Long Icy Poems
Long Icy Poems. Below are the most popular long Icy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Icy poems by poem length and keyword.
Which is trickier, slipping or sliding?
The ice out there is a hard quarter inch.
Which is riskier, gripping or gliding?
I'm digging down deep in the workroom bench;
I remember they are in here somewhere.
The ice out there is a hard quarter inch.
I've got grip thingies for my boots to wear -
those with the sharp metal points underneath.
I remember they are in here somewhere.
Voila! they still have more than half their teeth!
I recall there's a trick - slogging in spikes.
those with the sharp metal points underneath.
With one step forward, I let out a "Yikes!"
as my keister says "hello" to the floor.
I recall there's a trick - slogging in spikes
A few steps more and I'll open the door,
Which is trickier, slipping or sliding?
as my keister says "hello" to the floor.
Which is riskier, gripping or gliding?
April 8, 2022
Beyond ice and snow, consider this trope
With smiles on your faces, hold on to hope.
Underneath the thick and icy snow is
buried the dormant wild grass that lost
its glitter: it's spring's emerald blanket
that covered the barren soil of meadows!
Even the blinding light of our main Star
doesn't shine too brightly over anything,
even afternoons are short and uninspiring;
this poet puts down his pen with mind ajar!
Christmas has been without any gleeful carols,
every street glistens with ice and somberness;
the only happy persons are the frantic skaters,
we watch them behind this window shut to joys!
The Holidays are marred by grins of melancholy,
fun is reserved for the very young, we had ours;
and while squirrels and birds don't frequent trees
to stir the essence of harmony, we observe all sadly!
Winter is a brutal omen who strips trees of their leaves
and meadows of fragrant flowers to anger romantic hearts
who dream of lovely afternoons that turn into pretty sunsets:
we were those lovers hugging and exchanging fervent kisses!
Underneath the thick and icy snow can easily be found
a blazing hope that can melt it quickly and awaken spring
from the lethargy of four long months without any song:
breathe on the frozen ground and your wish will unfold!
I wade into the icy waters
And weave my way amongst the reeds
And watch the ducks as they scuttle
From ripple to ripple diving playfully.
I feel so young despite my age
When in the stream I unclad my feet.
Rough soles, thick though sore
Move carefully over shingles bare.
It is as if the water cleanses
My heavy soul from all its sins
From so many transgressions
From so many injustices.
But it is always thus with life it seems
That we remember only the ugly past;
We soon forget our good and blessings
Instead we suffer greed for a better life.
So let us raise our expectations,
Commit ourselves to our resolutions.
Go on our journey through its destination
And waste not our lives in angry simulations.
For if like ducks we dive into the stream
And search for tidbits, juicy and sweet,
We'll find so many treasures that
We should forever hold so dear.
3am
i am up and out
a few days after an ice storm
a few days after my Mother's car was repossessed
walking the three hours to work
near the woods
i hear the rustling
i am being watched
a dead deer startles me
light
darkness
darkness
light
crickets
stranger sounds
i regret every thought before the important ones
now my legs are heavy
i am now wishing that i called a taxi
my money is limited, and i think of caroline
i think about my broken heart
i think about a brand new start
i am sweating frigidity beams
that breeze at my back stings
i thought i was too good for this happening
i thought i was way above this type of struggle
now i am the one not laughing
my bills have been on time ever since
a little after 6am
i am dragging my behind
i find the strength deep within myself to prepare mentally
i got eight long and physical hours to do
i lock up my pain like a strategic version of constipation
nobody knows the internal clown crying tears of woe
thoughts of loss
thoughts of debt
thoughts of my useless need to feel
thoughts of the mistakes and the bad resulting decisions
thoughts of a genius type of time machine
i sweat
i work
i make somebody else rich
i clock out
i think about the walk to work
i decide....without hesitation....to call a taxi
i Learn....
i Grow....
“Welcome”
a robot effigy of painted aluminium
on its face a vestigial smile
chill, uncharismatic and instant,
voicing through it
like rasping metallic file,
a platinum echo, distant.
