"coziest" poems
i wish to reveal a most precious thing
as Spring has begun
my dearest Daddy’s Birthday is done
he is not a man of celebrations
i want to disclose this personal’s manifest
as his blueprint, i am really beatific
i am very fortunate to be able to recollect
all and everything
to be your beloved daughter
is one most precious and delightful evidence
such a coziest feel to have you in my presence
you embody all that is calm and peaceful
no other impervious Daddy then you, my handsome sensitive
your BirthDay, dearest Daddy is never nebulous
the reputations you left us are all fabulous
you told me tales, they are in fact realities
you are one of a kind, your mind so sublime
you constantly cared and loved me, i am your prime
i love to tell superlatives about you
you deserve the most, dearest Daddy,
i am very proud of you, of your humor and your visions
your cartoons, drawings, and your fascinating paintings
you conjured magic in all your writings
C.C. was your weekly talkings
Charlie was your weekly walkings
in the world of Charlie Chan
i am very fond of you, my very talented Daddy
i know your world too, owned by you as a stage performer….
i remember everything, every detail hidden in my mind
i wish to reveal the most precious thing
last night i went to your place, i was wondering
you were not there, i started sobbing….
© Sylvia Frances Chan
21st March 2017
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
You only loved her
In the coldest of winters
When she curled up like a ball of fur
In the coziest sweater
She purred
You held her close
Nestled in her snowy hair
Her eyelashes closed & she’d doze
Waiting ‘till spring to bloom
Like a rose
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 2:15 PM UTC
Hello again, heartless friend.
So slyly in the backgrounds blend.
Your veering vanish, vaguely here.
Your gaze of increments - insincere.
Healer of the hearted scars.
Swallower of the heavened stars.
The paths in which we dream and delve.
Allow the doubling ones to twelves.
Slices of the eternal elude.
Movements of monstrous magnitude.
A hesitant dawdle. A lingered delay.
The mountainous sway is steered away.
Hoarded heaps of hourglass bliss.
Outnumbered by wasted nothingness.
With interludes of want, of miss.
To slowly morphed indifference.
The pendulums that abruptly swing.
The burdens they still hope to bring.
The envied earn of Earth's endeavor.
The better late. The better never.
The eerily empty echoed need.
The blossomed tree from planted seed.
The curse of a continuous grief.
The ever stealthy, silent thief.
The cogs, gears, hours and hands.
The burn of beauty, bleak and bland.
The coziest, surrounding choke.
The whelm from the transparent cloak.
The running out. The ever essence.
The grand keeper. The watchful presence.
The potential of the plainest plan.
The currency of the wisest man.
What horrors - hallowed by the tick.
Will sound for both healthy and sick?
Will compose secrets, never told?
Will fumble flame to frigid cold?
The end stays always promptly nigh.
For the intimate, infinite blink of eye.
I fear your wasting, more and more.
The constant count to twenty four.
Unresurrectable and second to none.
Airborne, regardless of having fun.
As retrospective wisdom blinds.
Our youthful hopes and manic minds.
On and on. From time to time.
Song to song and rhyme to rhyme.
Betrayer of all mice and men.
Less of if and more of when.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 6:39 AM UTC
today
it’s winter
time to enjoy
the irony of winter
least favorited
longest season
shortest days
many times gloomy, dark, depressing
somehow manages to glisten, sparkle, shine
coldest yet it’s
coziest
dangerous yet it’s
peaceful
colorless yet it’s
magical
choose not to
complain and wish it away
choose to
live in the present and enjoy it while it’s here
because
summer will come soon enough
for now
it’s winter
time to enjoy
the irony of winter
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
*Solitary, lie-back moments; of being in the coziest of places surrounded by the most mundane yet magical. Melancholy has a way of tinging itself with those little nuances of memory, and those little nuances of memory tinge themselves with shades of bittersweet and sad recollection over time. Silent reckonings, simplistically suppressing thoughts - all huge contradictions to the slow, natural motion of letting the waves wash over you.
Is this emotional maturity? Is this a step forward? Life is always full of too many intricacies to tell for sure.
The familiar scents of tearstains and revulsion being punctuated by the occasional flicker of light ahead; pain and perseverance, hope and the promise of heaven.
We are so full of contradictions - concrete, grounded beings yet with so many abstractions and complexities in our heads. A constant grapple, a relentless cycle. Coming back to places of washed up memories has this effect on you; but you pull through, you plough through quicksands, you pick up the small rationalities that have gone astray, and you move forward like you’ve always been doing before. It’s the only thing we know how to do.
Walk on our own, on our own two feet.
And pray that whatever knocks us down, will never be enough to sink us.*
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Sweater sleeves dangling past your cold fingertips;
leaves drifting soundlessly to your feet.
The air is so cool and crisp and it feels so clean
and fresh against your skin and in your lungs.
You can feel the past slipping away,
making way for the new and exciting things the autumn season brings you.
Long, intellectual, enlightening conversations
that happen in the coziest of places with the friendliest of people.
Warm coffees and teas drank next to equally as
warm fireplaces and comforters.
Ginger and spice scenting every home you enter.
Wishes being made and promises being kept.
Walking hand in hand with the love of your life,
wearing jackets and mittens and knowing that everything is finally alright.
Nose kisses and long hugs to chase away the cold.
I wouldn't call is autumn so much as the one time of year you ever feel at home.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 7:37 PM UTC
I can walk
this world,
tall or short,
figure one or figure eight,
black or white
has long as my word is on everyone's lips,
has long has i top the gossip list.
Fame,
name
all the same.
Money,
folly
all making me naughty.
Pleasure,
leisure
all in my ATM treasure.
Screams,
dreams
all over the TV screens.
I vanish
and smear my ego with a gold polish.
Taking a break, i call it.
I could snap my fingers in an empty room
and in an instant it becomes a party room.
I walk
through the storm,
cloth the sun,
re-decorate the night sky.
I'm in the world
i'm breathing
and i'm famous.
What is the point in not bragging?
When my style isnt manual.
What is wrong with being sick in the head,
when ranking makes you un-stable:
most expensive car,
most craziest style,
most funkiest hair,
most hottest chick,
most coziest house,
most expensive jewelleries,
most socially active,
most drunkest driver,
most party crasher,
most grammy receiver...
It never stops
till your hand drops
and suddenly the light leaves your eyes
and your heart takes to retirement.
The flesh
forgets to carry with it
all it had acquired.
The Grave shuts the stink.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC
Drink up dear children, we have a long way to go. Tuck your hopes into these boots along with your pant legs; it will keep you warmer than the coziest fleece socks ever could.
Wear this wool with you until you hear the kettle cry. It will serve you well to stay within this wisdom.
These beaded braids breathe more than stories. I have enough wit within them for us all to share.
Take the time to tread in the springs before you leave. The sulfur does more than clear the sinuses.
Remember your name while you trek the ice and keep home in your heart as the salmon.
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 7, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
They cheered it in to the inn
It didn’t understand it was dazed
For nine months it was unused to din
Their celebrations left it amazed.
It was afloat in the coziest darkness
Fed on the fluid of its host
The light now brought tears to its face
And they welcomed it with a toast.
Thoroughly washed the cute little swan
Couldn’t fathom the new begotten space
Yet it sought the warmth of just one
Looked from many for one face!
Its face made her forget the tearing pain
In making way for the blob of her blood
Gushed out from her a joyous fountain
She was carried away in a torrential flood.
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
Silent winter nights enveloped in fog ...
Clouds Of smoke puffing out of the mouth,
& the only noise you hear is the cold breeze that whiffs past your skin sending a chill down your spine..reminding how cold a place this world can be..and not even being in the coziest rooms or bagging up in the warmest quilt can help..the heart, frozen cold.. the ashes from the embers of the dying flame flies...all it wants is to be wrapped up in a warm hug to resurrect its faith in coziness of love..
