"iciness" poems
He has brutalised your beauty
And made you fragile.
Tears tremble on cobalt lashes
Bruised, bewildered
Goddess fallen,
Breaking as you fell.
You sought and brought happiness, warmth and abundance,
But lived, it seemed, a life of anything but.
Now facing a vindictive rage
You must remain stoic.
Your mythical namesake
Found no comfort or pleasure in retaliation, or revenge.
He is incapable of love
And will never back down.
You will need to find the strength to match
His angry bile with wile and guile
His iciness with fire,
Remorseful honesty shows him
A cold, and bitter liar.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
I like the way your last night skin
Burns the iciness,
When the first reddish ray of sun
Penetrates each pore of your bare back.
And every time I touch
The mocha colour of your skin,
Fragrance of caffeine
Seeps in through my nerves
To make me intoxicated.
Now, there is no doubt left, that
My morning is going be good.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC
TW: suicide / cancer / brutal imagery
july isn't a good month for me
it is a collection of all the things
i have had taken away. it is a
bitter winter chill through a
summer i do not get to enjoy.
july is lonely.
it breaks apart all the other months
like a pack of werewolves; it is
their alpha and i have six months
before everyday is a full moon
and my legs are tired of running
from it. i have six months to
enjoy the fresh scent of crisp air,
to feel the iciness of snow without
shivering through my skin. i try
to break out of this body, try to
knit myself a new one out of
preloved sweaters hoping their
stories will become my own so that
i may have a july worth talking about.
suicide happens all year round but
your suicide happened in july and
has happened every month in my
mind since. i have lost count of the
way i try to contact you to say
i'm sorry.
maybe my spiritual journey wasn't
my own; i convince myself the
universe will show me your face again
one day and i hope it is not in july.
people suffer from cancer throughout
everyday of the year but you suffered
in july. i watched the sunset through
hospital windows, smelt more chemicals
than fresh flowers, held back more
tears than my throat knew how to
swallow. has anyone ever drowned
without being submerged in water?
i have.
i imagined cracking my skull off the
glass confining you to this ward, to
this smell of microwave meals and
this buzzing of machines echoing
like an emergency and my heart is
on standby, i imagined it would give
the ward some colour because i am
so sick of seeing white.
and this july
this july,
i hold your hand as your treatment
continues. i do not feel the sun on
my face because you cannot feel it
on yours. i watch the sunset through
windows. carry the bodybag of my
soul around in "i'm fine" and "i'm okay."
i don't think my voice could drip
with any more sadness as i envision the
words cascading down glass panels
hoping if i spell it out for the world
to see, someone will stop and ask me
why i hate july, or at least,
if i'm okay.
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
denuded of cover
she stands all alone
without a leaf
upon her timbered bones
above in sombre grey skies
an uncaring sun hides
winter's whipping wind
lashes her hide
there she shivers
for want of warm light
there she quivers
through the gelid days and nights
the bitter iciness
ever staying
with the freezing vetch
so cruelly parlaying
the end doth call
she dies
she dies
she dies
in winter's cold pall
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
I only caught a passing moment of their conversation, but the dyed redhead, bowed black face hidden behind her tresses, clearly remarked, I'm part Irish. That's white. while the boy beside her captured her every movement with sarcastic circular motions of his imaginary camera, and something in the taste of the air took me back to the iciness of the cell.
Long after the guard clanged the iron door shut, letting the reverberations fade into the silence of small spaces so evident in the 10x6 enclosed room, I heard her. In truth, recollection deceives me in associating my first awareness of her with an impossible remembrance: a womanly scent flowing on a non-existent gust between her cell and mine. But no, it was definitely the distinct, distant quality in her voice as she softly called Who's there? that caused me to press my ear tightly against cold iron in eager anticipation. Hello was all I mustered. She responded in relieved tones with tales of abuse, pimps and prostitution, all mixed with crack bumps measured in metricities that would have made her high school math teacher proud. For hours her voice echoed through the halls of the jail, pausing only for an occasional guttural response Uh-huh or, Uh-uh before continuing her tragic, comforting tale.
Eventually day broke and I left the cell-- left the girl locked away, nameless, out of sight. And, I would have forgotten. I would have never searched every face wondering: if I close my eyes and listen, would the voice that still echoes in my head present itself in a stranger's features?
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 8:38 PM UTC
The embrace of the warm water was welcome on the iciness of my flesh. My skin, pale and uninteresting, reflected what I felt inside: cold, bitter, and lacking life. I can't recall the length of time I spent sitting in the porcelain tub, its overwhelming and vast whiteness enveloping me. All I could hear was the metallic ring of the shower head pumping water onto my pathetic, limp body and the rattling of too many thoughts inside of my head. The only other thing I could manage to do was rinse the conditioner from my not-quite-long yet not-quite-short blonde hair, scrub my face and climb into the familiarity of my bed, towels and all.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
*Among the giant pale mountains of the north,
Lies a small shelter not too far of heavens core,
As a glittering star upon the valleys that worth,
The iciness of the wandering wind sailing north,
Thriving the ghastly stillness with a stern roar,
There, under an old decaying oak tree,
He often dreamt wondering lost and sore,
Pleading and entreating murk ravens that bore,
This silent cry of his urges that implore;
**"God, mighty God, to thou and only thee,
I beg thy mercy, I beg thou to let me see,
Her Seraphim countenance that I adore,
Which I have seen once and nevermore,
As she came like a leaf during a windy fall,
Leaping and dancing with bare nimble feet,
As tender as a spring wave she yielded a call,
To my vacant heart to love a love so sweet,
Conquering my psyche with a mere smile,
So gentle, as a warm Dutch summer heat,
Her peculiar eyes mischievously took my all,
Making my heart intensively vivaciously beat,
Lord! Bring us together once and for all,
As the first seed of love and life, Adam and Eve."**
While the mountains murmured the echo of this call,
His days became dull of melancholy and grief,
Like a saint praying for a sinful deed,
A sinful love of wicked desires and deceit.*
© copy right protected
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
Remember me.
When your eyes are caught in the moment
by the fire of your own lashes,
the iciness of your breath and swallowing
your fears, facing your thoughts, surfing
through the city, flipping
notes and papers
off the skyscrapers
binders half-sunk into the concrete
I will rip your soul from those closed eyes if I ever
have a say in the colors of tomorrow
I will feed you grass
I can't be passive, I'll whisper
into your insecurities and try to make contact
with something
Tomorrow there'll be fireworks, lighting the
night, helping us forget
Something repulsive glittered into
the blackness like fireflies glinting off oil
We're all sharpening the edges
of the double-edged sword that plunges
straight through our bellies,
drips red off the back end
We're living off
the momentum
We spin off each other daily
laughs distorting around the
corners,
around the next bend there will be daisies
there will be daisies
there will
be
at least one of us
I can't stand the silence,
so I dance it,
I wanted to pull you in but you were too busy making fire.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
Taking long drives,
Through these country roads,
Catching butterflies,
And memories along the way,
Taking advantage,
Of the nicest of days
Dipping our feet in the sea,
Of sheer iciness,
Instantly feeling like needles,
Prickling our toes,
But we keep running as far as we can,
Holding hands,
as we go.
Eating a lemon top,
In freezing cold weather,
Not a single care,
When we're together,
Villages, pubs,
And countryside,
Our two hearts,
Will be full inside.
Even as summer passes through,
We always go back,
To that cosy shelter,
Whilst you're wearing 3 layers,
And my best sweater.
Birthday on the London eye,
Trying to count the bowler hats,
From up in the sky,
And seeing how many bulldogs,
Walk closely by.
Queuing for hours on end,
But filling in that empty void,
We call conversation,
Psychotic bond,
No hesitation.
I remember at the royal wedding,
As they passed by,
New princess with her dress sparkling,
I whispered in your ear,
You look much more beautiful, my darling.
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 6:32 PM UTC
She'll receive a reception of disdain
In a month her freezing winds shall arrive
The thermometer taking a big dive
We'll be captive to her very cold refrain
Winter's unwelcome vetch o'er our land mass
The countryside touched by her iciness
For she is a very bitter gelid lass
We'll stay inside to shelter from her lash
No warming sunlight rays within our sight
Many hours of her severe frigid morass
Everything yokes in a nasty sash
The season of winter shall not delight
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
It's quieter now.
Rioters are long gone.
For reasons beyond me.
Their anarchic war
Was replace with arctic winds
From far north.
Iciness blows through me
Unthawing the rawness.
Forlorn frozen feelings.
Slowly spreading, soon
I am a hollow iceberg
The world still moves on
Through the bright fire
And I watch from my frigid state.
Sometimes, flames will flicker towards me,
Sometimes, they lick my ice.
Temporary mealting occur.
The memory of water proves too
Tempting for ice to ignore.
But this chilled bliss is fleeting.
Memory turned sour and only to freeze up again
And forget about fire so ice retires from contact.
All I can do is watch on.
Coldness remains in the heart and brain.
As the warmth of health carries on around me.
It is time like this,
That I wait for this age to pass.
For climate change to do what it does best
However weather has always been unpredictable,
And even lava couldn't thaw me free.
Instead I will wait for the return of the rioters.
and prepare to greet them all
and All the choas they bring.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
They are cruel because 'you can take it';
In their eyes, beauty is strength.
When they go home and tell mocking tales of your conquests,
They hate that they will not wake up, this morning or next, with your face.
They are spiteful because you have all the power to be.
Although you might choose to be kind, let loyalty live.
In truth, they see in you what a child sees
Under the bed, in the wardrobe, in the eyes of a dentist.
Try telling them that, inside, you have none of your outer glittering iciness,
And they will only try to find where the venom hides,
Crunch underfoot the pearls of honesty,
And padlock your perfect cage a little harder than necessary.
But you can not let it hurt.
That would upset the balance of things.
If you show your humanity, they will show to be lacking in theirs
And the world would be turned upside down.
And for all their moaning, becoming the victim of their destruction would be your worst crime of all.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
Maybe only slowly, can someone
come nearer, and closer, in thought,
where he might be a sliver
of painted visions on a glass
ceiling. Somehow, as thinking fades
and the colours take precedence. Blue
purple hues, taking place on the
pink of a lovely sight or thought. He felt he
needed to trample what I have come
to, shatter this illusion of a
benevolence. He cracked my gauges,
took the defenses right away. As my
last stroke failed, a broken lance of the
first. Silently he cuffed away his iciness, pursuing me
with a granite effortlessness. Then the impermeable
onyx kissed my mouth and went away.
© 2006
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC
Relief from an agonizing week,
Power, Noise, Steel,
Life charges into me.
American steel drifts,
Paint glistens in the sun,
Surge past searching.
Observe all things little,
Small wood and canvas,
Punch through hues changing.
Salt air kiss,
Mature wind power,
Beacon of truth small.
White flash ferocious,
Monstrous roar deathly,
I sit, comatose.
Coldness creeping, Me
Desperately wanting truth,
Break of destruction, beckoning.
American steel, sailboat, iciness,
Mesh together all truth,
Receding shadows.
Candle in the horizon,
Symbol of accomplishment,
Toward I sail.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 9:38 PM UTC
I once knew a girl with a hole in her heart
She was pretty and youthful, **** and smart
And when the offers of love came
They whistled straight through
Clear through the middle
No chance love could start
She often took lovers, beguiled and entrapped
No chance to get close, their time there was capped
Lust turns to love
But just for one party
Next man approaching
A sad lover lapped
Late twenties, proposals, they came thick and fast
She laughed in the face of each one that asked
Unable to give more
Than a month or two
Though sometimes regretting
The role that was cast
Then one day, unexpected, a true love appeared
She knew it was different the moment he neared
With her iciness melted
The hole slowly filled
Now able to love
Unsure why she had feared
She gave all she had, her emotions awoken
Not expecting he'd go, the reasons unspoken
The pain when he left
Was too much to bear
A heart was made whole
Only then to be broken
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
The cold gray swept across the sky
Sad winds
Encircled my heart
No warmth of love to defend me
Iciness forced my soul into the dark
The emotion of desolate loneliness
We suffered together in silence
As the gray moved through me slowly
Ever so carefully and quiet
Sweet thick fog that envelopes me
A reclusive world of frozen screams
It is my sympathetic companion
Who lives in my nightmares
My dreams
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
Your hand brushes upon my skin
The iciness of your touch sent shivers down my spine
Are you unaware of the sin
Slightly pushing over the line
Your hand gently caresses my side
My skin becoming inflamed
Wanting that moment to die
Are you not ashamed
Was our friendship a lie
I lay there motionless
In fear if I move my lips of what may leak
Do you not see you that you make me defenseless
Inside I am screaming
I'm hoping that you would go away
Thinking if I could just wake up from this dream
Everything would be back to its normal way
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
Umbra were my acquaintance.
Rehabilitating was never been on my plan.
Daftness was there to give me a chance,
Iciness was the best attitude that I’ve done.
Elysian was ready to hug me, yet;
Lucifer got one of my feet.
Acting that I never been felt any sick,
Catching my breath, I’m waiting for someone to save me by their trick.
Aching heart has been pushing and calling me,
Beckon me to end everything in order to be free.
Aspiring to turn myself as a beautiful literary piece in deep blue sea,
Notifying that I’ll never see how badly was reality.
In the end I’m all alone,
Listening when will I ever fall and be thrown.
Lachrymose face is my perfect pattern,
And no one seems to bother how they left my heart broken.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
The iciness of his words
couldn't have hurt more
had he taken the icicle from
the overhang of my roof
and stabbed me
clean through to
this heart of mine.
