#icicle
Melting
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Entirely, as spring consumes the snow,
the thought of you consumes me: I am found
in rivulets, dissolved to what I know
of former winters’ passions. Underground,
perhaps one slender icicle remains
of what I was before, in some dark cave—
a stalactite, long calcified, now drains
to sodden pools whose milky liquid laves
the colder rock, thus washing something clean
that never saw the light, that never knew
the crust could break above, that light could stream:
so luminous,
so bright,
so beautiful . . .
I lie revealed, and so I stand transformed,
and all because you smiled on me, and warmed.
Keywords/Tags: spring, melting, snow, winter, icicle, stalactite, underground, cave, transformation, love, warmth
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
i want frostbite
and i want to freeze
i want a cold night
and i want a bitter breeze
i want to shiver
and i want to go numb
i want a frozen river
and i want a purple thumb
i want an unforgiving winter
and i want any feeling to go
i want an icicle splinter
and i want to be buried in snow.
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 3:28 PM UTC
The icicle slowly melted
It slowly melted in the afternoon sun
Melting while hanging off the rain gutter
Letting go of a small portion of its essence
Essence, that in the end, would be gone
Gone to create another form of its previous self.....
Brian Hill - 2019 # 178
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 10:04 AM UTC
icicle, clear archetecture
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
Your smile was a haven
A place I could visit under no circumstances
A blessing from god, but a gift by choice
You were cold, you were rough
Your outer shell was rigid, but your soul was smooth
Your breath was like frost, but your words, a kind tone
One of a kind creature, as you sat on your throne
Throne made of icicles, sitting alone
Awaiting your King, as you threw me out the door
But I didn’t care for I turned to stone
Yet you gave me your smile, a gift by choice
Made me feel safe, made me feel warm
Thawing your heart, felt like a chore
Yet I stuck around, you didn’t think I would
I didn’t think so either, but we still stand stood.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:21 AM UTC
That mundane drip is so torturous.
The end is inevitable,
each second,
each breath
each drip.
Is it not beautiful?
With death comes life.
After ever winter
comes a spring.
Our expiration is approaching.
Drip drop goes the clock,
slowly ebbing away at our existence.
As humanity slowly wears away into nothingness,
we pray to any available deity,
for more wind-chill,
for one drip longer.
We are all destined to die.
We just hope
To leave more of an impression
on society
than an inevitable puddle
destined to wash away
when tomorrow comes.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
@--\\---
she
lies with
eyes of
frost
---
bitten
like the last
stanza of a
poem unwritten
---
a trace melody
slipping away from
the mind like
water
from
the
end
of
an
i
c
i
c
l
e
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:33 AM UTC
Her breath forms beautiful icicles on the blood-stained window, her pale body lays in horrifying grace
Sunk in cheeks
Charcoal eyes
Her soul empty
gone.
Nothings left.
She feels only a slight tug as his fist curves into her fragile skull once again, smashing her petite figure into the window.
shatter
the beautiful icicle is exploded into a millon pieces and so the glass.
As her tired face hits the window sil
You can almost feel the break of her jaw as it crushes beneath the weight of his tremendous blow.
Her eyes are still open
But she is now completely gone
The last of her life shattered away with the icicle formed by her last breath.
v.v
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
icy shards are left in
my heart: once
it was filled with the
soft radiance of something
special;
you: an icicle piercing
on my heart insistently
until you yanked it
With your own words. it was to be
a heap of pieces of abrasions
littering at my feet; yet it melted
into a cooling puddle of water
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC