"frigidly" poems
You know it’s nothing but emptiness,
When you fail phrasing your feelings in words.
Other people might call it love rather than emptiness.
But let me tell you this:
Without emptiness,
We wouldn’t find warmth in love.
Some say love is frigidly cold,
Some say love is fondly warm.
Yet as seasons change from Summer to Winter,
Love will too.
And I’ve reached the point where I stopped seeking for love in people,
But in invisible objects that can keep me alive.
Can invisible objects really keep you alive?
Or will they leave you terrified?
Well, a definition for ‘Invisible Objects’ would be:
‘Emotions’.
And in the end,
Their purpose is to Not. Keep. You. Alive.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
Arctic Seasoned Disguise
Winter breathes in sepia tones along a lonely two lane street
divided amongst the sweeping frozen dunes
now forced into shouldered amnesty
Street lights shiver in snow capped bonnets
while sidewalks sleep ‘neath blankets of flittering flakes
The air, frigidly crisp…moves of tiny chiffon sparkles dancing
Rooftops, plump and soft, show off their frosted padding
as evergreens find alabaster fingers tickling their branches
in chilled teasings and frozen dustings
Footprints, once there are gone, covered and recovered again
all evidence of life is erased beneath pearl clouded skies
and faint outlines of distant thoughts
White on black stripes drape in glacial wanderings
spanning the slush of asphalt weavings
in straight line piercings across the wintry landscape
February reigns brutal, sub zero ponderings swirl
from high above the icebox wasteland, once brimming with color
now opaque in its arctic seasoned disguise…
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
The edge of the mattress
seats my brittle, crouched over body
Or maybe a corpse
rotted by the swirling troubles
that dizzy such a potential mind
into a useless blend of mess and worry
And the heart, left so empty
after the pathetically desperate offers it chanced for love
for a core to this depleting vessel
But now left more bare than the farthest of trenches
or the frigidly dry desert winds
More stale in my sleep than the powerless sands
whisked by its ruthless wrath
The slumbering visions
so personally horrifying
The void that infects my soul, so closely as exhausting
as when they end with my eyes' opening
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Marie Annette
Marie Annette
Sits quietly in the corner
Hands folded in her lap
Steadfast face, and eyes of glass
Her skin made of the finest china
Her hair is faux, and her lips are painted
And her dress is the softest silk
Marie Annette is sitting alone in the dark
Waiting for someone to pull her strings
It doesn’t matter who her master is
She will follow him blindly
Marie Annette lives up to her name
For like a puppet she moves ever so frigidly
Doing whatever dance her puppeteer asks of her
No matter what task he wants
If he says “jump” she doesn’t even ask
How high she needs to go
She merely thrusts herself right in the air,
Obedient Marie Annette
With just a flick of his finger
Marie Annette goes through fire and flood
And if her master commands her so
Marie Annette will spill some blood
Pull her strings, oh Master
Pull her strings tonight
Make your puppet dance
She loves you master, treat her right
Use her, but treat her tenderly
Control her, but be gentle
Take her away, but to a happy place
**** her, but love her too
Marie, Marie, Marie Annette
Tiny, petite, lovely young thing
Marionette, Marionette, Marionette
She’s all alone in this show
That is exactly how love is
Life is a marionette puppet show
Lovers are Marie and Master
Together Forever
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 4:21 PM UTC
i used to listen to you speak of icarus
your eyes would widen
with fascination and fire
as the myth reemerged in your memory
you spoke to me
with every syllable so delicately selected
and i would listen to you
awestruck by the way
you taught me your historic tales
you made time stop
while letting me experience
what felt like an eternity of bliss
in your sunlight
you crafted your word with your heart
and used your voice as it's vessel
and i would sit there dumbfounded
so pleasantly paralyzed
by the pure passion
behind every single breath
that you spoke to me softly
each and every last one
of those nights we shared
your sunlight never failed to shine
no matter how dark
the settings of your stories were
but i remember
the feeling in my gut that day
the day i truly understood your passion
for that one tale
i'd still beg to hear you tell to me once more
it was the day you told me
i flew too close to the sun for your comfort
but when i soared through our sky
i melted so effortlessly into your sunset
but you believed my wings
were too close to your flames
so as i basked in the rays of your sunlight
you to pushed me away from them
so that i'd fall and crash
into the ocean right below me
your attempts to cool off
the burns that never were
you were petrified i'd be scolded but now
i've been swallowed by a sea of sorrow
and the lonely stars of the night sky
so frigidly cold
without your hearts heat
to keep me warm
i know you wanted to save me
from bearing the fate of icarus
but the only thing that's burning
is the hate that i hold now
for this rendition and how
i feel i'm farther from the sun
than the day i first dreamt to reach it
Jun 8, 2021
Jun 8, 2021 at 11:11 PM UTC
Autumn breeze frigidly touches ailing dreadful lives
Harshly darkness quietly surrounds the broken souls
Mellow serenades that once played between hearts
Pathetically have transformed into bitter sad songs
Somewhere beyond the flossy clouds
Cupid has lost his romancing arrows
Plays sad sonorous tunes on his bow
Dedicated to all weepy lonely hearts
Howling chilly wind blows through the mist
Sounds of sorrow spread allover the place
Fuzzy humid air submerges the inner lust
Lives decay slowly as the autumn leaves fall...
