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Kyle Kulseth Feb 2
I hope the snow never stops again!
I hope the Winter sinks under our skins!
I hope our four feet freeze
to the cold concrete
while our ghosts both escape in our breath!

If the thaw never comes to our aid
I'll be fine in these tracks that we've made.
I'll be okay right here
with a frostbit sneer
painted large on my **** stupid face!

               You've got the brains...
                   But not the time...

                  I had the dreams...
        But you knew I'm not too bright.

You'd rather leave than throw me a bone.
I'd rather live out my days in the cold
than beg you for one
while you don't have fun
and resent me for you growing old.

I'd rather freeze than thaw with a lie!
You'll be gone with the peak daytime high.
You're the smart one with big Springtime plans.
And I'm holding the bag with chapped hands...
Just a quick one. Been a real long time. Typical ****: winter imagery, bitterness, self-deprecation...But, hey, no cuss words or references to drinking in this one! So maybe I'm growing up! Oh, wait...there's a "****."
Dave Robertson Jan 2021
There was snow and ice before,
a window, pause
of sharp prettiness passing
that petty poets could read a lot into

or just realise that once it’s gone
the garden looks like ****
Andrew Layman Oct 2020
In copious amounts
the feelings came
torn asunder
then left the same

The card went unread
the flowers came
but this wintry day
left no mention of my name.
BJFWords Dec 2019
Far and awa fae the light making shadows.
Sight to behold in the afternoon snow.
Gallant destruction in wall tumbled ivy.
Tight as the hack of the hobbling crow.

Parson and gardener, nipped on their fingers.
Wrapping up, fenced, for the winter to come.
Cauld is the cloak on the journey to pasture.
Tilling the field and the prayer book hum.

Frost blaws to thaw as the sun yawns, persistent.
Batter the drum as the hail thumps in time.
Speed through the wind as it gnaws faces, twisted.
Slush churns to wet as the welcome bells chime.

Winter yir song, as it puffs into whisper.
Herald the twilight for new days to speak.
Underfoot crack as your hold starts to weaken.
Buttercup sun tips her hat to the bleak.
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
The big ice is melting, you can't stop it.

It's not your fault. You did nothing. You were made for such a time.
You happened, to be live,
right.
Look, out o'body, like from the moon,

what part can we conntinue to ****? What part of
The earth, our spaceship spiraling through

the galaxy, you believe that, right? The galaxy,

one among, right, many many many galaxies, right? We know
somebody knows,

but me, do I know? You know, but me
the maker of this bubble

fractaling into
now.
All time in all place is now right now. Life the fool says has an end

thought speed. Time, endure in timeless thought

constant instant

----
cross di mention al for givin' me this opportunity
to compete
for your attention, in th enoise... e'therealorgnot

pause, plenty o' time, think about nothin'

Peace making is as intuitive as love making was when you...

did you ever, make
anything? Love as a word lacks the power folk claim it holds,

truth. There's the peacemaker's hammer, by god.
Truth.
Chains fallen from the oppressed,
captives all set free,

was that not the fast we fasted? What is this we see,
now?
******* mockin' wisdom of d'sages and richi-shitstictics
myst or mist
occlusin inclusion, bubble barrier, here

safe in no doubt, no fear, no lie, keep saying it,
till it's true,

or yu can imagine it is and see it was not due to you.
raw but timely, if y'ax me.
Hunter Green Jun 2019
Does this wall that separates me,
From the chance I have to fully be free,
Require another, a strong and guiding future,
Some opposite to rectify, or is that just a rumor?

A rose in light dawning,
The life of the earth,
A season of thawing.
Oh golden light, leave me now,
This endless fight, something new to be found.
Paul Apr 2019
First, a tundra in stasis;
a white-*****, emptied book
whose unmade letters sleep:
icy, furled, and blank. Then,

breath; a near audible thawing
of unbridled shapes and mute fire;
now, the bright stampede. Hooves
breaking into the field. Next,

words.
a poem about the process of conceiving and writing a poem. hope you like it.
Chrissy Ade Mar 2019
A snake will always be a snake
No matter how much you want it to change
You cannot will something to change
When it is comfortable in its skin
A snake will scour the terrains of this earth,
Slithering on its underbelly to patiently wait
For the perfect opportunity to present the perfect victim
A bite that strong will never infuse you with honey,
Sweetening your veins like a cup of coffee
No, a snake will permeate you with venom
Traveling through your blood like a wildfire,
Spreading its poison as fast it can
Burning everything from the inside out
Hoping to **** you in an instant
It feeds on the tragedy for breakfast
But savors the pain for dinner
Accept the nature of its ways
Because trust is foreign to a snake
Believing its heart can be thawed and saved
Is a waste of time
When its wickedness and deceit
Are the only things that can keep it alive
Long time, no post :P I found a writing prompt online where I had to include three specific words: snake, honey and thaw! I hope you guys like the end result of this!
Juhlhaus Feb 2019
Mercury expands
As pinched faces are eased and
Flowers remembered
Hints of a thaw.
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