Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"frozenness" poems
As the wet wind hums its way through our two tower six-cylinder apartment complex. Birds fall from their naked winter wept branches, braced by stiff bones, mapped out in Alexandria, carrying notes from El Salvador. The corner market is closed, never opened. A hair salon stands in its place, it wrings out the "R's" from a Philadelphia warshing. And like every night, hot air cakes on an extra layer of indecipherable red dots up the arms and around the neck, minute pustules of hypochondria that steal my finger tips from the keyboard. I scratch and tip them, looking under their fiery scarlet caps for, I-don't-know-what disease. Paul says It's that magic school bus melanoma, typhoid drip, it comes at you from a computer screen and eats at your nervous system until you've got the wambles. Tuesday's used to be the worst, until I OWNED THAT **** I make a pronoun out of aluminum foil and wear it as a hat on a first date. Tinder is not bad for conceptual art projects. I carry it within me like an anodyne complex, out into the frozenness; into my mouth the air comes around my teeth, behind my uvula until winter freezes my voice and I am breathless. I abandon my miniature house to enter the pyramidal pinetum to the North. Wild paradise shrubs gather with songless animal noises watching as I take naked photographs of my father to preserve his body from anything less than his great immortal end. He lives on black moss and water from a nearby pond, he authors the face of Anthony Hopkins, thrown about, another casualty of fervid and blurry dreaming.
0
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Hologram Father
As the wet wind hums its way through our two tower six-cylinder apartment complex. Birds fall from their naked winter wept branches, braced by stiff bones, mapped out in Alexandria, carrying notes from El Salvador. The corner market is closed, never opened. A hair salon stands in its place, it wrings out the "R's" from a Philadelphia warshing. And like every night, hot air cakes on an extra layer of indecipherable red dots up the arms and around the neck, minute pustules of hypochondria that steal my finger tips from the keyboard. I scratch and tip them, looking under their fiery scarlet caps for, I-don't-know-what disease. Paul says It's that magic school bus melanoma, typhoid drip, it comes at you from a computer screen and eats at your nervous system until you've got the wambles. Tuesday's used to be the worst, until I OWNED THAT **** I make a pronoun out of aluminum foil and wear it as a hat on a first date. Tinder is not bad for conceptual art projects. I carry it within me like an anodyne complex, out into the frozenness; into my mouth the air comes around my teeth, behind my uvula until winter freezes my voice and I am breathless. I abandon my miniature house to enter the pyramidal pinetum to the North. Wild paradise shrubs gather with songless animal noises watching as I take naked photographs of my father to preserve his body from anything less than his great immortal end. He lives on black moss and water from a nearby pond, he authors the face of Anthony Hopkins, thrown about, another casualty of fervid and blurry dreaming.
Continue reading...
5
Like a ******* nagging Ache Embedded deep in My neck Just like the one I wake up to Every night And Morning I just can't Sleep Without that feeling Greeting me Every Single ******* Morning They call it Generalized Anxiety Disorder In other words My nerves are worked up All the time For no reason Just In general Always Neverending Undying I don't believe in meds I feel like they'd only **** me up Worse than I feel Most of the time So I trudge through These muddied Hallowed waters And thick jungles Of fire Accompanied by intermittent bursts Of skin-burning frozenness Nothing is good Nothing is right If only my brain decided To be this unstoppable In all the other areas of my life Maybe things would be a little Better But they're not And I work every day to make it so My life might be a little easier The next morning The next night The next go around But I don't know I never know This **** takes hold of me And throws me down that pit Leaves me there with no food No water No love It sits there Smile, taps its foot And waits for me To die
0
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
"Generalized" Anxiety Disorder
I searched up the hashtag “winter” and all I found was misery and cold. Why? There is a certain beauty in winter. Like the cold-snap frozenness and the way your skin shivers but your blood is warm. Like the feeling of being on the edge of something very, very large, and very, very old. Like a mountain. I hope you appreciate it. There need not be misery nor cold. There’s a certain special beauty in winter. Say it aloud. There’s a certain special beauty in winter.
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
The Beauty in Winter
An avalanche of pain. Sudden. Heavy. Suffocating in the frozenness. Icicles fall from your mouth, Straight from the ice of your heart. I'm slipping on the ice, Close to falling through the cracks. Don't get me wrong, The summer sun shines through your eyes. Or at least it used to. Now I'm just waiting for spring.
0
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC
Wait For Spring
I am looking at the snow outside through a thin sill blind and still few things whiter as from the rays of daylight but rather I prefer the night on the frozenness. warmth is bringing those grass oases and they are much like cloudholes through dayblue sky. but still it is cold and I am thinking in a summer way of grass cutting and flat air through which dovesongs may or may not travel
0
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 8:24 PM UTC
newing
(Spring) So it was growing affection (Summer) So there was an interlude (Autumn) So with trees she fell (Winter) So he caused her frostbites for keeps from his frost-filled heart holes from a frost-bitten body just the same (Spring) So there was growing up and there was moving on (Summer) So there was another interlude and absence of affection (Autumn) So she noticed him again and back was the unwanted phase (Winter) So he stayed the same as ever and remained never sorry for her frozenness
0
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
s e a s o n s
After so many months of loneliness Dark Despairing Frozenness Im learning to live again Love again Laugh again
0
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
Untitled