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Ice
It gets ruined by what it was made,
It becomes what it was ruined by,
the abused being forced to change its form,
becoming the abuser thinking it's the norm.

It's born in warmth, experiencing love.
It dies in the cold, broken and alone.
It thinks it's found warmth in someone else,
but really, it's just melting all over again.

That someone else doesn't care what comes of the ice,
so long as they keep tasting good for someone else's taste,
To them, the ice died as soon as they entered,
That soda will always remain self-centred.

The ice wishes it could go back to it's youth,
when it was happier and living it's truth,
not covered in someone else's toxicity,
and watch as they begin to act,
differently.
Inspired by that one Tiktok video about "Ice" - I just knew I had to make something out of it as soon as I saw that video
Lawrence Hall Aug 11
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

             Leave it to ****** – The Shakespearean I.C.E. Episode

                                         Dramatis Personae:

Ward, a husband and father

Wally, Ward’s teenaged son

June, Ward’s wife, accomplishing hussefery in a dress and pearls

******, Ward and June’s younger son


Ward:

Wally, I knowest thou hath merry plans for the morrow
But I must tell thee, to thy woe and sorrow
That thou’rt to stay home, and mow the lawn

Wally:

Oh, golly, gee, seest thou my face turn wan?
Beloved father, I cannot with thy orders comport
For I cannot find my comradely passport
Nor, in addition to that paperwork dearth,
Yea, verily, my certificate of birth!
Without which workers are subject to arrest
By I.C.E., as the news and warnings attest

June:

‘Tis true – I.C.E. feareth every gangbanger and yob
But they will imprison some kid at his job
And Superman might get thee; I.C.E. hired him today
That is their new truth, justice, and th'American way

******:

Gee, Wally, if thou’rt carried to Alcatraz
Can I have thy room?

Voice Off:                            

                                                      We needeth no stinkin’ warrants!

Exeunt omnes, pursued by Dogberries with guns
Samuel E Jul 26
Crystal gusts whistle—
fox paws print icy gravel
by evergreen pines
Because I get fixated on haiku sometimes.
This is not what we were taught in school
Fights, mayhems, police arrests and brutalities
In the soiled streets. Compatriots, it's never cool
To see so much blood and so many fatalities.

Competing banners are everywhere. A ticker-
Tape parade has gone wrong. Terror and horror
Got together for the wrong reasons, at the wrong
Place. There are too many obscenities in the song.

I am so stunned that I don't want to say too much
The images are absolutely nefarious and repugnant
This is unbelievable. America does not deserve such
A ferocious slap in the face. This is lewd and aberrant.

Copyright © October 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Bekah Halle Jun 16
Ice
Slices through heat 
Similar to "Singer" sewing scissors on lace
Destabilising --
Equilibrium 
With a casual, cool, calm, collectedness,
As if nothing could 
Pierce its particles;
Ruffle its feathers,
Unsync its code.
It doesn't matter what I say,
You won't read it anyways.
But you don't hurt me,
You make me happy.
What makes me unhappy isn't you,
It's when you push me away,
Please stop icing me out.
O heart, soul, core, me:
If I do exist,
I am exactly pristine in condition
Under the surface of a pond
Frozen in eternal ice.

O want, wish, will, dream:
The ice that denies life,
Sapping its oppressive strength,
Transforming its innocent weakness;
Making brittle the bold,
Making hard the soft.

O form, frame, flesh, face:
The palm of my hand
Is spread against the bottom of the ice,
Reaching up as though to grasp
All the nothing I aspire to.
how cold is the beauty and perfection of appearance
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