Long Snow blind Poems
Long Snow blind Poems. Below are the most popular long Snow blind by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snow blind poems by poem length and keyword.
Twas the day after Christmas
Throughout the North Pole,
Not a creature was working
Not one Ho! Ho! Ho!
The elves were at home
They had the day off
Santa was gone
To Hawaii, to play golf
A little R and R
With his island wahine
Displaying her snow globes
In her Christmas bikini
Mrs Claus was visiting
Family back east
And the reindeer were grazing
On their tropical feast
When all of a sudden
Out on the back nine
His cart left the path
Cause he'd gone snow blind
All of the golfers
Caddies and guests
Came running with cell phones
Photographing the mess
There in the sand pit
Was Santa red faced
His wahine on his lap
It was such a disgrace
But Santa took names
For next year's big list
If you weren't in Hawaii
"I'm sorry, you missed"
December 25
Wahine: pronounced /wa he' ne
Daniel Turner
Mama's Golden Pond Cried
Mama loved to chew
off the Golden Pond
bone
chew the fat
of their autumn leaves,
dressed in splendor,
a scenic lake and cabin,
her pseudo stage,
of her new found barbies,
smiling at her
smile they did
so minted the american dream,
their lives golden.
These.
These
pocketed keepsakes she kept
next to the chip
on her shoulder.
Yet her music plays
ill forgotten lore and simile
of her family and children,
scruffy unkempt dogs
she never proud,
she drummed over and over,
her catch phrase.
We watched the movie
long ago,
in her element,
in her tempo,
bated breath,
tears falling
and detached.
Yet her music plays
so content
and spawning such a fondness
in her heart,
of them rowing a boat,
aging, golden.
Yet her music plays
sadly
in her heart
of emptiness
at home
dying,
lifeless grey eyes.
Yet, so steely
her song
snow blind of her son
sitting next to her
in the darkening theater,
her wintry chill,
so indigenous,
taking life hostage.
Just my child
her teeth
chattering
to piano keys
playing,
playing in her concerto
dancing on golden pond...
such a waste her lips mimed.
Her keys.
And mine sink low.
... Just my child
she sat akimbo,
in silhouette,
tears I imagine,
and her voice
... and her voice
once icy then
now a scar,
a ghost,
... scruffy come here.
connie pachecho
6/30/17
Climber
by Odin Roark
Reality readied its chance
Ascent of an alpine face
Traversing ice and cold
Challenging steel axe and rope
Such was the pulsating vibration
Facing another dawn
That day
Blade and ice danced slow motion
Penetrating deep into resistance
Echoing through layered centuries
Awakening nature to its presence
Breath became reserved
High altitude remained merciless
Snow-blind eyes squinted thankfully
As yards became feet
Became inches
Became respect for the unknown
Frozen feet
Cinched tight inside
Defiant crampons
Numbly impelled their serrated spikes
The blue iced chorus groaned displeasure
Reminding auger-encroachment
Frozen time was forever resilient
Destiny prevailed
Mortality hung suspended
As will over apathy
Courage over defeat
Found fear had been conquered
Life’s architecture
Like da Vinci ’s Vitruvian Man
Became a frozen tapestry
Life’s proportions
Past
Future
Present
Coalesced
Transformed
Became…
Some might say such a tale
Mere envisages
Penned into a journal
To bide some time
This night however…
The mountain-wall’s next attempt
Huddled in a tent weathering sub-zero temperatures
Sipped tea from his father’s battered cup
A legacy found long ago
Floating atop glacial runoff
Through the night
Ink continued flowing
Tin cup foreshadowing remained warm
First light neared
Twas the night before Christmas before I got home,
it took a train, bus, and taxi in falling snow;
and how that bus on the road did sway and roam,
while the wild snow and wind did howl, roar and blow.
It began in northern Ontario on a train,
and it was wonderful gliding through forests frozen;
then, onto a bus that wandered from lane to lane,
my wish to get home for Christmas seemed ill-chosen.
Then, somehow we arrived to my city in an icy snowstorm,
slipping and sliding- I ventured outside snow blind;
and got a taxi with a driver that was barely a life form,
but, when I saw home such lovely thoughts twined.
The driveway was a hill- now all ice and snow covered,
I started up and would just slip back down again and again;
so, crawling on my knees was the best way I discovered,
finally, I made it to the porch and front door- amen.
I entered like I had walked all the way from the north,
so, cold I shivered for an hour in front of the fire place;
but, I made it and how happy was my mom's face,
we kissed again, again and again- back and forth.
________________________
December 04, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/Coming Home For Christmas
Copyright Protected, ID 12-1506-612-04
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, The Night Before 3
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 12/23/2022
First Place
I’m broke ‘n’ don’t think I like it too much.
Last night’s cab ride. No one turns the wheel now.
I stare through cathedrals whose glass I can’t touch.
I want to go home but I can’t see how.
Snow blind. A slow rolling conveyor belt.
Fresh plumes of spiraled smoke smoldering air.
A fire outside. Flooded roads start to melt.
I want to get out but can’t pay the fare.
Grey sparrows take refuge in candlelight song,
their throaty notes grapple Gregorian chants.
I’ve stolen music where short breaths draw long;
where spared by my own Dark’s draconian dance.
Slow down the belt. Thin tin buckles. Louder.
Churned poverty stops - returns as black powder.
11/13/2018
By the grave I saw blacken snow flakes
Lightning flashed as I witness
Drawn down from blacken purple skies
Burst of brilliants, winter blast snow blind
Upon a midnight electrics static,
you came gently clanging
Deep into that darkness changing, snow blind
To warn me about the steady
That incremental isocheim - that incremental isocheim
Death shall bring trends
Eagerly I looked for tragedy, wintertime
The festivals alteration adjusting
The dynamics brought such sorrow, snow blind
I have dreams of flows misting snow men and women kissing
I crave the coolish, changeable climate
The cyclic cold snap contouring
Take thy gruel hot coal from out my heart
Come stand wit me twit the freezing blizzard
Come dear heart
Much I marveled the integrated icebox
The snow-covered snowplow steadying shoveling
So inviting is the thought…
To be frozen with me come not see will be so kind
If together we be 2 frozen lovers just snow blind
1/29/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
A Simple Pleasure
A simple pleasure in simple lines
Frosty mornings, that wear fuzzy slippers,
Bundled against the dawning amber chill
To watch the early robins through misted windows
With fragrant Lady Grey in stoneware mugs
And crispy buttered English muffins
Spread with marmalade.
On a rain soaked early afternoon
When raindrops tumble down rain chains,
As puddles drip from bare branches,
To settle in a comfy chair
With a warming bergamot scented
Cup of tea and little chocolate something.
And when the wind howls in icicles
And evening snow falls in frigid fingers,
Wrapping roads and rooftops in white blankets,
To view the snow blind fury from the fireside
With a spicy pekoe brew in a china cup
From garden parties long ago and faraway.
A simple pleasure in simple lines.
2-9-23
Contest: A Simple Pleasure
Theme Chosen: Drinking a Cup of Tea
Sponsor: Julia Ward