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Lane O Aug 2020
Embers of autumn
Swept away by frigid wind
Winter's arrival
Nidhi Jaiswal Jul 2020
Frigid Nights
Thick Forests
My shattered hair
Ghost spirit
Are wandering
Like an owl
At
Frigid nights.

This poem is based on imagination
FRIGID
N
I
G
H
T
S
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2020
The language of Los Angeles
gets lost in translation.
Even the rain clouds
drop their contents
with an unfamiliar accent.
The peculiar way
she tilts her head,
the distinct way
she crosses her legs,
are every bit incorrect.
The uninvolved way
she sits, steps, speaks,
alludes to her lack
of the irrepressible nature
surrounding her day.
"The rest is rust
and stardust."

She is quite
American.

There is no turning of the shadow
under a European sun.
The silence of her heart,
the stillness in her limbs,
is barren, muted,
her leaves brittle.
In the breezy part
of the afternoon,
her core lay hollow
and unfelt,
regardless of...
He wakes her,
demurely she makes
an effort at soixante-neuf,
arbitrarily she bends for him.
"Her dream-gray gaze
never flinches."

She is quite
American.
Nothing wrong with being American, this just illustrates the differences in cultural behavior and belief systems.

Inspired by the poem "Wuthering Heights," by fellow HP writer B.
Bhill Jan 2020
Confidence in all of us is attached and frigid
Opportunities will always survive and be there
The burning desire to better ourselves is genuine
Can we really be so ignorant to believe that someone or something can stop us
I THINK NOT  

Brian Hill - 2020 # 31
Go after it!
Anthony Pierre Nov 2019
Above Mount Fuji
Sizzling, the noon sun suspend
frigid smoke erupts
Haiku at noon at Mount Fuji
Sean Thienpont Nov 2019
Frigid steps
Uninvited guests
Hideous segues
Rendezvous', no ways
Puritanical loves
Overvalued doves
But don't forget the turkey!
I'll like it more when it's here...probably
Kasti Mar 2019
I'll hold your hand (even while the world watches) in my hand; feeling the warmth at our fingertips. Your eyes (being the deepest sea I've ever seen) make me forget the futility and uselessness of it all. I never thought I'd find a reason to go on (passively watching the tides of life crash by my feet) but your presence provides the reason to continue. I want to spend my life with you, clumsily dance days away, badly singing along to songs, and holding you as close as my heart is to me each night, maintaining the pleasant warmth and comfort between the two of us despite the frigid wind beating at our backs. I'll hold your hand [even as the world (as they would hate our happiness) watches]. As you, your company, give me the strength to tread on. If only I would simply allow my fingertips to graze yours.
Summer school gave too much time to think
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