"snowballs" poems
It was December 27th,
Nineteen and fifty one
The day the Christmas snowball war
Had officially begun
It started in the schoolyard
It was supposed to just be fun
But, by the time the whole thing ended
No one knew just who had won
The grade five class were ready
All lying there in wait
As the kids from home form seven
Approached the schoolyard gate
With a yell the whole thing started
They were served up on a plate
the kids from home form seven
would not forget this date
The air filled with projectiles
Launched from wet gloves by the score
As the victims ran for cover
They were hit by four score more
They were bruised and hurt and battered
As they ran for the school door
Now, the kids from the grade five class
Lay waiting there for more
Two teachers came to stop them
Get them back into the school
but, the kids just launched more snowballs
Using scarves now as a tool
They would catapult their snowballs
which was really, really cool
And the teachers ran for cover
In the safety of the school
They'd built a wall near four feet high
To protect them on both sides
It channeled all who entered
The walls acted as guides
At most their little walkway
Was only eight feet wide
and their victims ran for cover
For the school, a place to hide
It was dark when the attack happened
The form seven kids came back
They'd left the school from the front door
And had now planned their attack
Their first snowball hit it's target
With a loud resounding crack
It was clear that old form seven
Was truly fighting back
The teachers had a huddle
Met inside and chose to fight
They would wait until the battle
Had gone on into night
They would sneak out of the building
With the absence of the light
And attack the grade five children
And show them how to fight
The air was full of snowballs
Bodies, gloves, scarves abound
there were children hitting adults
And there were children on the ground
They'd been at it for six hours
When they heard the alarm bell sound
It was time to get inside for bed
Before the prefects came around
The snowball fight at Wellesley
Public School in fifty one
Is the one that they remember
Out of all of those they've done
In all one hundred people
Were involved in all the fun
For next year they are building
A snowball launching gun!!!
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 4:07 PM UTC
*Snowflakes of joy falling from the sky,
Snowflakes of joy falling from the clouds way up high,
Hear the children's laughter echoing in the dale;
And the sky is wearing it's lacy veil.
Snowballs flying through the sky,
Singing birds through the air fly,
Snowflakes of joy dancing on the street;
Waltzing to the sound of pattering feet.
Snowflakes of gladness dancing on my window,
Watch the happy children playing in the snow,
Snowballs flying through the sky;
And the clouds smile down from their home on high.
Snowflakes of joy silently falling down,
Dancing and waltzing on the snow-covered ground,
Snowflakes of peace falling from the sky;
Singing birds in the air doth fly.*
~Marian~
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
I imagine if I were a little boy, I'd get a little boy hard on by watching teenage girls buy underwear.
And if I were a little boy, I'd punch my brother so hard he'd start to cry
And I'd die laughing at him,
take back my nerf gun, just for fun in the sun
and I don't get burned
because I haven't had a girlfriend yet.
I think little boys ********** the wrong way for a while
but still smile
because they're ************
Still keeping it secret from mom,
nothing's really wrong, it's the bomb,
but turn up this song
It'd be weird if mom heard all the pokemon names I keep saying to stay hard.
If I were a little boy, I'd be mean to the little girls I like.
Push them off their bikes and get into fist fights
with other boys over toys that aren't even mine.
And I'd keep all my promises by the pinky,
and if we got married under the oak tree
in my backyard, I'd keep you forever
and we could watch goosebumps every night together.
The little boy version of me doesn't get heartbroken
and isn't smokin' anything.
He doesn't get wasted and tasteless,
grab ***** and faces,
screaming about cheating and beating up some guy just to prove he's alive.
His shoes light up
not the headlights of the car that peels out of the bar
angry
not thinking straight, into the house, irate,
to deliver hate, and take out any sons ready to stand up to him.
He doesn't sell drugs,
he gives hugs at thanksgiving
and isn't too strung out to watch an entire disney movie
and would never be caught dead on the streets
shakin' a can for money because his habit's are debilitating and killing him.
He sleeps with one girl, her name is Daisy.
She's a lazy cocker spaniel
and loves him more than you ever will.
He likes cartoons and afternoons playing tag in all front yards
throwing snowballs at cars, going to mars on a swingset
because he's not grown up yet,
and the world hasn't told him what it really thinks about him.
I don't buy underwear in front of little boys.
And it's nothing against them or their little boy friends,
I just don't want me to be another key in the inevitable end
when they try to get into girls *******
instead of heads.
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 3:09 PM UTC
Life doesn't always hand you lemons
like snowballs they can be thrown at your legs
Down on your knees you'll go,
because lemons are much harder than snowballs you know.
Crippling you for however long,
this harsh act forces you to crawl.
Don't expect a wheelchair, there wont be one for you.
We all crawled at one point or another
a past lesson; a past stepping stone on how to walk
if you can remember,which I doubt you can
crawling was much easier then.
Back then you weren't use to standing on your feet.
But for whatever reason life decided to chunk a lemon your way
knock you down in the middle of the road,
then run off like some silly little girl, all the while laughing of course
Life chose you.
You with your habit of bad luck and terrible morning breath...
Keep your head up when you start crawl, if not you'll miss the ladder.
As one of life's wonderful attempts to keep you down
just keep going, keep moving forward and when you see that ladder...
don't climb it.
Use it to stand back up
then hunt down a brand new lemon squeezer,
cause I can guarantee life 'misplaced' your last one...
on purpose of course.
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 6:49 PM UTC
Since it never snows here
let's put down
these imaginary snowballs
of defense,
my love.
Yes, already the icicles
are melting
from your long hair
and I'm thirsty enough
for you
to drink the woman-flavored
broth
that puddles at your feet,
as soon as my own iced blood
begins to pour long
and again,
like a hundred pound sack
of salt
pouring through one pinhole
of flesh
into your savory broth.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
I can’t count the amount of times you’ve saved me
since first class and up to seventh’
where I was lost in life
you guided my way
so meaningful
after that
when I made my hardest choices
which shaped me
you were right beside
in some cases
you were the first one I turned to
thoughts I haven’t even dared to think about by myself
with you
they became sentences
with reason
sometimes
you were the hardest one to talk to
admitting to you
meant reality
and finally letting go
green summer grass
wandering around
all options are open
that’s how it feels with you
when I broke down
winter snow
pointless
sitting in your bed
took away the feeling of
meaningless
I don’t know how
but
soft warm pillows
comforting and isolating
it felt just like that
the world gained brightness
and color
once more
now I can see your sorrow
and I want to surround you with blankets
life won’t disappear from you
I promise
it’s okay to rest your head
and sometimes
life doesn’t take us where we’d hoped
but we'll figure it out
somehow
we always have
green fence and
water wars
old diarys collecting
thoughts
our land by the
rainbow
turkish delight and a pleasant invite to
the kids party
your summer resort
and mine
throwing snowballs at kids
making videos
and songs
just dropping by
doing nothing
eighteen years
still counting
you are
and will always be
my good friend
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 9:38 AM UTC
I don’t have any pressure to go sledding
Because I’m still afraid of falling on the ice
And you loved the snow
I don’t have to risk my life on icy back roads every day
On the pretense of returning your things
Just so I don’t have to wait 24 hours to see you
I don’t have an extra pair of your shoes under my bed
From when you accidentally left them there
You were always leaving your things around
I don’t have a second home to spend the day at
With open fields full of snow banks for fort-building
The house is gone and so are you
I don’t have a reason to build a snow-fort this year
No one cares to sleep in it, it’s too cold
You were that kind of crazy
I don’t have someone to bake cardamom cookies with
We both had sticky dough on our hands
And we washed them in the same sink at the same time
I don’t have a friend at the Christmas parties
Who can back up my wild stories about the week
And argue with me about the rules for card games
I don’t have a cuddle-buddy for watching movies
We never really got the chance to do that
We were always running off to get some alone time
I don’t have to hide when I’m changing out of my wet snowy clothes
Because you’re never going to walk in from the cold
And start changing your clothes too
I don’t have a fire in my hearth
But I’m sure there’s one in yours
I used to enjoy watching you make them with your dad
I don’t have any wet, ***** sandy puddles to clean up
Because you’ll never walk across my kitchen
And forget to take off your boots
I don’t have to walk around barefoot
Even if it means getting my socks wet
Because you’re not there to remind me with your calloused toes
I don’t have twice as many presents under the tree
Not because we ever exchanged gifts, we were too poor
But every present you received and loved made me happy too
I don’t have snow down my neck from the snowballs you threw
I don’t have wet globs of melting ice in my hair because you tackled me
I don’t have anyone to make tea for, because I don’t even like tea
I don’t have your countless little siblings to share my snacks with
I don’t have to make cooking mistakes because I can’t bring you baked oatmeal
I don’t have a built in heater to share the backseat with
I don’t have a hoodie I can pass back and forth between us
I don’t have a companion to go on long walks with
I don’t have a curious mind to share kissing ideas with
I don’t have a hand to hold when I’m about to fall down on the ice
I don’t have you
*This is the time of year that makes me miss you
I start to notice the empty spaces in my life
And there are little things everywhere to remind me of you.*
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 11:08 AM UTC
The things you find when you leave your husband, are not the things you think you'll find.
A missing earring, a couple of quarters, a dime, a nickel and three pennies all stuck behind the makeup.
Those are the things you're happy to see. Those are the safe things. The things that make you think, "oh, well it's a good thing I'm finally cleaning out this cupboard." But then, then you stop. Because you aren't just cleaning up. It's not spring, this isn't a cleaning rampage. This is packing.
This is leaving.
This is the hardest thing you've ever had to do and no one is there for you.
This isn't anyone else's battle to fight.
It's a long time coming, 6 years of tears. 6 years of laughing.
it's the laughing that made you stay.
All the conversations about being so unhappy. All the friends who have said
"Well, if he really makes you that unhappy why don't you leave?"
As if the difference between happy and unhappy is as easy as I want it to be.
Like hopscotch.
Because what if it's all true?
What if the reason you're unhappy is because you are
"An embarrassment as a wife?
Who can't cook.
Who can't clean.
Who dropped out of school.
Who barely has a job.
You're embarrassed 'cause I'm yelling? How do you think I feel?"
If all that is true then leaving won't make you happy.
Leaving isn't going to change anything but your address, marital status and financial situation.
Leaving won't solve the problem, staying will.
Staying, there's no way in hell you're staying. You might have a snowballs chance out there but in here you're already dead.
Slowly every time you remember it isn't true.
I can cook, pasta, casserole, chocolate chip cookies and stir fry.
I make bacon and eggs, pancakes and waffles, coffee and cigarettes.
I can clean, vacuum the house, throw all the q-tips away that are left on the counter, pick up dishes that are not mine all over the house, but if not wanting to be a maid means failure I'll take it.
I'm going back to school, I'm not a good student, college is scary but I'm tackling those demons.
I have a job, I'm a nanny, I'm helping raise someone else's kid because I think that's worth while.
I am not embarrassed by myself. I like who I am.
YOU cannot take that away from me.
So I'm going to leave, for fear of more scars and just because the scars don't show doesn't mean they aren't there.
Because the things you find when you leave aren't found in the make-up cupboard.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 9:32 AM UTC
Mood stabilizers, they call them, but in some ways, they're more like painkillers for your heart. They numb the feelings so that you don't have the extreme moods you are accustomed to.
When you have a mood disorder, everything you feel is so much more intense, and so much more certainly snowballs out of control. That's most of the problem; the complete lack of control you have over your chaotic emotions.
But then you go to a doctor, and they give you happy little pills called stabilizers to do just as they're told to. Stabilize you. Normalize you.
Funny thing is, even with the little heart painkillers, you'll never be normal. Even if you keep up a fantastically ordinary facade, you will never be ordinary. You will always have those little pills in your pocket telling you that you are not good enough the way you are, that you must change.
Its a double-edged sword, these pills. Because some days you wonder why you can't just be you, why do you need these drugs in your veins, but then you remember the cuts on your arms and the painful nights where you drowned in your own tears and you remember why even you don't think the person you are is acceptable. Get better, Grace, be better, Grace. The words pound in your ears until you forget who you used to be and you are always striving to be something more, something better. You strive until it kills you.
You are stronger, you can beat it, they say.
What if I don't want to beat it, though, just want to have control of it? I never want to feel less than everything, I never want to feel so dull and numb that it kills me more than the pain ever did, I never want to beat myself, I simply want to be me but controllable.
Because right now I'm uncontrollable and that's terrifying.
Painkillers for your heart, numbing you until you can't feel anymore. But sometimes I wonder if I really want to feel numb.
Do I want to be me, or who everyone wants me to be?
One is safer than the other, but which one is really living?
Because all I want is to feel alive, but I don't know whether surviving will entail that.
Painkillers or killer pain.
That is my decision, one I'm not ready to make. Maybe tomorrow, when mania is not so close to my throat.
Maybe tomorrow, because I am far too afraid of today.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Glistening, sparkly, glorious,
Each one unique.
Cold, Icy, Soft on my tounge.
The snow blanketing the world,
Snowmen, snowballs and snow angels.
Oh no! Here comes the sun!
Don't let the snow melt away!
Aww, we're too late,
It's gone away 'til next year!
Jul 23, 2010
Jul 23, 2010 at 2:17 PM UTC
Stars are actually snowballs, constantly being thrown at each other by the playful children
that are the Old Gods.
Planets are ornaments
that adorn the Christmas tree
in the center of the Solar System.
One of them has a floral pattern,
one of them has the British flag on it,
and one of them, I think, is half-shattered, only held together
by the holy adhesive that is tape.
The meteors are popcorn garlands,
that we popped the other night.
Now they're stale and flavorless,
so we decided
to decorate space
with them.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
A breeze of cold air
Greeted me as I went outside
I see thick snows covering
The empty streets where I live
On my way to school
I saw little children
Throwing snowballs at each other
Giggling as the ball of snow hits them
I shove my hands in my pockets
As the wintry climate
Starts to thicken around me
Right before my eyes
Snow started falling from above
I reach out my hand
To catch a crystal of snow
And waited until they piled up
December is nice
Despite the frosty ice
Cold, yet heartwarming
This is the season of felicity
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
Don't you wish that Christmas
Was a Currier and Ives scene
Where the snow was falling softly
In the woods of evergreen
Where horses pulled the sleighs
Through the village and the fields
Where the children played at snowballs
With just scarves to act as shields
A time of innocence gone by
Where Christmas was serene
Where the world was fairly limited
And not shown on a screen
A time where people had some class
And Christmas was a day
For families to just spend some time
Not compare how much they paid
A painting showing everyone
Out skating on the lake
While carol singers sang their songs
To see the joy that they could make
I would love to have a Christmas
Like an old time Christmas card
But today, it would be difficult
It could be done, but would be hard
A Child's Christmas in Wales we'd read
And we'd follow it with more
We'd sing songs to our hearts delight
And we'd open up the door
for Christmas is for sharing
Not for self fulfilling greed
A Currier and Ives type Christmas
Might be just the thing we need
This year, I'll watch no movies
About Christmas elves and such
I'll make each treat we eat at home
And by the fire, stand a crutch
I'll volunteer and feed the poor
And I'll go to church as well
Wait....who am I kidding
Well, it was a nice thought....What The Hell!!
Merry Christmas
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 7:59 PM UTC
I always thought
The tiny little creatures
That we call hamsters
Were adorable
When they run on the tiny wheel
That is
Until I realized that
I'm the hamster
Running, running, running
But going nowhere
My anxiety propels me
To run, run, run
My instinct is to run away
But, just like the small creature
It just loops around me
I push it away
And it gets worse
And it just snowballs
Growing bigger
And bigger
And BIGGER
Then I'm stuck
Spinning so fast
On this hamster wheel
Round and round and round
I'm going faster than the speed of light
And I can't process things
But I brought this upon myself
By thinking, I could run away in the first place
Stupid
Stupid
Stupid
Stupid
I am so stupid
I have a mental illness
And it's not going away
No matter where I run
It's like a small child
Clinging to my leg for dear life
No matter what I do
That **** thing is with me
I can tell
That people are getting sick of me
I feel it
A feeling I'm all too familiar with
This is the feeling
That tells me to prepare for the storm
Because they are getting ready to leave
Just like a hamster
It's cute at first
But the squeaky wheel
Slowly drives one insane
And it's not so cute anymore
At first
People pitied me
As they tried to help me
But I continue
To use my anxiety
As a reason for my dysfunction
And it's driving everyone insane
At this point
I want to shut down
Stick a knife in my temple
And **** my brain
So I can think
But I won't
Because I have WAY too much to live for
So my next best option
Is to shut people out
And get the **** done
Alone
Because that's what I'm best at
It was stupid to ask for help
In a war against myself
That no one else sees
Because that's what pushes people away
They see me
For the monster I actually am
With my constant anxiety
And horrible depression
And they get overwhelmed
And leave
So the best thing I can do
Is lock this up
Put on a happy face
And pretend nothing is wrong
Lik I've done for almost 17 years now
I can't lose more people
I just can't handle the heartbreak
And I'm afraid
That my catastrophic brain
Will slowly destroy
The relationships I've worked so hard to build
So here I go
Just gotta hold my breath
Smile
Hold my head up high
And pretend I'm okay
Because that's the only way
To fight this impossible war
Fake it until you make it
Right?
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 9:01 AM UTC
After My Little Black Dog Died of Melanoma.
After the Lumps on Her Small Brittle Body Slowly
Burned to a Pile of Ash in the Vet’s Office. After My Step-Father
Drove in His Ostentatious Truck to Pick Up Her Remains. After I Cried
in My Dorm Room and Tried Not to Wake My Roommate.
Realization that My Loss Does Not Make Me Different. There Are
Graveyards That Span For Miles and They Are Filled With More
Dead Bodies Than I Have Ever Seen. There Are Hundreds of
Thousands of Children in the Foster Care System That Have
Never Met Their Parents or Maybe They Did and it Just Didn’t Work Out.
Kids Who Might Have Lived With Their Terminally Ill Parent(s) For Years
Not Just Days. Kids Who Never Sat in the Opened Up Trunk of Their
Mother’s Black Nissan Pathfinder at the Drive-In Movies. Kids Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Old Grandparents or Who Lived Too Far From Their Too Dead Grandparents. Kids Who Were Never Told Not to Throw Snowballs Because There Might be Big Chunks of Ice in Them. Kids Who
Never Had a Childhood Dog to Cry Over. Kids Who
Don’t Like to Read Because They Were Never Read
Bedtime Stories When They Were Younger. Kids Whose
Mothers Never Called Them Tweetie or Pumpkin or Honey or ***
Kids That Were Not Told to Just Go to the Bathroom When
Their Tummies Hurt Instead of the Health Room. Kids Who Never
Listened to the Spice Girls’ Album Spice World on Cassette on the
Way to the Store. Kids Who Never Got a Peach Drink Out of a Vending Machine at the Pick’N’Save on 27th Street and Still Don’t Know
Exactly What 50¢ Peach Drink Their Mother Bought For Them.
There Are Thousands of Dogs Euthanized Each Day Because of
How Sick They Are or Because They Were at a Shelter For Far Too Long
or Because They Are a Pitbull or a Rottweiler or Some Other
Irrationally Feared and Disliked Dog Breed. We Didn’t Euthanize My
Stage-Four-Cancer-Stricken Dog or Even Get Her Treatment Beyond
Pain Medicine Because We Were Selfish. We Do a Lot of Things Because
We Are Selfish. We Waited Five Days to Pull the Plug on My Vegetable
Mother Because We Were Waiting For a Miracle That We Knew Would
Never Happen Because She Stopped Breathing the Moment the
Aneurysm Burst. My Sister is Getting Married in June and My
Grandfather is Going to Walk Her Down the Aisle in My Mother’s
Place. My Grandparents Had to Move In With My Sister After My
Grandmother Fell Down Too Many Times and Didn’t Take Her Health
Problems Serious Enough. There Are Repercussions For Thinking
You Are Safe When You Are Really Not.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 10:18 PM UTC
I stood in the freezing cold.
And the rain felt like snowballs.
On a side bench under neon lights, I sat.
With a blue circle surrounding my eye,
when somebody almost knocked my
lights out. Just staring at those who
gawked at me. As I smoked under a
store roof top. This is when I saw you.
You walked on by. To my surprise,
You were as handsome as ever.
"Life must be treating him well."
There was a provoking sound out of
the gaping sky to jump in front of a
bus. You would pay attention.
Maybe stop to see me lying there.
I'm not okay as my quivery voice
claimed. But, you didn't detect the
disturbing echos in the background.
So I hung up the phone.
I, the old worn out dish rag.
I, the door mat to most people.
Still, I thought you would have an
instant flashback. A relapse of our
long history together. Instead,
here I stand in the freezing rain.
And you can't even remember my name.
It's Ada... I uttered. The lighter burning
my fingertips. The expression on your
face. It told our story. I kept walking
through the foggy night.
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 8:03 AM UTC
Our fingers dropped snowballs,
and laced together
in heated pockets.
Our cheeks dusted icy white,
with hot insides
from rich cocoa.
Our eyelashes clutched flurries,
later happy tears
by the fireplace.
Our bodies shiver stripped of clothes,
embrace and cling
under fleecy covers.
Our whispers rose in the cold,
vapored souls eloping
with lover's warmth.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
On Christmas Day we wake up
We've no stocking on our bed
We've got a plastic kit box
taking up space there instead
You see, we aren't at home with you
Even though you wish we are
We're celebrating Christmas
Over here in Khandahar
A big Merry Christmas to friends and family
of Cpl. Mike Cannandale of St. Louis, Missouri, USA
We have our turkey dinner too
Stuffing, taters, pumpkin pie
We all sit here telling stories
And it's hard just not to cry
so, we do, because we're not back home
Having Christmas like you all
But, we're over here in Khandahar
Because we all answered the call
Merry Christmas to all friends and family of Liuetenant James Mc Caskill
of Great Grimsby, Lincolnshire, England
We have a snowman by our tent
He's made of plywood, painted white
Thank god, we made no snowballs up
We'd get splinters in a fight
We go to church and pray for peace
And wish we could go home
But, over here at Christmas time
There's just no where to roam
Merry Christmas to friends and family of
Captiain John Watson, PPCLI, in Greenwood, Nova Scotia, Canada
We made our videos last week
To send you our best wishes
We'd all love to be back with you
Washing up those Christmas dishes
For now, we are one family
Joined in heart, and soul and mind
Having a Christmas meal in Khandahar
The best meal of it's kind
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to friends
and family, of Marine Master Sgt. Tim Wilcox, Plano, Texas, USA
Next year we will be home with you
Having Christmas as we should
Praying for peace, hope and prosperity
And all things that are good
for now though, we are over here
missing you this Christmas Day
We just hope you're thinking of us
As we keep the foe at bay
Merry Christmas to all the friends, family, co-workers and supporters
of all the soldiers in War Zones everywhere, who can't be at home this Christmas
May they all get home safe.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year
Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 7:34 PM UTC
Snow has always had a unique quality to it, in that its arrival expresses a combination of pleasant, yet bleak sensations due to the lightness of its pure appearance and the cold weather which is inevitably a part of the experience; this quality made for an especially interesting happening one winter morning. Having awoken to a fresh coating of the white, fluffy powder at a friend’s house, the first thought to enter our collective minds was donning our coats and gloves, and dashing out to explore the exquisite beauty of the scene. Snowballs zipped over our heads, hills threw us along with vociferous fervor, and a snowman came into being before our eyes. In the midst of all this excitement, we were too preoccupied to notice the snow’s icy fingers as they crept into our down-encased souls. However, only a few short hours after the excitement began, the cold began to achieve its frigid goal and we were forced back indoors, the wonder of a midwinter’s day quickly robbed from our once unsuspecting minds.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 10:21 PM UTC
If I am blessed with magical wings, I'll hold you tight and fly so high
So you could dance with the moon and sing to the stars
While I watch and admire your talent with a proud sweet sigh
And let them take you on a journey from Earth to Mars
If I am blessed with the power to disappear, I'll bring you with me
To a beautiful place with mountains of snow, your utmost enjoyment
So you could make snowballs, whilst your face lights up with impish glee
I'll let you throw them right at me and see your eyes sparkle with merriment
If I am blessed with immortality, I would love you forever
I'll unceasingly protect you from all the masked faces and cruel intentions in this temporary world
I'll stand by you to face every challenge life has to offer
And through the whole path of your life, not yet unfurled...
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC
With thoughts to still christmas mornings
with crisp of air and heart of tongue
a battle with ice, snowballs sound fun
the cheery fellow robin nurturing the misty sun
unknown tracks lay path ahead
through a magical woodland
or mereside instead
with every card sent a piece of ones heart
and with every toast and every sip
a thought of cherish , companionship a love lost or friend
but just remember with a mind of peace
for this christmas should be nothing more
than a relaxed, content treat
for you and any other you should happen to meet.
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 7:24 PM UTC
Don't let the Human Race down
theres too much loitering on the breeze.
Best un- invite their crypto smiles.
and Everything is Corporate,
bumbling politicians with no screen presence,
gauche PR and easy pretensions.
Foreign intervention snowballs
as an afterthought
by men of limited intellect
balancing their variegated inconsistencies.
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 1:57 PM UTC
it was christmas in the forest the animals were there
a racoon and a rabbit and great big bear
they gathered all together to have some christmas fun
in the snow so deep beneath the winter sun
they built a great big snowman very big and white
with a pipe and hat and a scarf so very bright
then they made some snowballs to have a snowball fight
playing in the snow gave them such delight
they were very happy that christmas time was here
it gave them so much fun and lots of christmas cheer
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
Right in the dead of a very cold winter
When the tired slave's soul is ash gray
And the cotton plantation becomes whiter ,
Begins a poor slave's hard working day .
In Winter when the master makes a call
This was every slave's worse nightmare
It was time for his hard whips to fall
insurmountable pains he couldn't bare .
Snowballs are piled outside like cotton
His Wounds hurts but as usual he's told
Stay strong brother Kunta, just hold on
Just Stay calm till the barn is closed .
This is the mid of a cold bitter winter
And the crow of a **** heralds a sad day
A slave's prayer to God was a sad whisper
He needed strength to get pass this day.
follow me on twitter@ivanclappers
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Constant cough
Shakes my lower wards
But somehow
Bone-chilling cold
Soothes alignment
Reminds me
The free will
Have we to create
In isolation
Have we our own
Congregation
Less with bells
More with shapes
Have we the will
To create
Bleeding internal
Is my own
Infernal path
Keeps me warm
Gives me all the
Warmth I long for
Makes me laugh
When kids
Throw snowballs
At my fortress
So unaware of the
Wild depths that wait
Oct 19, 2011
Oct 19, 2011 at 8:22 PM UTC