The cold is my commander, it taunts me, while it steals my sheaths of warmer cleaving skin sections exposed by its notions and collected conscious. The sounds are complicated, the moons azurean hue resembles the coldness of my cigarette's embers blue, and then the commander shucks my final breath away. It isn't something that I barely feel, but rather something that lightly see. It's hoarfrost births its fickle shell of hardrime on the last of those interstices I once called my fingers. And from this choke, this frozen voice is detained by the vox ice amplifier that steals each noise. Besides, in an interruption I hear our whorish neighbors score of shouting scripted shouts, and screaming scripted screams. Each day she becomes less and less like any real human being. It's hard to believe that behind these walls that shield me from the albicant and atrocious heraldry winter casts me through, these sounds are concentric like limited Earth words written in the prompts that some ill and wanton succubus would. If only to lure herself from the pains she gained while lying to those amidst her closest ties. I am further distressed, though fully dressed narrowly watching bits of frozen water interlace themselves beneath freezing in the corners of my mind. When until the shaking and commandeering of my mortal sounds, disperse amidst the ferocity that Spring white snow absconds. The tremulent vocal chords are hailed by a hard-rimed ****, who ensuingly rips the cantering spirit from each last place it stood. Only those who know this wind could speak about the way it genuflects and obsesses on these rules. This freezing genuflection hails to every servant of its rein, I can barely exhale the inspiration that rises from the head, until any skin exposed to air is reclaimed by my commander for good. Then each neighbor's head may lilt upon the piste, and pray for something more balmy than negative eleven degrees.

I’m small enough to cry for those with frozen teardrops
who can’t get up off the side of the road to die in peace
So I'll abide in this polar freezing cold silent deliverance
where a  hollow warmth  hides the tears that  aren't for
cryin’ alone

There’s a bitter arctic wind blows right through the tree trunks
there’s no shelter leaning on the dream of the leeward other side
This winter isolation grasps on impatient pieces of frayed light
like hope a mustard sized seed of shine may move venerable
mountain peaks

Who ever knows how long salvation lasts ? They said he died
sleeping on a cardboard  comforter and blue  plastic tarp duvet;
a holey old coat stained with all what went wrong in life …
And .., I feel a sickening guilt of a warming fire's thickening
smoke

The chimney’s icicles drip an angel’s frozen teardrops
But .., I can’t find no heaven in this big ol’ world ...


                                           *wild is the wind ... January 4th, 2017

Something about this winter seems colder than ever.
Late.
Sudden.
All at once.
It's the type of cold I haven't felt in a long time. Lingering.
Something you can't get rid of.
A breath of fog in the air.
Old memories.
Air that replenishes you. Making things new.
Air you don't mind suffering for.
Chilled to the bone.
Fingers numb. Toes nonexistent.
But sometimes still, I stand on my porch, cold, dreaming of blankets, and cocoa, and you.
Snow falls on my skin. Chilling. A reminder of how cold it really is, and I have to pretend that you didn't cross my mind.

My skin is like ice,
And your touch is fire.
And you've melted me,
Melting me,
Into something I don't recognize.
No more walls, no more hiding,
No more being afraid.
Ever so slowly getting comfortable
With being loved.

Your heart is ice,
There's warmth close, beneath the surface.
But you don't speak to what your mind thinks,
You don't speak of the fire in your eyes,
Or the storm within your chest.
But I see it,
And I know it,
Because I feel that fire in your gaze
And it bleeds into me through every kiss,
And I know that storm fairly well,
It guides me back to your arms
When I feel wayward and scared.

And your voice is level and steady,
An array of soft orange at its' most anxious,
But cool blue and green at its' most loving and calm,
And I've grown so used to that
That when it's not,
Whether it be jokingly so or otherwise,
I grow concerned due to the intentions of others before you.

I'm freezing, honestly,
But I know when you're home,
I have a fire to look forward to.

Skin heating up
Body burning
The pain is hard to endure
But you need the money
So you work
And keep your mouth shut

Your lips turned blue
The freezer too cold
Your shivers are violent
But you have to get it done
You have other stuff to do

People are upset
You frantically try to help
Help them, then back to work
But they make it difficult
So you call your manager
To ensure their needs are met

Your boss is angry
And takes it out on you
Why? You ask, but you don't know
You only do your job
So you can pay your bills
Because your living a life that just isn't free

Work all day
And work all night
Your tired
And you ache
But you have bills
So you'll do the work for the pay

Crystal drops falling
from grey sky.
Ticking dripping creating
circles in a pound.
The sky is crying.
My heart is feeling.
A little bit freezing.
A cold ice coating.
Let love floating.
Over rivers and
oceans flowing.
Be kind to the unknowing.
You never know how
the wind is blowing.
Always look straight ahead.
Let the good prevail over evil.
Feel the warmth of the sun
in your heart so appealing.

Freezing cold
in the night behold.
Sweet silent night.
In darkness delight.
Holding you tight.
Feel your warmth
through my skin.
So close next to you.
Such a intens feeling.
Close your eyes.
Don't fear the night.
May your dreams
oh so steamy.
I kiss you good night.