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Elliott G May 9
Glistening snow-white tips
Polished, sanded, draped with
the finest of tapestry silks.
Blessed with splendor, splendid splits
Crevasses, curves both shallow and steep
deep slopes stretching from mountain peaks.

Lustrous caves lurking, smirking as black crows write their prose
nose-deep in the blinding snow, with their ***** little paws.
Puffin, stay wary of blizzards and storms
deafening. Creaking floorboards of ice sheets
slip from beneath its tiny red toes
no edge to cling to, nor air to latch onto with its wings
a red stain left at the bottom of the pit.

Blizzards' lay a new layer of fresh snow
covering the deep scars of warmth
carved into the mounds of ice
splashed with red paint
Stained for millennia to come
Melancholy; the artist behind the painting.

Hollow breaks in serial layers of ice
Seeping black, oozing onto the ocean floor
Not floating, bloating, or staying,

etched into the lining, a thousand silent words
Melting with each new sunrise,
in which ray's they bathe
Wash from meaning

I am.
I am a cold, crisp autumn field.
I am a plush scarf in the breeze,
I am omnipresent, and yet never near.
I am a crackling fire in a winter freeze.
I am crumbling, cold, and free.
I am encumbered by the slush and snow.
I am waiting toe-to-toe.
You have seen me,
slouched, burdened, fatigued by the stress of the day,
waiting in the back of the bus bay.
I am all, and I am more.
There’s nothing like a frosty winter morning,
when the sky has had enough
of trying to look nice and welcoming
for you today,
but instead decided to take the day off
and retreat under the soft grey fluff of a blanket, and you too,
have done the same, in a show of comraderie,
cracking the window open just enough
to feel each other’s breath
across the zipping air
that won’t stop fussing
or biting off the skin on your right thumb.

There’s nothing like such a morning
when a bottomless pit of steaming hot coffee isn’t enough, though your heart-rate
is through the roof, but you pretend that’s good
for you, as if it’s pumping blood and heating up
your insides.

A morning when the requirement to stay inside
is no longer a discomfort but an opportunity –
for some calm piano tunes,
just like the wind
converging then diverging,  
to serenade you in the background, while your rough
cold hands, stretch out in their familiar spider web
but this time in a slower
motion stretch
and take you to the keyboard once again,
because there’s nothing like it on a frosty, freezing, gloomy winter  
Morning like this.
Death's Icy Kiss
I’ve heard tell
when someone freezes to
death, the end
comes after the dying
mind sends a
false warmth throughout
the body;
life’s final trick,
although I have
to admit, that last
lie is
more merciful than
most truth that
I’ve experienced.

I wonder if
the last
moments are filled
with fond memories of
better times;
sweltering July nights with
the kids,
the sulfuric smell of
fireworks filling
the air?
I wonder if the
man could almost
taste the
warm apple pie or
the grilled hamburger with
mustard dripping on his
silly Hawaiian shirt?
If this is the case
death’s icy kiss
isn’t so cruel.
Anastasia Nov 2020
a burning passion
so hot
it set my heart on fire
a freezing distance
so cold
it froze the tears in my eyes
a yearn for friction
so urgent
my skin cried for love
As the leaves crunch beneath my feet,
and the trees weep their now yellow leaves.
I'm filled with glee as I feel the cold breeze,
don't let Fall end, please.
Because the weather is nice,
and our house will be warm.
The chimney will smoke,
as the fire is born.
We'll be surrounded by friends,
and our family will swarm.

But you'll hear the pleas,
for the weather to be warm.
It'll come from the families whose clothes at torn.
So if it'll stop them from freezing,
stop the children from wheezing,
I guess you can stop
the cold Fall's breezing...
I wrote this last Fall, but my friend said it was stupid, so I never shared it. I don't care what that friend thinks anymore.
gelid wind blusters
drove a freezing current's trail
through the snow clad dales
Diksha Prashar Jul 2020
No one questioned.

Scars lined up

My arms.

Darkened shadows

I proudly wear

In day hour.

A numb torso

Breezing past,

With freezing hope.

There is beauty.

In still parts.
It gets dark
I close my eyes
Finish the night
I am afraid without you
it's cold here
Maybe you don't know
I'm without a kiss
I'm freezing
Mohamadreza Baseri
I'm freezing
Isabella Apr 2020
Blue lips, cracked and bleeding.
Shuddered breaths, barely breathing.
Stopping heart, slowly beating.
Deadly winter, snow abreezing.
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