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
I remember the millions arms that has comforted me till date,
I also remember that in this twilight of my voyage called life,
Not one but altogether only,
Could satisfy me from all aspects.
As warm as the tears almost rolling down my wrinkled cheeks,
I paused to remember having seen and felt all the zillions of experiences I had ever dreamt of,
All the houses under the dream Devadarus lived under,
All the wonders that has rushed the blaze in my veins,
Before, On or After, for definite!
I stand staring into this abyss of seeing the faintly sparkling firefly of dots,
Of the cosmos of linking all that I have dreamt of seeing, smelling, feeling and hearing,
to have already surpassed me,
Before, On or After, for definite!
And all that I look forward is the cloud-clad sparkling and coziest fluffy heaven of my dreams,
If all has to be true,
That part for definite should be too!
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
and days like this
i miss you more
than any other.
in this cold
i could see your breath
and our bodies
wouldbecloser.
for the warmth,
of course.
your glove fingers
wouldn't fit into
my mitten hands
so you would
put yours
in
my
pocket.
on days like this
i miss you more
than any other.
this time,
on
any other day
we would be
sipping hot hot
coffee
and making jokes
about our past.
we would
probably
make a fire
if we had remembered
to get wood.
if not,
we would gather
all the blankets
sleeping bags
and quilts
we owned
and would make
the greatest
coziest
blanket fort
on record.
days like that
are ones I miss.
and it's hard
that today is
not that day.
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 10:30 AM UTC
the lumberjack handles his axe
delicately
rolling it over in his fingers
like a gambler itching to make the bet
adrenaline saturating his sweat.
the anticipation lingers
until
a slight trace of malevolency
breaks free from his tips
parched for a place
to quench his needs
where no one succeeds.
the desire for release
achieved in complete ease
a snap!
and all your woes fade away
as your sanity dismantles into decay.
derived from the ever close disease
that sulks temptingly
behind the coziest fleece
that couldnt be banished
by even the sludgiest grease.
life would be better off
without its persistance
tugging at his cloth.
everyday shows a new way.
be smart about how you want to play.
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 12:32 AM UTC
while falling asleep and practicing being vulnerable
she came across her doublest of entendres:
the stone cold ***** had already made amends
but kept her flatline on low-profile
as to not relive &
as to not regret
(so to speak, so to forget...)
the lowlife suffered a pay rise
and her stomach turned on its head,
the secrets to the feelings between them
were only audible in the coziest of beds
the peeping tom has been baffled
by the mesmerised gazes of her trustworthy men
the unexpected loving family was,
in fact,
all hers to present in the end.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 5:36 AM UTC
Starless sky and crestfallen clouds
has been weeping for days.
Gale as bleak as a sad symphony
passing through every now and then.
As the rain echoes in her hueless
room, she lays still with no purpose.
Under the comforter, under dressed.
Coziest dreams, waiting to be dreamt.
Her cluttered mind slowly unraveling
as the wrathful sky kept on bellowing.
As each thoughts withdrew one by one,
She slowly felt like drifting away.
Tranquilizing rhythm of rain-
Natures lullaby.
Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 1:25 PM UTC
For you, my one and only,
I like you more and more,
the way your hand fits into mine,
and leads me to my classroom door.
For you, my one and only,
I'm falling more and more,
the coziest and tightest hugs,
I ever do adore.
For you, my one and only,
I love you more and more,
your tender, gentle kisses,
leave me wanting more.
(i.s.)
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
That calm feeling that washes over me
while the sound of rain lulls me to sleep
The charge of light
As I gaze at the moon
The coziest snuggle
Like three extra layers
The sweet bite of chocolate
On my most painful of days
The relaxing ease
Of no wrong choices
The freedom to be
Whoever I want to be
A strong and sturdy tree
When I need shade and protection
I often say I Love You,
More than words could ever say
This is my feeble attempt,
If you ever need to know,
What you are to me.
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 5:25 PM UTC