Long Iciness Poems
Long Iciness Poems. Below are the most popular long Iciness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Iciness poems by poem length and keyword.
I don't know what I am doing
There's a tremendous storm brewing
Deep inside, not staying in
Causing chills upon my skin
From the icy cold in me
This was not my destiny
To be frigid and so bleak
I am at the very peak
Goosebumps running down my spine
Frozen specks of frost will shine
Every day that wont let go
More and more the cold will grow
It is taking over fast
I feel the chilly blast
Of your loud and strong good bye
No matter how hard I try
I hear your harsh words agian
When the sun and moon begin
To rise and fall like my heart
Why did you ever depart
From my love so very warm
Our love weather was so calm
Until the day you walked out
Now I only scream and shout
From the cold heart ache I feel
And an iciness so real
Do not be despicable
It is really terrible
How your attitude is being
Your humanity is fleeting
More and more each time I see
Your mannerism, its clearly
Out of control, so out of whack
All you ever do is attack
With words of fury and disgust
That break down and badly bust
Anyone that comes your way
Thinking it is fun to play
With the fragile emotions
Clueless about any notion
How much pain you are inflicting
Or the way it is affecting
The lives you are tearing apart
Where is the love in your heart
Your ice cold and do not know
How this freezing leaves a glow
Of hurtfulness or does it matter
Your about to really shatter
Into a million broken pieces
Everyone who ever reaches
All the iciness inside
The dark pit you always hide
Only coming out when you
Want someone to feel blue
Does it make you happy when
A day is ruined once again
By your insensitivity
Can't you realize and see
There is another way to live
If you'd try to care and give
Less of your ignorance
In return you'd know kindness
Thawing that icy cold heart
You can make a better start
You thought my world was destroyed
Weapons of hurt you deployed
Bullets flying everywhere
Labeled with hurt and despair
My heart pierced, you watched it shatter
Acting like it didn't matter
Your iciness isn't cool
You are being very cruel
As my world and head are spinning
You think I'm losing, as your winning
A life with a brand new lover
Your gonna have to duck and cover
She's worse than you'll ever be
Known as "Evil Misery"
By other guys she demolished
Reputations have been tarnished
These tears you see falling down
Are making a happy sound
Knowing I'm being set free
As the fate and destiny
Your about to fall into
Makes me ecstatic not blue
My future is looking better
Your regretting that you've met her
Fehu bestoweth golden hope
Uruz doth endure battles through strength
Thurisaz provoketh strife and guardeth my rose
Whilst Anuz communicates with divine length
Raidho pursueth journeys of measured rhythm
Kenaz illuminates creative spiritual knowledge
Gebo granteth gifts as infinitum
As Wunjo doth harness harmony in a college
Hagalaz transformeth with tempests and chaos
Nauthiz, by resistance, takes constraint
Isa blossoms in stillness, as iciness plays on
Yet, Jera rewardeth cycles of harvest in haste
Eihwaz endureth death, resilience, and rebirth
Perthro revealeth mystery and knowledge
Algiz defendeth with steadfast and mighty girth
So, Sowilo shineth in sunny sparks of voltage
Tiwaz upholdeth justice, making a leader
Berkano bringeth fertility with new beginnings
Ehwaz uniteth partners and team seekers
For Mannaz exalteth communal incentives
Laguz floweth as a stream to raise intuition
Ingwaz concealeth fertile power and energy
Dagaz breaketh visions from night imprisoned
Whilst Othala preserveth heritage in memories
Autumn
A fine time of year
Its not the same as the other seasons, remember
Autumn has an exceptional allure and aroma
Autumn is the time when the elements are askew
Neither friend or foe,neither beast or beauty
Winter It's not the season I savor
The unwelcomed anguish
The atrocious winds and the inhumane iciness
and a yearning for daffodils to revel themselves
Springtime when nature will absolve itself of winter.
Arriving with a placid assuage.
Rapidly maturing into summer
The abundant days of summer,with its unkind heat
Days once ardent
Will soon quench us again.
Returning to autumn
A fine time of year.
Certified vegan;
Non-GMO Project Verified;
Free of dairy, lactose, soy, and gluten.
The consistency of vanilla
creamy and luxurious,
without a speck of iciness,
yet not overly heavy.
The flavor rich
with notable burst of sweet vanilla.
Said comestible insanely versatile
and will surely be a go to dairy-free ice cream.
Sold at LIDL, and other sites
ourselves former first time taste testers
erred on the side of caution
and bought in quantity
courtesy the missus foresight,
who now deems said food product
more precious than fine spun gold.
Pint size container only ample enough
to buzzfeed temporary craving,
yet invariably whets appetite
(to the power of googleplex)
for insatiable consumption,
thus one must thwart willpower
and surrender tastebuds to devour
one after another 473 milliliters
or more familiarly 16 ounces.
No matter yours truly could consume
aforementioned dessert
for breakfast, lunch, and supper,
the novelty to savor said special treat
would remain as intact
and robust as if one tasted
SO DELICIOUS product for first time.
I never tire scooping out
one after another spoonful
and slowly lick globule
(even when marginally hungry)
relishing each tongueful lickety split
steeling myself against
aggressive depredations of wife
before she ferociously lunges
toward me in a futile attempt
to wrest delectable mouthwatering
(just a hairbreadth of being decadent)
foodstuff guaranteeing happy shiny tummy.
Go ahead indulge sweet tooth
or even if toothless
the culinary quasi oral pleasure
can still be experienced.
A sense of lost was felt
A sense of being wasn’t until…
A hearten iciness did not melt
Encasing those of sins to feel
Drifting away becomes welcoming
Serving no one with something to lose
No longer from within am I listening
When a world serves no more to choose
I do not mind the people staring
Knowing they’ll never see me anyway
Times too change for quiet fairing
For myself to never stay an everyday
And it wasn’t there… I cannot find
A sense of being… a dire for hope
I was giving in… was I unkind?
Yet of faith unmeant… I made broke
How long was I gone?
Did I return… torn and broken?
Did I give in to feel belong?
For my sense of lost to be forgiven
The older I get, the more I forget the names of colors.
Would you call this paint amber, burnt ochre, or clay?
Would it were the same with all of my dolors.
But age hasn’t washed any of my dolors away.
I finally saw hills as old as me,
and it was a pitiful sight to see,
with many a crevice and facial scar,
and so, pointing at the hills,
I asked my dearest wife, Shar,
"Is that what I look like?"
She said, “No, that's is not what you look like.
That’s what you are."
Only two o'clock ~ still an hour till it's three.
Time's passing slower than eternity.
Now it's four, and as even the clock's cuckoo can see ~
I'm having trouble with this end-of-life monotony.
How much longer till it's five o'clock ~
and I can put this head of lettuce on the chopping block?
Tick ~ tock ~
tick ~ tock ~
tick~ tock...
That's life ~ in a game with grandpa ~
running down the clock.
As I reflect on my old body’s daily decay,
I wonder ~ did God really mean to do it this way?
Couldn't He have let me journey to life's end, whole and entire,
instead of having part after part of me periodically misfire?
You assert emphatically, "Yes! He really meant to do it this way!"
Okay.
When you're old, you know what's really insane?
It's when you're going down memory lane,
but you find nobody there
with whom a memory to share.
And you wonder ~ am I in the right brain?
My route home seems to have been mislaid.
I have a feeling I've walked way past the Fire Brigade.
And where's that street
where the park and the bicycle path meet?
I'm completely lost! ~ My God!
I'm so afraid.
One thing when you get this old
is that your body can get so unbearably cold,
because your skin gets so thin,
it lets all the iciness in,
and then a hot partner is worth their weight in gold.
You know how it is
when cola loses its fizz.
That's kinda what happened here.
And what can I say but, 'Sorry, my dear?'
I kinda feel like I've flunked the pop quiz.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead.
Rather have everyone don a motley party hat.
And if anyone's inclined to cry,
please say, "Don't shed a tear for this old guy,
cuz he's gonna live it up ~ in the sweet bye and bye.
like an old oak with a dried up knothole
I stand in the wind, feeling her iciness now
arthritis flares up in my roots when there is a wind chill
Wind chill being the perfect word for it.
like an immovable mountain, I stand my ground.
Sure that I am right; unwilling to change any ideas
for I have changed them too many times already.
This is what getting older does for some mountains.
like a summers day I dance in many colors of oranges
Pinks, reds, purples and greens too; I am a frothy fluffy mess.
Time has shown me that being myself and living my truths is preferable
to being a young willow whipping around in the wind, thinking she knows everything.
Tiny, silver crystals sprinkle the earth
as they float slowly down
from the place of their birth.
Peppering white along the brown,
in the cold they may be found.
From frostiness they are born,
iciness follows them to the ground,
piercing like a thorn
Many there are
yet none are quite the same.
They have six sides whether near or far,
and their intricate designs are their fame.
Yet each is very small,
in large groups they strike fast
and leave piles that are tall
when the tempest is past.
They bring coldness to the touch
and get caught in your hair.
With unpleasantness of such
they even scare away the bear.
The wind whistles in your ear
as it sends the snow floating down.
And all that you can hear
is that there is a blizzard in town.
Although very unpleasant
when blown in your face.
When all its energy is spent
it is peaceful throughout space.
It is safe to step outside
and as you can guess,
there is no need to hide.
You may forget
all the unpleasantness
for gone is all the wind's blow.
And all that lies
is a fine layer of snow,
and of the ghastly weather
there are no ties.