I am hearing it
winter’s freeze
the tightening of air
water light
a noisy gang of clouds
Snowflakes are feathered stones

In the field
this day builds its frozen bones
A beautiful disaster forms

Submerged in it
I listen for birds  
There is nothing

A moment’s wind
brittles my breath
numbs my ears
I listen for a note
There is nothing

A hush of sleep
tucks into January’s bed
Even the dogs stay inside
to refuse the ice jabs
into their paws

The cold cracks the skin
of my hands
sharpens its blade
slices deeper

At the edge of the field
I stand in stillness
an ice-covered statue
waiting for the company of pigeons

____________

©dah / dahlusion 2014
all rights reserved

"January" was first published in 'The Canon's Mouth' (UK)

Editor: Greg ***

Shiver
Because it's cold
The ice growing colder still
It wraps around your heart
Ripping it apart

It continues on
Growing black
Numbness spreads
You feel nothing but a dull ache
Your body beginning to shake

It shows nothing on the outside
You show only a smile
A mask to hide the cold
You have nothing at stake
For being a fake

It's not like they will notice
The ache inside
The shiver that erupts
The cold in your eye
They will continue to believe your lie

The wall will remain up
Because they don't care enough
To light the fire
To show you the light
Of the world that you lost your fight

I'd see the smiles of betrayal
And greed in the most innocent faces.
Voices of cruelty and abuse
Echoing like music in a ballroom.
I stand in the center, surrounded by
Shadows and screams.

It's possible I could run,
But the ice of your heart
Beneath my heels keeps me
Frozen in my sorrowful doubt.

Deliberate drops of dwindling black streams
seep between barriers into my dreams,
and maliciously mocks my frightened soul.
My mind, it happens to hollow beyond my control.
The chill-biting breath forms patterns of lace,
intertwining my mind with deceptive grace.
How beautifully this new terror becomes me!
This wave of sadness and I seem to agree.
Obsidian frost covered sinister thought,
with insidious ice of intricate wrought.
My thoughts are repressed by shadows that so silently swarm,
while crystals of darkness begin to form.
And so, while I laugh at my darkened state,
and dip into treacherous valleys of woe,
I carve a downward smile yet almost too late;
into that bright face from long, long ago.

In the twist of a sweet winter morn I am
buried, yet no more lifeless
than the slumbering roots of this yesterday
forest. Brush the snow off my eyelashes--yes, just so--and find
that I am but an icy glow, transparent beneath
the fairy touch of your marble lips.

only the sound of the rain
and the beat of my heart
there he was
standing in front of my door
soaking wet to the floor
maybe it was a mirage
from the cold I was having
even so
his ice-cold touch
were melting my fever lips
when he asked me
to love him with all I am

I see you go towards
the light of
streetlamps, get ******
right up into the heart
of the electric fire
and
burn
(or melt I
suppose)

A canvas burnt red,
Stood tall, in flames.
No time to tread,
The receding rouge waves.
I seemed to be, a tad bit lost,
Understandable, I know.
The kiss but a frost,
A cold,pale shadow.
When fire and ice,
Fuse in glee.
They lovingly entice,
All those who see.
Naturally, I too was caught,
In a sea of joy.
What it brought,
Was no evil ploy.
A feeling so cold,yet warm,
It shivered down my spine.
While it seemed to swarm,
Every one of my nine.
This was just a dream,
A trance mesmerising.
The noiseless scream,
Echoed,tantalising.
Then she entered,
A light in the day.
And so my heart tendered,
With her smile,forcing me to stay.
The grains of sand,
Seemed to stop their descent.
While a single hair strand,
Shined,in the moon,crescent.
The vacuum of nothing,
Had begun to pull.
While clearly,something,
Had formed,rather full.
I took one last glance,
At her smile serene.
And was caught in a trance,
That seemed, not mean.
Alas I had no choice,
But to walk away slowly.
No time to rejoice,
Time only,to be lonely.

Clear Skies Vanilla
is the only soft serve
on the days we have no clouds
and none can be seen
floating on our horizons

it is our seasonal choice
that we wish could come
all year long,
could be as predictable
as *Pumpkin Spice in October
or Eggnog in December
even uncelebrated Baseball-Nut
springs up at the right time.

If only our skies could
be the layers of a sundae--
a limited selection
that always comes down to
hot fudge, nuts,
with a defrosted cherry on top--
then our decisions
would be made for us
we could never
be wrong.

Instead we deliver
Icy Thundery Blueberry BubbleGumy hard serve
on those days--
too complicated to understand
too unwilling to shorten their title
too difficult to be simply BlueGumTuesday
because the sky,
too mixed up to be...Blue.

We raise our scoop
for each serving to dish out--
with them we learn our taste
what calms our nerves
and how to evaporate the rain,
because when we get
to have those cloudless days
we'll have the day
to be flavorful.