Long Frozen Poems
Long Frozen Poems. Below are the most popular long Frozen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frozen poems by poem length and keyword.
suddenly from somewhere, a street urchin
an untamed bird of the wider sky
dropped down into the circus tent.
before him unfurled, scenes eerie, awesome!
soaring lions and tigers, gibbering baboons,
caravans of camels, animal tamers and acrobats,
artists balancing on poles,
swinging from bars to trapeziums,
pliant girls with plastic limbs and pouting breasts,
walking on tightropes.
a strange world with beasts and men!
his face painted white.
in motley dress, he was arrayed,
and a tall tapering cap placed
on his forcibly tonsured head.
he hardly knew what it all meant.
he heard the bells ringing
and it was time for the show.
he was told; he would henceforth be a clown
and should make people laugh.
* * * *
a thousand sunsets passed him by.
he forgot the familiar alleys of the streets.
lost sight of the endless pathways of the sky.
lost in a world,
so populous- so empty.
he buried him, in the hidden caverns of himself,
nursing a hundred bruises
inflicted by Time’s sharp razors.
a stranger to himself.
at times, tears long held back,
would trickle down, moistening his pillow
as he lay listening to the inner ravings of his heart.
often, he was reminded-
‘you should make others laugh’
he did make people laugh
while a fountain of tears still lay frozen,
in the slivers of his broken heart.
Written February 6, 2011
I seem to stare glazed at unexplained existence
As your eyes traverse an unexplored horizon
Of what I've always known
Wastelands of past recovered memories
Dance in your mind of an unrelenting distance
That you've made no effort to close
Once near futures become far too distant memories
To watch the focus turn away from the sun
And all I do is bite my tongue
Revolve around just like a carousel that's wandering
I'm far from being done with all these enemies I'm finding
Closer than what comfort's found
Take me down away from all these feelings
Feel like walls are closing in around me
And yet I make no sound
The candle's rekindled one too many times
The flame would shout
That the sun has just burnt out
As I traverse the unforgiving frozen tundra
These thoughts I just can't help repeating
Oh why did I bite my tongue?
No doubt an Eskimo as fabulous breeze
feeling in their element with style, elan
while snacking on crackers and cheese
this spate of bitter cold doth not seem to ease
as Arctic air blast (oh riff you prefer Polar Vortex)
submerged much of the nation
in what feels like absolute zero,
and no matter the appellation,
the outdoors analogous to being in a deep freeze
brings state of emergency (designated as Code Blue
from drain on bare necessities sans:
energy, food, general habiliments
unable to traverse frozen waterways
obstructing tankers access
to key shipyards, thus imposing
engines of society (Mother Nature decreed
harshly lashed pact with ole man winter)
asper bitter cold temperatures
gripping sizable chunk of United States,
where one step outside induces chattering class
to shiver from hypothermia,
and scant number of minutes will witness rigor mortis
evinced by knocked knees
whereat authoritative figures strongly advise
(nee require) every person to stay home
lest (if heedless) within seconds
their body electric will seize
from unseen large area of low pressure
and cold air surrounds both of Earth's poles
chastising anyone foolish enough
to risk life or limb, thus take a page
from hibernating bears playbook,
and stay under warm covers
collecting countless z's!
On a cold November morning
Frost wrapped the world in an ashy hue
Sucking the heart from silence
As an optimistic sun gazed through
Naked branches of oak and maple
Peeking through the limbs of gray
Lighting the indigo skies with grace
Dancing, flowing, praising
In waves of enchantment, such riches
Radiating warmth and awaking
The crackle of leaves, stunned
By the bitter air, the chilling stare
Of freezing sparkles on thoughts
Met by the luster of dawn
Revelations caress the mind
Of those who listen to the pulsations
Rumbling through the thoughts
Echoes of dreams, dulled
By reality’s dark plans for the one
Who listens to shadowy feelings
Deprived of hope or faith
Lingering on the edges of silhouettes
Who dread the moment, stirring
To life – the sense of delight
Inspiration and insight
Peppering the darkness in joy
Pleasures like seeds who’ll be growing
Love, the anointing
Of a life full of glory
A frosted November Sunday
Breathless and murky with hues
Of obscure inklings twinkling
Like the hesitating stars
On a quiet night
Flooded with desires, dreams
Amazed by the creation
Blessed by His presence
Even here – among the thorns
Who hasten to bite soft flesh
With frozen barbs, like wire
Bringing the ooze
Of crimson flowing over
Icy cool thoughts
Enriching the heart
With feelings from a deep
Longing, a need
For the belief that imagines
Love is forever
A never ending feeling
Forever giving
Never leaving
Always satisfying
On a cold and vibrant November morning
Love melts the heart
Who is yearning for the promise
Of a feeling that brings
Joy beyond words, more alive
Than the dance that inspires
Poets to write, artists to paint
As hearts unite
To share their life!
For the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings, written 12/2/2015
A primal inertia has held us together.
I dream of a time when we collided,
when we danced together in a molten tango,
a violent waltz of heat and fury.
As our heavenly bodies fell into each other,
we shone a light into the darkest of worlds.
You governed my forces,
shaped all I was ever to be.
A gift of enduring stability,
a womb, a cradle,
a playground.
but now,
a heavy force,
a heavenly force,
a gravity,
that which pulls us ever further apart.
I have all the power of this world but still...
...still I can not hold you.
With every passing moment you grow more distant,
Your face, as I will always remember it, is frozen in time.
But still you shine on,
You give light to the dark of my night,
You give hope to the life that I hold.
You are my companion in time.
You are my distant love.
I am the earth,
and you,
you are the moon.
Soon, I will journey to the middle of the moon,
There, I will proudly place a memento with flair,
Fine sculpture shaped for reduced-gravity design,
One like proud Lady Liberty, facing the sun.
Like a bright beacon blazing in starkness, a spike,
Soaring melodies of beauty gently pouring,
From a breath of fresh air deaf to bees’ noisy hum,
Bold, elegant masterpiece dipped in crocks of gold.
Steady for the frozen silence of moon’s eddy,
That unyielding oak that confines winds to the mat.
Carved to freeze time, for history not to be starved,
Set in stone, clothed in a bright future free from threat—
Sweet treasure that no storm will ever dare unseat.
(English and Klingon versions)
As cold as it gets on Planet Zero
Light years away from home alone
Crystal clear diamond mountains glow
Over jagged black landscapes of granite
A green sun emanates illusions of blue
No warmth in winter or light to speak of
Grows dimmer on the backdrop of space
Spacial planes seem more remote than usual
So far away from Earth on the distant eye
Frozen corners of the sky aim correctly
Though inhabitants are hard to find
To appreciate the beauty of nature
And what life hides behind the stars
Just out of grasp is Christmas
In a foreign part of space called Earth
It turns in every corner of the universe
As children listen on a distant path
The past, where time stands still on snow
Just to find Jesus at peace in a galaxy
Far away from home and gone to sleep
(Klingon versions)
Christmas DeSDu' mach chuq
Hoch bIr law' Suq 'oH yuQ pagh
tayqeqmey'e' lutu'lu'be' away from juH nIteb
qut HuvchoH Separ HuD wew
rIn qIj landscapes granite jagged
SuD illusions emanates SuD jul
qaStaHvIS winter wov jatlh pagh warmth pagh
HoSchoH dimmer poHmey backdrop
spacial planes law' vI'Iprup Hop puS motlh
Suvmo' away from tera' mIn chuq
Qeq taD 'er'In chal correctly
pagh ngan let Samta'meH
moch appreciate
'ej De''e' Hov So' nuq
neH jIjatlh 'uch christmas
tera' pong neH nov 'ay' poHmey
qaStaHvIS 'u' Hoch 'er'In tlhe' 'oH
Hoch path chuq 'Ij puq
qa' jIH, nuqDaq Qam poH reH peD
yeSuS Samta'meH DeSDu' roj neH qIb neH
Hop Ha' vo' juH 'ej yIjaH Qong
I stand in the doors of the funeral room and I am afraid,
afraid- of how I am going to get through this long day;
I knew the end was coming but nothing prepared me mother,
no one is ever ready for a beloved's last gasp of breath.
Inside the room I gulp my sorrow and stand still and frozen,
the room glows with hues of many rose pink flowers;
in peace you lay- all the ravages of illness have been erased,
beside your coffin I find myself looking and weeping.
I know this moment will be with me for all of my life,
just you and me alone with the scent of roses and quiet;
I am filled with emotions and my body feels like a heavy stone,
my heart is completely and totally shattered, forever broken.
There is nothing I could have done to keep you in this world,
I feel hallow inside and I hurt everywhere and I am lost;
but you taught me to be strong and to have courage,
so, I whisper love you- and turn to greet the first visitor.
_____________________________
October 30, 2015
Poetry/Verse/A Moment in Time
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1219-153-30
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Completely Your Choice (46)
Sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 01/20/2021
Eighth Place
Snow falling softly
cloaking
a white landscape,
sounds all muffled
peace reigns here in
the stillness
the earth is dressed
as a bride
That bride walks
into spring
there she brings new
life
settling in,
bringing warmth
to the once frozen
land
Soon she will usher
in summer
there to prosper and
flourish
watching her
offspring grow
as she drifts off
into autumn
Shorter days now the
bride's reward
long chilly nights
now her only console
each one leading her
to the icy winter
no respite now, life
once more, full
circle
Snow falling softly
cloaking
a white landscape,
sounds all muffled
peace reigns here in
the stillness
the earth is dressed
as a bride
season's greeting to
you all hugs
"In the Arctic Ocean, the echoes of loneliness are silenced by the stunning beauty of its icy waters, a living testament to nature's delicate balance between isolation and vitality." by Jami Patterson
"No, the Arctic does not yield its secret for the price of a ship’s ticket. You must live through the long night... You must have gazed on the deadness of all things to grasp their livingness." — Christiane Ritter, A Woman in the Polar Night
Arctic Depths
A sorrow sinks into the deep abyss
The crushing cold, a heavy, marble shroud
Where the faint sun forgets to ever creep
And whispers are not meant to be aloud
The water tastes of ancient iron, old
A bitter, sharp tang upon the tongue
As the deep secrets wait, forever cold
The immense weight of pressure, sharply flung
The narwhal glides in velvet, endless black
Its ivory spear, a purely ghostly gleam
Along the deep sea trench's lonely track
A silent, solitary actor in a dream
The ringed seals exhale a vapor white
Their large, dark eyes reflect the fading gray
A fleeting warmth against the endless night
Before the heavy darkness pulls away
A mournful silence fills the aching ear
A sensory, profound, and deep despair
For every sturdy creature dwelling here
Breathes in the ice-cold, heavy, chilling air
The mighty Greenland shark moves slow
A cold-blooded phantom, old and vast
Observing everything below
A living relic from the past
Its body is a dense and frozen thing
Moving through the current's icy sweep
No joyful sounds the deep can ever bring
Just endless, chilling slumber while they sleep
The Ocean floor, a vast, pale sheet
Where slow-motion currents gently flow
A rhythmic, cold, and soundless beat
The profound, dark truth the deep must know