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Josh G Sep 2018
These eyes are weighted
Offering peace to this fight
Sleep sweeps me away
Natasha May 2018
the shadows dance on the spot you left
indented in the mattress
a reminder of its emptiness.
we destroyed ourselves in the nick of time
to sell our souls to the new age
and uncover all the sins we wished to find.
the wind shakes the trees and my bones
our bodies no longer a place we call home
through trouble and turmoil
you'd think we'd have grown
but instead, we're trapped
in crowded bars, streets and houses
alone.
egghead Mar 2018
Chilly is the quake of snow in my bones
the fresh, white blanket of memories
rooted in ice.

Chilly is the ******.
the ache
the addiction
to your arms
to warmth.

Chilly is my heart when you are out of reach.
When my pining arms span out
to find only
the coldness
of chilly sheets.

Chilly is the wait–
to be warm.

to be real
when blizzards rage and howling
   arctic winds did blow
profuse precipitation packed Philadelphia
   til white aery mountains did over flow

meteorological heft wrought pinkish glow
polygons pin wheeled and pirouetted
   landscape imprint pure as driven snow
diminution of visual acuity

accrued from two score plus nineteen birthdays
still marvel at freeze-dried raindrops
   reaction toward crystalline phenomena
   continues to grow

kaleidoscope of multitudinous
   hydrospheric blitz krieg terrestrial show
metaphor wrapped in supreme whiteness
   from singular entities high to low

mother nature imbues testament  
   teaches to offer self for world to know
as corporeal of flesh and blood
   we forget identity among human row

subtle riddle well hidden in molecule
   two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen in tow
offer quiet sermon to cherish beliefs
   and personal paradigms vis a vis status quo.
vera Feb 2018
there is no color in your cheeks
as you lay flat on your back
finger raised to the air
a smile grazing your face
last breath escapes
but your smile never fades
i think i love it
the way you hate the world
and all the things in it
but you embrace the rain
like a mother embracing her child
- ive confused myself
Svode Oct 2017
The rain falls from the sky.
The endless sky pelts the cityscape with endless rain.

The rain feels soft to the touch,
a light breeze overtakes me soon after.
It's raining more now, although it isn't heavier.
The light breeze makes me think.
It soothes my nerves.

Look at the rain.
It never had any problems,
finding a job, finding friends,
finding love.

It's purpose is to fall
and get evaportated.
It's friends are beside it
and never leave.
It's love ls likely close by,
atleast I hope it is.

I don't want this innocent drop,
this cold peice in a myriad of rain,
to feel the harsh truth of reality.
And I don't want myself,
a shivering person in a myriad of rain,
to feel chilly any longer.
A Oct 2017
She walks;
A single sole scuffing the solid earth,
A pebble thrown into empty silence,
The night embracing the wisps of her hair,
Down to her frigid fingertips.
She screams;
An empty howl
As constant as the wind,
Waiting for another soul to entwine with.
She reaches out:
Honey,
Just sit down
And
Bleed.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
It's hard not to get angry
At the cricket in the closet
During repeated ratatats
Of the rain on the roof.
Relying on the radiator
Ramboing the reluctance
Resident in the rafters.
Warm winter wishes
For a will of the wisp winter
Waken to wisdom
Rather than rash reminiscence
And rootless resentment.

Bountiful blankets build
A buffer and bulwark
Against my acrimonious
Admonitions assailing
The ghastly gods of nature,
That get together and muster
A team of terrifying titans
That have twisted spring
Into a frozen thing
To, like last year, once again
Punish the thin-skinned.

I won’t leave my toes out,
My piggy toes or my snout
Where a breeze can tease
Or threaten to freeze
From nails to knees.
Oh, please. This one night
Do it right, heed my plight;
Some unspoken vow to keep,
To let a chilly soul sleep
Else I shall weep
In a winter this deep.
Danni Gohemi Jan 2017
I own horses, hence I take photos and write short poems that go with them. The latest  poem I wrote was about the first day of bitter cold air and first snow flakes falling, sticking to my horse's mane:

Oh, no! The Arctic Blast is here
With gusts of wind and chilly air
And tiny flakes of sparkly white
Much to the horse's great delight
Did you know, horses can handle extremely cold weather better than their owners do? Brrr...
i like rock music
i enjoy a cup of tea
i like ripped jeans
but i like sitting by the sea

i can spit out curses
and wear frilly shirts
i dislike chaos
but shout it with my words

i am a mess of contradictions
a stew of mixed up thoughts
a harmony in a song
with lyrics that are never sought
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