Rigid and unforgiving
his breath spewed from his tongued mouth
forcing me to step back and wince
for so often the stench he breathes
brings harm to my soul
and wrecks havoc on the pieces of me
that once were whole.
'Tis only a memory now--
but still,
late at night
it comes back,
haunting me
taunting my senses
making me feel
as though
I should flee--
but where to go?
who to turn to now?
he's locked away--
but still...
those words, his evil
has a grip on me
somehow...
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 1:10 AM UTC
denuded of cover
she stands all alone
without a leaf
upon her timbered bones
above in sombre grey skies
an uncaring sun hides
winter's whipping wind
lashes her hide
there she shivers
for want of warm light
there she quivers
through the gelid days and nights
the bitters iciness ever staying
with its freezing vetch
so cruelly parlaying
the end doth call
she dies
she dies
she dies
in winter's cold pall
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 6:32 AM UTC
to my imaginary lover,
I wish you were here,
cuddling me,
together cozily in the warm
blankets,
with my hands in your
pockets,
so you can chase away
the iciness from my fingers.
but there's no way
that could happen, hmm?
you're just imaginary,
after all.
a figment of my
imagination.
Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 7:51 AM UTC
You are allowed to guffaw at me, considering what came before this.
(sonnet #MMMMMMDCCCLXXXI)
Snow. Likeas if what, eh? mists' fragile veil
Haunts gathring darkness as white caps from hence
That thought of April in the wings, suspense
Put back to sleep with frozen kisses' scale
Of niceness was't? Rain's tripping through t'avail
Culled naked lawns in yellowed Death, which thence
Are tucked 'neath that chill coverlid, and whence
Straps on its boots 'gainst crunching forth, hope pale?
Nah. It is Janry still, and violets' tour
Shall not be guaranteed until the dew
Once more rests silver on green carpets fer
Soft light and warmer hours lost under blue
Skies nary iciness skulks in as twere.
Tonight we'll shiver, glad the furnace knew.
14Jan18c
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
I wish for the wonder in your eyes to manifest into something greater than you may realize. I feel cold, as if my heart is freezing and that iciness is slowly consuming my whole being. Sometimes i feel so small, a microscope would have trouble finding anything, except my fears. I have been feeling less than inspired to write to you as of late, but I still feel like I need to. Last night I ****** someone else; I just thought you should know. Gosh I loved you- And it’s been a while since your lips touched mine and i miss you. I loved you, and i know i keep saying that, and please trust me when i say this, I am not trying to get you back, it’s just I learned that if someone isn’t smart enough to want to be loved they don’t deserve it, and now you don’t have me anymore. I’m still in the process of burning those wretched bridges; still healing. sometimes I just want to talk to you, because I know you’re just there, like you said you were. Tonight I choose to write to you because I miss you and I’ve forgotten what it felt like to want to tear myself open myself for you and show you my broken world. I wish I still know how it feels to want to look at you and your beautiful hands. I wish I still know how it feels to want to see you again, how it feels to talk to you and hear your voice over the line because I liked it. I didn’t care less about your baggage or whatever you had, I just wanted all of you. Broken heart and all. Even if it was wrong. Because I felt like it was beautiful. You were beautiful.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
I stepped into the shower after taking the agonizing minutes to remove my baggy clothes, knit with my self-esteem, from my cryptic body.
I shivered as the ice caps of my swollen heart flexed.
As the water danced about my body, I felt you.
If I opened my mind, squinted my eyes, and cocked my head forty-five degrees to the right
I could convince myself it really was you.
The water trickled over the places you’d tickle your fingers.
Rained on my face where you used to spontaneously plant your kisses.
I clenched my eyes tight- I can’t bear to lose this moment.
My corpse of a heart was ignited by the heat of the water
and the thought of you.
I breathed in your memory and it flooded my cerebral cortex.
Sensory overdrive.
Soon, my shower ended and I begrudgingly stepped onto the linoleum floor.
When I dare steal a glance at my somber reflection, I felt the iciness coming back.
My heart hardened.
You taught me how to love myself.
Now look at me.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
You run up and jump in
The cold water invites you in and swallows you whole
The shock of the iciness takes your breath away
Your weight drags you farther and farther into its depths
Panic and fear hits you as your lungs cry for relief
You try fighting your way to the top
The moment you reach the surface you take in a huge breath of fresh air
You drink it down, because for a moment you thought you never would again
And perhaps that's what you wanted for a moment or two
But the wanting of fresh air out weighed the darkness.
This time.
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC