Tag Archives: cold

My Favorite Season

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I long for the days to grow shorter.
The heat to fade and the cold to grow harsher.
Spring only leads to summer, and fall not close enough,
Throughout the year, too much tangled up stuff.
Give me the storms and rain and snow,
As long as their wind remains cold.
Until the sun grows cold and gives us less light,
I’ll pretend I’m sleeping, I’ll pretend it’s night.

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By Herself

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She is awoken by voices,
She is alone.
In a strange place
She calls home.
Echoing off the walls,
In the midst of silence found,
They who have no name,
Each of their words resound.
She hates the silence,
It’s when they are so loud.
Whatever noise she can make
To ward off absent sound.
There is a voice she fears above most,
The one who, from the silence, boasts.
She hates his persistence.
She is insistent that he leave.
She fails and fails and fails again.
Any other voice from the din!
The many shout at her,
She does not give in.
But the one quietly calls,
From behind a door that’s cracked open
When the others leave.
He calls to her, her fears.
Things forgotten from across the years,
And then she remembers why
They were pushed aside.
Then in her heart
She deeply wishes the voices to depart.
And she hears
So softly in her ear,
Him whisper:
“You will believe us absent, asleep,
You will rejoice in your soul deep.
You will forget what I tell you now
And you will remember each time we return our sound
You, in your fear, may not belong,
And we will never truly be gone.”

She closed her eyes,
And awoke alone; or so she was told.
She rose to the window,
And thought the sun too bright to be this cold.

Cold End

The coming dawn, I know it to be cold.
From a distance: voices, faces, in mist,
Are illusions lurking, or so I’m told.
In their discourse, they wildly insist
That if they fervently wish to be real,
It is so. Without permission they lease,
Manafest strange feelings for me to feel,
These things that cause my worries to increase.
A cold path waits for me after waking.
The morning sun abhors my taking warmth,
And I find no heat from it worth taking.
They, in the mist, wish for me to go forth.
Nothing before me but my bitter end:
A garden of sorrow, which I must tend.

Under Quiet Sky

She holds the eye that freeze time.
She chastises cold and space and time.
While the world sleeps and passes by,
She stands in snow, under quiet sky.
As for the eye that she holds,
For now it shall remain closed.
Until the moment it opens and,
A moment lost, then held in hand.

Dedicated to my friend Carole D.

Burning Trains


Often, sinking into foam,
On our transport all alone,
With nothing but the neon glow
Of the broken signs to show
What path lies before, behind.
In the distance, obseverent eyes
Not at all the lonely spies,
We’ve long taught ourselves to despise.
Beside this wreakage, unmoving I,
There in the cold the same as me,
A myriad of eyes I plainly see.
At the end of the tunnel, this is the light:
Just another broken train burning bright.

My Lady and Her Bear

My lady fair,
And her bear,
Set to sea last winter.
Cold wind blowing,
Neither of them knowing,
Whither the snow had sent her.
But their picnick at sea,
Gave them such glee
As they cared not to question.
They said “Let it blow!
We care not for snow!
Our boat shall be our bastion!”
Everyday watching ocean I,
Gaze upon the horizon wishing to spy,
My lost love, her bear, my lady so fair.
But remembering her joy in departing,
I cannot help imparting,
My joy to you,
Of our love so true,
That she’d never be truly departing.

Note on the artwork:
I do not have written permission to use this piece, as I do not know who the artist is. If you know and/or are able to give me the artists name please let me know in the comments that I may obtain the aforementioned permissions. In the mean time, should the original artist be reading this please don’t c/d me 🙂 plz? 


There is a Whisper

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There is a whisper before the dawn
That she has known of all along.
In the silence beside this song,
Is a subtle, prodding, call.
Can she forget it all?
Does she possess desire to recall?
Among the questions, her wandering eye.
She doesn’t really want to die.
Looking for hope in the brightening sky,
Hope being her faiths reward.
A ship to the future she’s aboard.
Shadows in her mind no longer can afford
The lease upon her soul.
Her heart, no longer cold,
On a brighter day she’ll grow old.