"fridgid" poems
The wick upends
wax, string,
flame
coating my arm and my sinuses are corrupted
am I in pain? Or am I just on fire?
ridiculous how everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) is on fire
flaming fake man, scarecrow
out of house, out of mind
Colder than moon rays or hatred or soft
refrigerator hands
colder than the liquid I pour on my face to wake me up for the world
colder than hungry
colder than resting on my porch alone
singing: "ooooooooooo"
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 10:10 AM UTC
i am walking across thin ice
waiting to hear that final
crack
that lets me know
i am about to plunge
deep
into the fridgid water
and i know i wouldn't even fight
to come back up
because once i go down
i cant come back up.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
I climbed the rotted staircase
into the blackest part
of my brain
where a fridgid silent room
awaits a tenant
patient, and strong
enough to live with
it’s secrets
it's burdens
heavy as the
Earth.
.
I gave you the key
and my faith
” It’s going to be tough.”
” I can handle it.”
You were so sure.
But I knew I would
destroy you
in the end.
.
I wondered about you
up there,
alone with my
raw, unpolished thoughts.
Sometimes I cried,
knowing that I was hurting you.
All my painful words
and horrors
came to live with you
in the dark room.
.
I can feel your screams.
They reverberate through
my body
to this day.
.
Grief swallowed me,
and shoved me up the stairs
where blood spilled over
the steps
and pooled at my feet,
icy, and thick as tar.
” Go see,”
” Go see what you have done.”
Grief whispered.
.
I already knew.
You said you could fix me
repair my mangled
memories.
I didn't believe you.
In the dark room
I saw you sit on the
window sill,
while my demons played
at your feet.
You reasoned with
the glass.
.
I saw you open the latch.
I saw you let go.
you fell.
Ifel alongside you.
Deeper into my
warped little mind
where I buried myself in
guilt.
.
It was my undoing
that left you
to rot
in my
darkness.
.
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
Nurturing & warm
caressing your skin,
I said not a jinn,
or concerned about Sin,
********** your heart,
just let me in,
as lips press your neck,
calming down spirits,
comforting in fridgid nights
baby feels so,
... very right,
elder, yarrow & peppermint
aromatic & pleasantly sharp,
like a sweet sounding harp,
I put a spell,
there in the smell,
emmmm,
so appetizing..
slightly sweet,
& spicy, nice,
surprising treat,
hot lips are ready,
for you purse
my Gypsy love,
for you,
I'm lifting curse,
& healing remedies
massaging shoulders
heated flesh
don't worry everything's
going to be alright, tonight,
I seem to say
& stay, breathless...
find my sun has gone away,
as I await your arrival
or an invitation on some other day,
until then,
I steep a cup,
preparing again,
for the cold.
Cherie Nolan© 2016
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
It's feeling cold
& kind of bold,
that fridgid air
North winds blow again,
such a chilling bone
the cloak's we wear
we think we hideout
from our addiction
and our affliction
can't buy it back
keep a course
or stay on track
I got conviction
& stirring diction
this isn't fiction,
& fortunately,
a good depiction
of how a heart works
but no matter what I say
no matter when I stop to pray
on any single given day
it comes,
I feel it there,
I do, I swear,
probably gonna sound all wrong
maybe it won't last too long
but she won't touch you like I do
or touch you like I could
or love you like you know I would
do I just keep inviting,
rehearsing, reciting,
& just keep on writing
it could be so exciting,
you're in my mind
& if the stars aligned
I think we'd find
two star crossed lovers
who hide beneath covers,
as lips meet
& love tasting sweet,
so delicious & nutritious
you kiss me once
as lightning strikes,
a fever spikes,
out of control
or an asteroid falls,
a nuclear explosion,
a heavenly angel,
he comes & he lands,
into my eager and long waiting hands,
slip past the gaurd & easily spilt sand,
& into my arms,
& safe from all harm,
we,
could find,
a 1 in a billion chance 2 love
&
a 1 in a TRILLION
kind of love. ❤
Cherie Nolan
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
it was still pitch black when she slid out from under the princess and pea
sized stack of her mother's quilts
her feet slapped the chilly
wooden floorboards
of her grandmother's screened sleeping porch
as she scurried into the main house
made her way into the kitchen
snatched several day old biscuits
stashed them in the pockets of her flowered flannel robe
silently, assuredly she swept a mason jar from the pantry shelf
carefully crept to the icebox
poured herself a fridgid, frothy jar of cow juice
slid silently
out the side door into the crisp predawn air
of the country morning
on winged feet
made her way to her favorite meadow
plopped unpretenciously under the
welcoming branches of grandfather oak
snuggled into the ruff bark of his trunk
a bite of biscuit
a sip of cold cow juice
a smile
what better way to begin a day
than welcoming
the bird's songs?
patiently she waited
the sun began to rise
the field flowers turned their faces toward the light
as her feathered friends songs began
smiling, self satisfied she said outloud, to no one in particular,
it is good to greet the day
it is better to catch the first worm
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 10:58 AM UTC
Tell me a story,
tell me everything about your days,
the ones that had you laughing into the
never ending, hazy sunsets,
the nights that tore your soul to pieces,
only to leave you void and alone in the
decaying moonlight.
Tell me, please. I would love to just know,
every single idiosyncrasy that
defined your being.
Whisper it shyly if you must,
into the fridgid Winter air that
bites briskly at my cheeks,
in the hollowness that reverberates off
of this desolate city’s streets,
while everyone tucks in early.
Speak slowly, please,
through the melting ice, dripping
onto the pavement while you
help awaken Spring.
Sing a simple song through the
birds rediscovering life,
mutter a word in the commotion
of a typical weekday commute,
plant the seeds of memories,
to bloom in Summer heat
and unnoticeably appear to me.
Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 7:04 PM UTC
Fridgid air
Aches my bones
Slow exhales
Imitates clouds of a smoker
Dusted frost
And rosey cheeks
Remind me
Of our winter fling
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
My parents still ask about you
And I roll my eyes
And pretend I never think about you
but every time it rains
you reappear in my mind
It brings me back to the day you left
When the clouds cried along
And the sky turned pale as my skin
On the fridgid June day
I don't know how to feel
angry or sad
and I'm still as confused as I was back then
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC