and stay rooted like the trunk of a leafless tree,
Giving no shelter or shade to anyone.
With despondent dread and disappointment,
I watch the sap and serum in me going dry,
And the feathers on my wings wilt and wither like dead leaves.
With the flaming fire put out, winter has brashly barged into my life.
My lips once so eloquent now have fallen still and silent.
All the words I have carefully gleaned and garnered,
Have slipped and slid into a bottomless abyss, never to be heard again.
My lulling lyrics are replaced with the reverberating refrains of a lament.
An icy crystallization is speedily spreading,
Through my sentient soul like an ache, I have never known.
Grey cumulus clouds of pain have rolled into steal,
All light, luster and luminosity from my bright sky.
Now my world has cracked and crumbled into a bleak void of grey.
I twitch and tremble in cold as you have withdrawn your warmth.
A late realization has now daringly dawned outside my door.
I am not to perish and putrefy in this cold,
But be dauntless and dashing to fight, thaw and tread my way,
Battle the intense cold in flaming, flaring fires.
After every frosty and freezing winter, other seasons will arrive .
Summer is an inviolable and unassailable power within,
And in its warmth I can vanquish the chilling cold.
I shall wake up with a syrupy sweet song in my lips
And find myself in the luminous light of a dawning day!
Outside views
remind me
Earth already represents
early winter
in my sacred EarthTale
Of internal climate healthy
redevelopment
heart mediated
in dialogue with nonverbal
Right/Left resonant
muse-integrity
Silent
sacred
mindful rest
promised
through winter's hibernating
nest
Before best health days
of our grandchildren's wealthiest lives
will struggle
seething still and silent
to not out loud envy
our apartheid cold messages
Time to "Man Up"
to get through my depressed
Yintegral chronic oppressed
trans-indigenous
multicultural potential
To winter through
LeftBrain monoculturing
viral win/lose dominance
over marginalized
"disabled" RightBrain prominence
Of late Fall
sinful PatriCapital daze
in my chronic LeftBrain dominant
entertaining
homiletic hubris
My monotheistic sublime
mid-summer protagonist
of all unspoken monoculturing passion narratives
expecting,
anxiously anticipating
my personal StraightWhite Patriarchal
anthrosupremacist savior
A late Fall god-given
self-righteous entitlement
defensive about dubious undemocratic
unhealthy transcendent fertility
Taking more than my four square share
of EarthTribe's freezing ZeroSum
final regenerative inhale
rather than a NonZero
full-harvest gratitude exhale
To co-passion grandchildren's
regenerate healthy inhale
balancing passionately co-invested
forgiving exhale
Spiraling dynamically out
toward full-spectral
four seasonal healthy wealth
of cross-generational
restoring Earth's
lifetime emergence,
AnthroSacred
Balancing this compassioning
late Fall mountain moment
co-invested back toward inspiring
spirited spring
of my indigenous
bicameral
original natural/spiritual
EarthJustice bilateral wisdom
This win/lose LateFall day
is Not
THE END (yet)
'Twas the night before Christmas that was freezing cold,
my 5-year old granddaughter couldn't keep elation on hold,
for she knew, for her Santa would bring at night nice gift.
So, she wanted the long hours of waiting to soon drift.
She had known Santa'd come through chimney with glee,
so, if there was one in the new house she wanted to see.
She ran upstairs to look at the roof, but couldn't find one.
In tears, she said Santa's visit her fate had surely undone.
I assured her, he would come through the window for sure,
give her the beautiful gifts that would definitely allure.
At night the window of her room she didn't let us close,
although outside the chilly wind from the snowfield rose.
Morn sun flooded her room through window open wide.
She tried to shout in joy seeing the gifts lying by her side,
but her voice was choked, gripped by a bout of cold.
That night before Christmas she never forgot, even when old.
“Death to Caesar!!!”
“What!! What did you say???”
I said: “Breath to Caesar!!”
“Long and healthy and contented breath.”
“So which of his Legions are you a part of?”
“OH! God, if there is one, they call us the freezing legion.
“See these fingers, well where they used to be, well
they got lopped off. It was so cold out they didn’t even
bleed. Saved my indentured frigging life.”
“Those that died froze so quickly we didn’t even
need litters to carry them off the field of battle.”
“Just picked them up stiff as you please and threw
them in the cart.”
“So What made you join up?” “Trouble with the law?
or In-law?” “Too many tarts?” “Eh, C’mon.”
“Damn, same old story. Dad’s a senator, always bragging
about his son, you know.”
“Agricolas this, Agricolas that.” “Dammit, stop snickering.
He thought it would be an advantage to have an outlandish
moniker.” “So he hung this one on me.” “So one day I just
got fed up, said screw this, and went off to become a legionnaire.”
“Guess I showed him what he could do with his stupid name.
Now I kill farmers, well not just farmers, just about anybody
that gets in the way of the Legion.” “Not a bad job though, as
long as your not the one frozen stiff and tossed in the cart.”
“Well, I bet your dad’s proud now.”
“Nope, hasn’t spoken to me in three years. Says I spend too much
time hanging about with the lower echelons of humanity.” “I told
him we weren’t partying, that I hacked their limbs off, crushed their
skulls, decimated their homes and villages.” “Last thing he said to me
was Nail Caesar!!” “Ya gotta love these loyal subjects.”
for Isaiah Zerbst, The Roman Legion contest
He walked along the cobbled streets,
a terrible freezing gloaming, frosted air.
Snow crystal upon snow crystal
dampen the arctic gelidity:
his head was chilled, his teeth chattered
and frostbite raked his fingertips.
He turned, shuffling into a side street.
Fear clutched his heart, but he felt valiant
and entered boldly her heated abode.
She waited for him, slouching on her sofa.
He was quick to notice her stern face,
a contrast to her gentle eyes,
that shone like the silvery stars.
Could he detect some pathos there?
Uncertain, he knew how unpredictable she was.
A stunning figure on show for him.
He pleaded:
“Shield me from the freezing night.”
Her cat-like smile formed on her ruby lips.
“Am I that unwelcome, my sweet?
Grant me a few moments of bliss.
just one ruddy, wanton, lingering kiss,
Then I'll be off and leave you in peace,
the peace I shall never find.”
It was not to be—the finality of love.
The air outside was colder still.
His life would be melancholy forevermore.
Divinity’s Pew
The truth stands in contrast
to only itself
Once mentioned eternal
when thought and then felt
It lives in the ether
past fortune or fame
Conscripted by conscience
no praise and no blame
The truth beyond reason
beyond lies or consent
The lucky among us
to follow its scent
Its trail leads to faith
divinity’s pew
Transforming the moment
— you first say I do
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
Freezing The Moment
Are you the
lead actor
within your own myth
The script
ever changing
the past in its crypt
Can you freeze
the moment
with only one word
The Angel’s
applauding
— the devil unheard
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
Salt Lick
Politicians
endow a sword
to the few
— to command the many
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
Modern Education
Learning more
about less and less
Feeling torn
in great duress
Faith attacked
we hide from myths
Real love scorned
— ourselves we kiss
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
Marx In Hell
Political salvation
the god of failure
Beatifying the collective
— on the devil’s throne
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
Gnostic Dreams
The brighter the glare
we discover around us
The darker the light
stays hidden within
Secular salvation
a digital failure
God’s imminent nature
— indistinguishable from ours
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
‘Sage To The Court Jester …’
God’s truth — Man’s truth
bridging the difference
trust in the Muse
(Rosemont College: February, 2024)
What is this thing called Life?
This fragile forging of flesh and spirit
A mocking of existence
A dream like world of nightmarish hell
That can evaporate into a kiss of another soul
Dissolving the fear of mortal mass
Into an ecstasy of vulnerable pleasure
The essence of rapture of love of lust of life
Is it God's gift or nature's mistake?
Born helpless
Live dependent
Die weak and pitiful
Does the wind laugh at its wretched subject?
Licking our faces with mocking joy of ridicule
Is it swooshes by lapping the earth
With its seasons-Bellowing them onto unprotected bodies
From huddling in caves
To freezing in slums
It has seen it all and changed it less
Life has no pity, Sees no sorrow
A constant fight for survival
A chance to live tomorrow
But Life be it unforgiving or unbearable
Grant's its mercy in Death
Suddenly in youth, lingering in the aged
Gracefully the empty sack of blood and bones
Feeds the worms and beetles
Of the earth it evolved from
What is Life but Death?
And what is Death but Life?
To be born is to die
And to die is to be born
The beauty of Life is it is fragile
An existence of but a breath away
A spirit of a beating heart
A soul of a living brain
Is Death not the beauty of Life?
The great equalizer of human kind
To feel no more its' pain
To escape its' sorrow
To outwit its' shame
To live is all you have
To die is all you get
Life is all you got
Live-Life
Life
There’s a beguiling danger in beauty…
seduced as I was by the fickle fingers of fate musingly stroking my hair,
I envisaged
this lusciously lavish landscape
of sun-raptured heavenly hills and valid valleys
to be a lush, plush place for me to land ~
alas, such deception my naive perception did offer.
Buried beneath the facade of a fertile dream-come-true
and a mesmerizing mirage of natural light and zephyrus breaths -
where your thoughts hugged the horizons of my mind
like clouds on the edges of prairie dog skies
and where your stampeding passions trampled my inhibitions -
were delicate bandeaux of ice;
finespun and feathery like polar gossamer
that formed on the stems of your ruptured dreams
that then became my nightmare
when you had your hard freeze
while warm sap still flowed through your veins,
pumped and pushing through your broken being
and freezing on contact with the chilled clime
cocooning me, in a sudden silken surge of your glazing gauze
holding me, in the vivid wild magic of your frosted crystallized clutches -
fossilizing me, in icy opalescent ribbons of ornate whorls.
Unable to escape the grasping glacial petals of your exquisite pain,
your frost flowers plunged me into the frigid heart
of your bitter bluestem’s prairie winter...
There’s a beguiling beauty in danger
hypnotized and hijacked
as I was by the rhythmic sways of your tall grass ways -
your flickering tongue tasting my air
as my emotions were extorted
till I was bled white -
obviously oblivious
that I was being preyed upon
by a stealthy force of nature motivated by indigenous instincts.
Susan Ashley
March 13, 2018
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Poetry for the Sake of Poetry
Sponsor: John Lawless
*bluestem: tall grass native to the Great Plains with bluish leaf sheaths*
*frost flower: thin layers of ice extruded from long-stemmed plants in autumn or early winter. These thin ice layers form dainty ‘ribbons’ or ‘petals’*