Its unmoving countenance
worn like a habit, a shiny mask, ill-fit
the smirk of a smile sewn on,
with crayon drawn on,
it did not move as if to prove
a robotic ability as ventriloquist.
I was transfixed
with words that keenly gnawed:
“You have been thawed.”
I looked around with icy perception,
with roving eye and no movement of limb,
where had I been?
As my body warmed and my limbs gained inflection,
so my mind was pierced with icicles of truth
of a previous existence and a distant youth.
It’s all coming back now,
it had worked somehow:
Cryogenics.
In a two-door
gold-colored 1973
Ford Maverick with
a black vinyl top,
49 Christmases ago,
In the winter of 1973,
from Chicago, we headed south.
My wife's brother was getting married
on Christmas day, and I was a member of
the wedding party. We were a bit fearless
and young. It was very cold, and we were very
bold. But we really should have known better.
Less than a hundred miles out, the wet and the
cold turned to ice, and the road became slippery.
As I attempted to weather the Icy Road, my stubbornness
quickly manifested itself, but not for long. The weather won.
Young and bold, but we were not foolish and ignorant.
We canceled our plans and spent Christmas with older
friends in the area. It was a different but safe Christmas.
Many Christmases ago, we learned to respect the weather.
My wife and I were gifted One Icy Christmas with a precious
memory, which now hangs on the tree of our hearts.
113022PS
The Last Red Rose of Autumn – First Portrait
The last red rose of Autumn signifies a
heartfelt farewell to all of us, as the coming
changeover to the icy-cold Winter season
begins to make its frigid presence known
all around as the faint glimmer of Autumn
slowly and inevitably says its goodbye to us.
The last red rose of Autumn is very special,
in its magical and enchanting radiant-red hue,
and in the divine spirit it conjures for all of us
to see of its wondrous image and beauty,
whilst we marvel at the majestic nature of its
richly redolent aroma that captivates our senses.
The last red rose of Autumn now sheds a big tear
that she must depart with the coming of Winter.
Goodbye.
Gary Bateman and Ingrid Krukenberg-Bateman
A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 24, 2018
(Free Verse)
While I gaze at nightfall through chilled droplets
my musings try to redesign past reveries:
oh those exotic, summer escapades now buried
in gravestones of ice- powdered vapor…
and now the blistering winds return
when a frigid son of Poseidon veils
eve's tableau with ghastly pines
like numb statues macabre and furrowed,
hiding the radiance of moonlight.
Looks drab, not interesting, yet come early morn,
the sprigs beckon a tune elegantly droning
on lucent flakes to nibble the skyline red…
a mirror of stars circling in a gentle, gentle prance,
this, only in the magic of a white winter spell.
9/24/2016
Interesting Contest for john lawless
Written By: D. Collins 6/12/24
Bling, bling icy things won't get us anywhere.
They're given to show someone we really care.
The bigger the bling is the love we get back.
The larger the things is how we show our grat.
They come in many flavors, both hard and soft.
From 20-karat diamonds to just getting off.
People will play any game for their icy things.
Stoop to any level, well outside the fringe.
Some of it may be pretty, bordering beautiful.
Sucking in good people like us country folk.
We have seen Blood Diamonds and what it brings.
A disregard for man above those icy things.
"When did you last see something like this"?, I asked. He replied, " I have never seen anything like this", was his reply. He's been here all of his near 70 years.
Ice on the ground, the houses, the trees, the
electric lines. Trees broke and fell on electric lines and the weight of the ice broke also downed many other lines.
We were without electricity for more than 8 days, surviving from the use of our gas stove and a borrowed portable generator. We like
Many others survived by the grace of God who poured forth his merciful grace and the sun
released the warmth of it's rays.
The caring spirit of other people was remarkable. Several days of water outtage worsened the problems, and the temperatures
were below freezing for several days.
Through it all, the Grace of God proved far superior than the icy storm. We were paused
But enriched by his loving power; pained by
New depths of trial but given a measure of poise; pushed to new levels of discomfort
But graced with higher levels of gratitude.