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 12:29 AM UTC
I'll stay awake tonight
I'll make sure our memory
stays
alive
I'll wrap it up
hold it close
give it warmth
rock it back and forth
I won't let it grow cold
I won't let it's light die out
I
I will hold it in my heart
let it set me on fire
orange burns flaming blue
finality drops like a gavel
resounding
echo
ring
endsclashwithbeginnings
as sunrises and nights do
my stomach tips
tipsy containing all of you
my lips they
burn
from dragging you in
I smoke you
and
I
I choke on your
sickeningly
sweet
poison
you
fill
my lungs
deflate my kerosine heart
your love
burned me
up
my skyscrapers
down
coldly hollow
winded room
with blown out candle thoughts
lifeless eyes
c rac ked
window panes
the glass you
touched
was frigidly warm
with nocturnal sapphire gleams
my door sits ajar
but you knock continually
banging
my wooden paneled frames
splinter me through
rapture
my shores of endless sores
I
I am
I am begging
you
to light me on fire
set me ablaze once more
power hold of gripping electric lies
did it give you some
sick
twisted
satisfaction to break me
down
to shove my head
underwater
and force me to
drown?
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
I witnessed ******
The body inside
With inside frigidly
Probably tampered with
After the authorities left
The same lascivious lady
Was in the house for couple of seconds
Before I had entered
I had just run my errands
Knife lay on the floor
Gun lay far from the door
Policeman probably accompanied
The criminal along the way
Carry the along the weight
Disrupting the interiors
As the rug
Makes the crime bloodier
Blood
Of Red wine
Lay on the Floor
I managed to break
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
Cold to the touch
Nothing pumping through veins
A ghost with feet
Covered in humans clothes
Sunken eyes
Imaginary breath
A soulless existence
Frigidly numb
Holding a shriveled heart
Unable to see real life
She is a dead girl walking
I am a dead girl walking
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 5:41 PM UTC
Gift my Heart
Oh diminutive finch.
once you chortled
gleefully,
cutestuck
in my happy compliment sky.
Do I forgive your migration?
You flighty fuzzball!
vacating briskly, frigidly
the premeditated enclosure
perfectly designed for your every need.
your obdurate flight
left perfect circles of Hollow
(spaces eating my gaze,
like black holes
ravaging stars)
No,
I am too imbecilic.
You left breadcrumbs
trailing from the Candy House-
and I intend not to be eaten.
could not I come, however?
[you are a soft word of extra cream and when I think upon
you I cannot keep pretending
that I would have you stay anymore than I would
trade your laugh for any other flecked miracle]
Thus I am resolved.
I shall be your migration.
The knife of your eagle glimpse
shall perceive nothing
without my invisible acquiescence.
your talons
shall clutch with the strength of my
most bashful beam
Oh my reddest-tailed raptor!
as you hunt and fish
the wildernesses I mustn’t trample,
I will draft your flight,
But only,
my mellow heron,
If you promise to leave me a feather,
with which to heavy my heart.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 5:45 AM UTC
When the clouds web a raven moon
His thirsty eyes your eyes may meet
And unless your senses frigidly swoon
Can hear may I have tea and biscuit!
The hungry seeker is ever on roam
Carrying in winds his heavy sighs
With none to call his own and home
Except night’s stray passersby!
If you stop some moments with him
Can hear war stories and his bravery
In soldier’s pride his eyes still gleam
His eyes are wet when speaks of Annie!
He roams the night till the moon is veiled
His home is here this earth his heaven
Loving to chat with the souls strong willed
About Annie who he left at forty seven!
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
Did that really happen?
My forgetfulness is vivid.
She hid all black in satin
'til i tore it.
Fools jest,
Give in.
And there she sways,
And dare I say:
I think she's placed there all for me.
Some gruesome comedy.
Now
she's dressed in lace,
so
I don't bleed.
Nor do I need
this digit, ..see?
Let alone 10.
I have grown frigidly.
And even though it's knot-like,
I gaze back and don't regret
I stare and say "this is not life"
while I wake at near sunset.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
The constant processing of possibilities
Unleash gunfire across the mind's war front.
The hardened lives lost are buried deeply
In the dreams and terrors that keep us up.
Each night is a battle enticed by these walls
That are stained with the blood of all recollections.
The scars on your soul leave your heart enthralled,
Pleading for peace from despair's inception.
Letters written home get lost in the air,
And rain down in ashes; charred in the fight.
Frigidly cold: not the weather of there;
Here the sun sleeps when be not even night.
Shots heard afar, you lay your head on a stone:
The sky is made of glass and a star is your home.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
Disciplined with life’s goals, but lauding the journey the more important.
Goals, focused and carefully chosen: the way rigidly planned and marked: milestoned and measured.
Socially supported, to soothe wounded hands and lift weary feet; justified pleasures in righteous social schadenfreude, as goads to keep and help deviants in their Chosen Ways.
So much fear in the whims of the seductive winds: shunning strange shores, sallying strong and bold, with sendoffs and fanfare, into the wilderness, just beyond your garden’s walls.
We cannot see what we cannot see. As truths are inaccessible to reasons, so wisdom, unsearchable. And who knows if the unknowable fickle winds is for or against us.
When the wind blows, persistent, strong and consistent, even to the Moon is without doubt. Then the winds died.
Your boat absolutely still, your sail limp and lifeless; not a ripple from horizon to horizon, not a sympathetic cloud in the brazen blue sky. The food’s out, the water’s low, a day or two, at most.
Sun shines impartial with no fear nor favor, as blindfolded Justice dispensing justice. Nights, frigidly cold, and time ceased.
The journey will always be: goal or no goals, socially supported or as a lone nomad: the wind blows, always and irresistibly, never futile. Walking in fear and trembling the only wise, for all else, futility.
Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 1:36 AM UTC
life, all you hint at is quietly secret 'neath
killing roses(freshly
deep )
and miles
and miles
of summer.
Life
you seem
slightly
rude nice
smiling
while you
place between
ribs short
pretty metal
gleaming like rivers gleam hot in your folds
shimmering steeply run frigidly quivering
through miles and miles of suddenly hills
invented thrilling sinuous bones of earth
wreathed in snow: grow more beautiful murdering
)b;yWinter's song(
through miles
and
miles.
.
.
.
.
.
,
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 4:23 PM UTC
we are
lost
in a world we meant to build
bigger than ourselves.
we are
breathing
ink
but they wouldn't know,
that the ink we bleed
is so much darker than
our sins.
but in this world —
that is not quite round anymore —
we have seen peace in the eyes of
the dead, but i —
i am falling apart
too rigorously
to be defined in words.
we are
still
in the most literal sense.
almost synonymous with
stilted oceans. my heart is a
planet. and my heartbeat
is a jagged meteor
almost singeing
in its warmth.
i am only transiently whole enough so long as i
will myself to hold together
within the chains.
my hands are a
constellation
of your heart;
it is not quite as big as a planet,
but fairly so.
fifteen years
and you crash,
desperate and drenching in January rain
and as old as 1627.
but my world is not encapsulated
in 146 square feet of space.
i am tired
in my bones,
in my skin,
in my soul,
in this body
that seems too limiting.
i am so tired
that you would not
be able to recognize me
anymore,
i have become so different
but so have you.
there is a hard way of learning
how to stitch flesh without pain,
but i — i exist on the underside
of the ocean's surface.
it feels like my home.
and then the sky falls
into my home,
collapses like it had been standing
for far too long.
*
sway ever-so-slightly to the left
only then could you feel the sunlight,
pleasant in its glow of starbursts
littering the sky with scattering silhouettes
of shadows pressed flat,
and shoved mercilessly into the closets
of sleeping children; their hair made of
flakes,
their hands reaching out innocently
to touch my face.
a giggle on your left,
of the child who has managed to break
through your frigidly cold soul.
*
stay behind the fault line,
do not step toward me
if you don't want to drown.
i am a writer, you see,
endlessly delirious
in my never-ending dolor.
a state of pretenses,
where everything exists behind lies.
fall into the dead end instead,
i —
— i —
i am not meant to be whole, i swear i
— i never existed as a whole, never
once in my seventeen years.
and there is so much more than
falling in love,
in this world full of wonders
where you wouldn't know
about how i'm
far more real
than you can ever be.
simply because i know who i am
and you, friend,
you are trying to find your reflection
in someone else.
but haven't you learned
that you are different?
(that i am too?)
and that we belong
in the void?
that we are
meant
to be the void?
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:24 AM UTC
Alone in my mind, heart and soul.........
Your name echoes
Through the streets
Dark and desolate
This is my mind
Your beautiful face
Resonates through pain
In an obscure fantasy
This is my mind
Your smile delights
The bleakest stairways
Secluded in fear
This is my mind
Your touch silently
Roams unnoticed
In the frozen corridors
This is my mind
I am oppressively tired
I have walked miles
Empty chambers of darkness
This is my heart
I am frigidly alone
Emptiness has stripped me
I am naked and feeble
This is my heart
I am emotionally frail
Pathetically opaque
Judgement has died
This is my heart
I am morbidly desolate
Exhausted and depleted
All feelings destroyed
This is my soul
I am luridly forsaken
By pain ravishing inside
Leaving nothing but darkness
This is my soul
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 5:51 PM UTC
Dwindling through the air.
I am not convinced it's fair.
From whence comes this cold icy wind?
Ignorance; frigidly frozen.
In aftermath, my vision I'll rescind.
The glassy path I haven't chosen.
The past winter my friend.
In the avalanche I stand.
Buried alive in bone shattering cold.
My visage, your opinions unfold.
Why can't you see eye to eye.
Why is it that you presume I lie?
The frost frankly freezes friendship over.
When the thaw sets in - blooms the clover.
I am master of cold, but I bring only heat
My soul not sold, but you see what you need
There is nothing I can do, leader of men.
I conjure my cue, my mind is zen
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC
Turn the corner, the snow descends
A crowd has gathered, all dressed in white
Mourning you
Not one weeps, they know what you have done
They simple stand and stare at what could have been
The snow falls faster, the scene changes again
Now under an open sky, the moon so high and bright
All is quiet, no children of men
Here in this cold Summer, I remember,
Once warm and soft, now frigidly stiff
Memories of black and white, colour photographs of a forgotten Love
Faded beyond recognition, here, in this long hallowed night
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
hearts
as cold as sleet
beating frigidly
within a desolated cavity
a wasteland of remembrance
teetering on madness
echoes thoughts of insanity
where words
vitriolic at best
cuts deep
beneath the soul
a place
where beauty once lived
lay ugly and abandoned...
and as winter creeps
through cracks long forgotten
love
lies trampled in the madness
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
your identity of claim wasn't intentional -
it just was.
you were the wind behind the open door and
the fastened clip of the safety belt and
the doormat to wipe shoes on and
just hidden in the shadows.
the girl in the background.
the shadows were lonely.
dark.
frigidly cold.
(and safe.)
alone = isolation = solitude =
(no one to break your heart)
(no one's heart to break)
--
the girl in the background
started to fade away
between blackened flashes
(headaches and near-faint dizziness)
failing sanity
(misery)
and helplessness
(the sudden complete inability to smile)
to a more visible color
hovering at the stage left edge.
--
your friends found you.
walked with you the week you couldn't smile.
let you hide in shelters of too-long hugs
(until your heartbeat slowed
to match the steadier beat
and you started believing
in the idea of not being alone.)
held your newly-trembling hands steady.
gave you commiserating smiles and stories.
talked you down from the overwhelming terror.
dragged you bit by bit further away from the shadows.
--
the girl in the background disappears
around the time you start
saying back words like
"I love you"
to people who will undeniably leave you.
to people without the tie of blood-relation
because they have earned your trust
and someday is always too late.
--
the girl in the background
never had anyone
to rely on
--
you wake up to everything
three weeks starved of your lifelines of beating hearts
half a step away from the spotlight
the girl who doesn't quite stay silent (not anymore).
--
people expect you to say things, now.
expect you to be calm and speak.
(words tangle amidst languages,
get lost between
one synonym
and another
and another.)
you stay quiet, and you know the hurt you see
flash across
is not a product of your imagination.
(you miss it, a little. being the girl in the background.)
--
deadlines loom above your head,
T minus 5 months
After that: gone.
--
you'll miss them.
as things are progressing at the moment,
they'll miss you.
if you could do it, though,
fade back to black
(lonely distant shadows)
they might forget.
(forget you.)
it would hurt them less, in the long run.
--
(the girl in the background starts to make her comeback.)
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC