Frigid air that sears the lungs, Stings the nose and burns the eyes; Crystallizes air itself, Grows diamond reaching to the skies.
Category: Poetry
Lame attempts at poetry, generally written to please myself or as a form of self-prescribed therapy.
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Crystal Cold
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Abandoned
Far north of the sun on the sands of a beach A hulk lies half buried on land Who knows what it carried when last leaving port Now it's holds carry water and sand Abandoned in place when the sea broke it's back For decades it's been here and will Forever remain 'till the steel rots away Ground to dust in nature's great mill
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Winter Watchman
Searingly cold, I am chilled to the bone Crystalline ice coats the ground Darkness paints over the bluest of skies Snow muffles the loudest of sounds Rational beings are tucked in warm holes To hibernate is natures great plan But standing here now, knee deep in new snow I marvel at a brazen lone man He stands there alone, protecting the globe Keeps watch with a resolute stance A sentinel silent, a witness as well He begs us to not miss our chance
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Mumble grumble
Mumble grumble gripe and rumble Roiling waves of discontent Leave me be and let me simmer Since my patience now it's spent Don't expect commiseration Just because you love this stuff What to some is pleasure simple Can't be distanced far enough
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Little Things
They say don't sweat the small things, But give big ones all they're due. A principle that comfort brings, A guide star pointing true. Yet massive things when broken down, Are small in truth and deed. So monstrous stuff of great renown, Must garner little heed.
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Not Nobody
Dickenson's poem says she's nobody, She couldn't be further from right. Everyone's someone to somebody, A jewel and a treasured delight. Some discount their talents and value, Our Saviour sees through all of that, To cherish potential and virtue, And love us wherever we're at.
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Time
Time is impatient and simply won't wait, While we argue with chance and bargain with fate. It presses us onward in spite of our fears, Turning seconds to minutes and minutes to years.
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Rust
Badly swollen and weak It groans and it grinds It creaks and it squeaks Then it seizes and binds. So more leverage apply Yes! It yields just a bit And shears off the next turn I'm so mad I could spit.
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A New Man
Peetie the one-legged pirate, came stumping along down the path, wearing his stripe-ed pajamas, and desperately needing a bath. Grumbling, mumbling, and grousing along, A cloud hanging over his head, Scowling and wearing a horrible frown, Ever since he climbed out of his bed. His grizzled long beard looked like lightning, His eyebrows were tied up in knots. Powder smoke blackened his visage, His mustache held clumps of dried snot. As he thundered along down the alley, He stepped in through several a door, Collecting a bit at each halting, What he needed and not a thing more. At the barber's he purchased a razor, At the chandler a bit of sweet soap, The apothecary sold a toothbrush, As he wondered "what's wrong with that bloke?" The tailor delivered a jerkin, Sold him pants and a pair of clean socks, The cobbler was paid for a pair of new shoes, And a thong to tie back his loose locks. Then into the bathhouse he trundled, His horde tucked up under his arm, Paid his two-bits for a bathtub, In spite of the clerk's shocked alarm. As steam rose up off of the water, And lather built up on the top, Grumbling that once boomed like thunder, Now slowed to a trickle, then stopped. Two years on the sea was forever, No water for proper hygiene, Had taken it's toll on his feelings, And made him a sight to be seen. Now scraped clean of dirt, grit, and anger, He stepped out a brand-new made man, And looked almost like the town dandy, Even if somewhat lean and too tan. Ahoy there me comrades and neighbors, He cheerily called on his way, Greeting each friend and acquaintance, By wishing a fantastic day.
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Sunset
Each day that dawns begins anew, Brings light to what was dark. Dries morning dew and opens eyes, To see a morning lark. Yet daylight too must yield its way, Retreat as evening comes. Give place to swift encroaching dark, Though tasks lie still undone. We cannot stop this constant churn, Though fear or doubt cry out. The rolling tides of forcing change, Are deaf to human shouts.