Short Icebox Poems

Short Icebox Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Icebox by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Icebox by length and keyword.


Black Fryday

the inlaws and outlaws have left
the turkey has so much less heft
got pies for the flies
and naps for the eyes
the icebox has suffered from theft

but

still got ‘nuff leftovers to make peach gobbler
Form: Limerick


Premium Member Funny

Funny the way it was then Feisty teen who loved sweets Fine icebox fruitcake served Fruit quite different mixed From citrus~lemons, limes Flipped fruit flew from teen's lips Fantasy taste was gone

Premium Member Wastrel Summer

The cloying sangria
of freesias
invades the screen.
Amber bees whine
in wastrel air
like breezeless fans.
My shirt 
is porcelain skin.
I dangle one metronome leg
off the arm
of a wicker chair
on the porch
as icebox rivulets
trickle down my sides.
In a far corner
dead flowers 
curl
in a glass vase.
Form: Imagism

The Freeze

January digs deeper into snow drifts.
Chill fingers cripple backbones,
make us walk like matchstick men.
February is just a name we give to tomorrow,
as if we could open that icebox
to see if the sun still rises over un-seeable horizons.
Time drags, then of a sudden, pushes us into snowfields
sprinkled with concrete daffodils.

Premium Member Icebox Confessions

Our fridge is quite the crazy scene
in hopes my girl will eat.
Miss Judy brings juiced tangerines;
a glass is such a treat!

My girl is not a fan, it seems,
of watermelon-lime,
but as for me, I’ve high esteem:
so nuanced and sublime!

Our freezer’s stocked with sorbets now,
hope it’s not untoward,
but secretly, there’s one or two
I hope my girl abhors.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Strange Grief

"STRANGE GRIEF."


the cigarettes 
are gone, 
the meats are 
rotting 
in the icebox, 
the city lights 
hear me 
but know this 
isn't 
asking 
for 
anything.

you're more 
than what 
you've been 
forced to 
believe:
I'm just the 
man in 
between. 
I'm just the 
knowledge 
you'll soon use 
for 
your 
purple 
devils.

the death of 
love isn't 
its death but 
it's 
dissipation 
while 
eyes look for 
love
in
others.


by: Chicano Eddie
7.11.19

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