Snowflakes look like powdered sugar to put on your French toast
Gather to make Snow Cream add milk, vanilla and sugar
Under the scope it looks like shaped etched ice crystals
Put colored flavoring on it and make it a Snow Cone
Lay down and make a Snow Angel, build it up and make a snow fort
Too much makes a blizzard for snow days too little makes a dusting

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The dark clouds are rolling in quickly, wild wind blows fast and fiercely
Many leaves and twigs start twirling around and circling
Feeling like Edgar Allen Poe, In the distance I can hear some echo's
Of many dog's barking in the distance, at this very instance
I hear the blaring whistle of a train and heavy sounds of pouring rain
Sitting on my bed feeling cozy and warm just enjoying the thunderstorm

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not digging this nausea. let’s just get to the high part.
loose my body. it does not even exist.
all in my mind, it’s only a matter of time.
til these moments come to pass.
left my mind drift away, let it float on to space.
continuum into another dimension, another one where i am nothing at all.
voidless disaster, turning light into darkness.
continuing the circle, letting you find your clues.
it all ties together.
i am here and nowhere.
here and nothing.
everything and madness.
*****… pure stench of melted memories that aren’t real anymore.

Severe Siberian shivery stinging
Below freezing, bitter, bleak, brisk
Painful, penetrating piercing
Frigid frosty frore
Icy intense inclement

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Stuck inside for quite a few days
After the sky hurled down the ice, snow and freezing rain
Leaving bitter-cold temperatures that are quite frightening to hear
All the news reports suggest “staying inside and being safe”
I've decided to spend the days reading some on my collection of books
On presidents such as Lincoln, Truman, and Kennedy.
Sifting through information I've received of  family stories and genealogy
Writing letters to an old home-bound friend in another state named Dot
Sipping hot chocolate and Cinnamon toast by the roaring fireplace

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Really I’m sitting by a cold sliding glass door wearing two sets of clothes writing this free-verse poem.

Our town has shut down
It’s much like a ghost town

All the businesses are closed
No one wants to be exposed

To painful temperatures way below zero
Our weatherman called it temps of subzero

The streets are empty of cars as we have come to know
But filled quite thick and wide with sheets of ice and snow

The storm has knocked out the power to so many
Everyone stay inside and play games with Aunt Jenny

Power lines are weighted down with the ice
The lights keep flickering, and this isn't nice

My house is creaking and moaning from this cold
But the heat inside is on high and, up I'm holed

Glad to be where it’s nice and warm as toast
For supper I plan potatoes, carrots and a Roast

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Won boxing matches with Lewis , Lasky, Corn Griffin, Swiderski,
Then many more titles with Griffiths, Farr, Stillman, and Levandowski,

Jackson, Caggiano, Darnell and Dobson
Something he could tell his grandson

His greatest match of all was the title he earned against Max Baer
The fight was the ultimate win at Gardens of Madison Square

A very passionate man for his wife and children he went to great lengths
To keep his family together during the depression, even in times of brink

Served honorably in WWII as a 1st Lieutenant
Owned a surplus supplier of marine equipment

Helped to construct the bridge Verrazano
It was the proud city’s beautiful Picasso

Gone is Jim Braddock, a movie about him, CINDERELLA MAN to be sure he’s not forgotten
His Granddaughter Rosemarie Dewitt  played his neighbor Sara Wilson, who was downtrodden

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Biopoem