Inspired by Issa - Morning Frost
morning frost
he blows at his steaming
hot dumpings
inspired by
morning frost-
yet still a child
sells flowers
-Issa,1820
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Frosted Glass
Frost flowers on my windowpane.
Jack Frost has visited again.
I always know when he's been here.
Because pretty patterns appear
As if by magic overnight.
A tracery of sparkling white.
A sight that sure to satisfy.
The most discerning artist's eye.
It's beautiful though transient.
Frost paintings can't be permanent.
It will last for an hour or two.
Before it melts as it's sure to.
Frost flowers bloom beneath the moon.
‘til morning comes alas too soon.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Frost
Frost covers fallen bridges,
As it does the ones that stand.
The whiteness settles overywhere.
It's gone when I touch your hand.
The morning is when we see the frost,
Yet we know it came the night before.
I've been awake, still it has come;
Quiet and cold to our locked door.
We have watched frost go.
Have you ever seen it start,
As it wanders up the gulch
And slinks into our hearts?
Then there's always morninig,
Or you suppose ther'll always be.
The sun the frost is melting
As we go on, you and me.
We need to talk more when it's forming,
Not just be glad when it's gone,
For, unlike flowers, we seen to wither,
Warmed only by the dawn.
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Everything Was White
Woke up this morning,
outside I beheld
a wonderful sight.
Jack Frost had been around
and everything was white.
It might have been cold,
but I didn’t care.
You could see your breath
freezing in the morning air.
Out came the scraper
to get the frost of the car,
still it was a wonderful sight
seeing Jack Frost’s handy work
and everything white.
poem by David Harris
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Inspired by Issa - Wisteria Trellis
morning glory
two yellow butterflies'
frolicking flight
inspired by Issa's
wisteria trellis-
behind it, in the light
wildflowers
-Issa,1809
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Inspired by Issa - my hut's lamp
my hut's lamp -
lucky that it magnifies only
my shadow
inspired by
my hut's lamp-
even moths don't come
to the flame
-Issa,1820
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Killing Frost
There is an enchantment in the Killing Frost
It's the most magical night of the year
When the abundant blooms of Summer
Are put to sleep by Frost's frozen tears.
The Killing Frost arrives here silently
Flying in ahead of Winter's incoming wrath
Covering all things that are of the earth
Putting to sleep all flora in her path.
As the late Autumn sun sinks below the horizon
On this Special Night of the year
Plants which were all alive this past morn will be no more
It's time to make way for Winter's Cheer.
Everything Frost kisses will be put to eternal repose
Adorned by Frost's magical breath during the night
All will be dripping in Diamonds in the Morn
With which to dazzle by soft Morning's light.
Winter will be arriving shortly now
And Frost will take her leave
To make way for fluttering snowflakes
Which will come to dance during the long Winter's Eve.
poem by Christine A Kysely (29 December 2010)
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Rippling Mirrors
Rippling mirrors morning
Yellow roads ahead
Winter without warning
Made my roses dead
Now there´s time of evening
Kisses of the cold
Temperaments in a swing
Depth of frost unfold
Grays of shadows close
Murky hours calling
Wintriness morning rose
in window drops falling
Like my love that is lost
On to the past of days
Deep hollow earthly frost
Each its pleasures ways
Rippling morning´s glowing
In the clouds going by
Everything is now going
From its fervor high
Yesterdays were giving
All the things from heart
Now new times are living
In their pathways depart
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Flower-Gathering
I left you in the morning, And in the morning glow, You walked a way beside me To make me sad to go. Do you know me in the gloaming, Gaunt and dusty gray with roaming? Are you dumb because you know me not, Or dumb because you know? All for me And not a question For the faded flowers gay That could take me from beside you For the ages of a day? They are yours, and be the measure Of their worth for you to treasure, The measure of the little while That I've been long away.
poem by Robert Frost
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Inspired by Issa - morning charcoal fire
morning charcoal fire
excitements of the new day
in the fiery sparks
morning charcoal fire
embers' sparks spread
excitements for the new day
morning charcoal fire
sparks greet and give
way to the new day
morning charcoal fire
first the sparks
then the warm new day
inspired by
morning's charcoal fire-
the mountain's pine breeze
wafting by
-Issa,1813
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Inspired by Issa - Spring Peace
spring peace -
greenery sprouts
in the floor cracks
inspired by
spring peace-
a mouse licking up
Sumida River
-Issa,1820
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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from C.A.
bloomingbirds fall from this tree
where flower seasons pass
sweetlip & petalwing now
slain upon the grass
frost & glass
frost & broken glass
barefoot on the splinters of your heart
of frost & glass
loveblind & rippingyarns
a-slither on the vine
Snowking, with your thorny eyes
my happiness conspires
frost & glass
frost & broken glass
barefoot on the splinters of your heart
of frost & glass
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Seaside At Winter
It's amazing to watch the frost's work.
It made the sea side a fairy tale.
The frost's quirk made the sea not for a sail.
The silence is all around.
For a while the time stands still.
The seagulls can't swill.
Like in the realm of Antarctica
Throughout the frost, snow and ice
I see the beauty of a paradise.
But! In the next few moments
The spring will come spelling the frost.
The nature's fulfillment will be the most.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Inspired by Issa - New Year's Morning Temple
smoke denser
than house on fire
new year morning's temple
joss-sticks bigger
and taller than the gods
new year eve's temple
inspired by
on New Year's morning
the prayers to Buddha
come and go
-Issa,1825
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Inspired by Issa - the beach wind blows
over their
boobs and butts
the beach wind blows
inspired by
over rice cakes and jelly
the good spring breeze
blows
-Issa,1807
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Nocturnal artistry for M lady Ann Beard
Nocturnal artistry
The frost adds glitter to the grass.
Which stands erect like silver spears.
Transient beauty which will pass.
The suns rays make them disappear.
Lacy designs on window glass.
More delicate than human art
We’d like to keep them but alas.
WE must accept they will depart.
When morning breaks the sun will rise
Undo the efforts of Jack Frost
which we expect it’s no surprise.
Though we bemoan the beauty lost.
Tonight Jack Frost will paint again
his patterns on each window pane.
Sunday,13 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Inspired by Issa - ET Dance
ET dance
heron tipped beaks
towards sky
inspired by
snow country's
humongous morning-glories
have bloomed!
-Issa,1807
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Gentle Thaw
Thick the mist at early morning's dawn,
Cold the chill that enters by the door,
White the frost, that lies, across the lawn,
Each one piercing, striking to the core
Of one's whole being. Then wakes the foggy morn,
Where sunshine will in time, melt frost on haw,
And rouse the sleeping field mouse in the corn,
By dripping water down upon his paw.
He'll scuttle off, expression all forlorn,
To leave the day to begin its gentle thaw.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Frost
It's amazing to watch the frost's work.
It made the sea side a fairy tale.
The frost's quirk made the sea not for a sail.
The silence is all around.
For a while the time stands still.
The seagulls can't swill.
Like in the realm of Antarctica
Throughout the frost, snow and ice
I see the beauty of a paradise.
But! In the next few moments
The spring will come spelling the frost.
The nature's fulfillment will be the most.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of February,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Hos ego versiculos
*
LIKE to the damaske rose you see,
Or like the blossome on the tree,
Or like the daintie flower of May,
Or like the Morning to the day,
Or like the Sunne, or like the shade,
Or like the Gourd which Jonas had;
Even such is man whose thred is spun,
Drawn out and cut, and so is done.
The Rose withers, the blossome blasteth,
The flowre fades, the morning hasteth:
The Sunne sets, the shadow flies,
The Gourd consumes, and man he dies.
Like to the blaze of fond delight;
Or like a morning cleare and bright;
Or like a frost, or like a showre;
Or like the pride of Babel's Tower;
Or like the houre that guides the time;
Or like to beauty in her prime;
Even such is man, whose glory lends
His life a blaze or two, and ends.
Delights vanish; the morne o'ercasteth,
The frost breaks, the shower hasteth;
The Tower falls, the hower spends;
The beauty fades, and man's life ends.
*
poem by Francis Quarles
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They Went Everywhere Together
Like sky and weather
they went everywhere together
he was rain & she was cloud
he was sun & she was light
she was moon & he was night
like sky & weather
they went everywhere together
he was frost & she was ice
he was fog & she was mist
she was sunrise...he was sunset
he was the sun on a certain morning
she was the sun awakening that morning
like sky & weather
they went everywhere together
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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