424
it must be really cold
out there
as your picture shows
my fingers on the keys
are frozen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Unpacking Mother's Things
Her wedding picture’s with the recipes
for meatloaf. Months before Mother died
she saved this lock, but kept unmatching keys.
This purse holds rings and tokens. Like a tease,
a box within a box, tucked safe inside,
her wedding picture’s with the recipes.
She loved to cook. Now, here’s a bunch of peas,
some lentils and a sprig of parsley, dried.
She saved this lock, but kept unmatching keys
all sorted by some system based on threes,
perhaps, or color. Logic is defied:
her wedding picture’s with the recipes
and here’s a broken comb and two dead bees,
a postcard of a mule with boy astride.
She saved this lock, but kept unmatching keys
while autumn headed for its first hard freeze
and she put mind and memory aside.
Her wedding picture’s with the recipes
she saved and locked, and kept unmatching keys.
poem by Taylor Graham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Frozen
Frozen
By: Adam M. Snow
Memories frozen and gone,
like sands in broken time,
'gainst the blackest of dawn,
yet cold with no love sublime.
To be alone in ice of despair,
with hearts cold and frozen.
There's nothing left to bear,
for all who are chosen.
Like frost in the wind,
chilling a lonely being,
leaving nothing to mend,
like a ghost without seeing.
Dreams now cold like ice,
falling to pieces,
not once but twice,
as the days decreases.
What else is there to know,
with everything oh so cool?
Like being ghost in the snow,
and you being the fool.
All's now cold like a winter's night,
like little breezes dusk and shiver,
and with unpleasant delight,
with fear all is quiver.
Staring now out a hoar frost window,
alone, cold and wilted,
with your sufferings and woe,
waiting to strike you dead.
All's now cold hearted,
like frozen in ice,
as all's departed,
and you're the sacrifice.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A silly poem about keys
Keys can open doors
they can lock you in
keys on a piano
but not on a Violin.
Keys to a safe
inside a vault
keys lost again
well that's your fault.
Keys on an old typewriter
and on a modern laptop
keys stolen by a thief
to break into a shop.
Keys hang on a keyring
or on a fancy chain
but how on earth can you
dropp them down a drain?
Keys for this and that
a key lying under the mat
having to rush to the Vet
it's been swallowed by the cat.
So I'll end this poem now
and try and get my key
I dropped it down a drain
oh stupid and silly me!
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The piano chords
You play the piano chords
In this sonata as well as
In the music of Prokofiev,
Emphatically catching the music's mood.
Fingers seem to stick the keys
And the keys seem to direct the fingers,
When the thumbs move under them.
You both look like a single being,
In together.
The piano seemingly breaks the sounds.
They penetrate my soul,
Searching for the necessary words.
I understand the story of your feelings.
Dedicated to Richard Clayderman
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Gone Is Inspiration
A thought!
A blurry thought in my head
and my pen is full of ink
I am dry,
I am sore
I can't channel my soul
before the words of my heart
would seep right through my
fingers
and possess my pen
but now I am blank
I am dry,
I am empty again
I hate the times when
my mind is still
and still I cannot channel
the artistry in me
the flame of inspiration
has died out
I am cold
I am stuck
my brain is paused
why is this so?
Pages beg
to be written on
keys plead for me to type
stories linger within
waiting for me
to give them life
but i cannot
I am frozen
and so are my words
so is the rhythm
the rhyme
the floetry
of my poetry
has flown off into
the sky
and with the birds
go my words
And I am here,
I am dry
Gone is inspiration!
poem by Upile Chisala
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When it will be spring
see flowers on my window
Cold winds whipping about
Soon I think
Wolves will begin to howl
When will it be spring?
Frozen days
When nature stands statue still
Cold hands, cold feet, cold heart
When will it be spring?
Haven’t heard a bird sing
The sun shines through a frozen haze
Sad days, cold days
When will it be spring?
poem by Jaya Ghosh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is New Love
We are strangers here
I suppose
We are not welcome
Or so Im told.
We are not old friends
But believe this,
We can be nightmares.
Picture the man when the heartbeat stops
This is new love.
We are the hunters,
So one by one
You know well find you.
Picture the man when the heartbeat stops
These boys of passion
Will rule the world
Put their fingers in a dyke
Well you know its what she needed.
These boys of passion
With cruel idiot smiles
Fight for you.
You know, they said so.
Cold fascination
With dead sound.
Oh God let me sleep
Forever.
Picture the man when the heartbeat stops.
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out In The Cold
The day fell down, the air got cold
I walked out in the street
Daydreamed for a mil e or two
Staring at my feet
Like a workin boy, out of luck
Fallin through the cracks
Night rolled in, I turned back home
A hard wind at my back
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Th eres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Well I woke up
My brain was stunned
I could come around
I reached out to grab my keys
Tumbled to the ground
I thought of you
Starry eyed
I wondered where we stand
Did I just fall from your arms
Down into your hands
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Im out
Standin in a doorway
Im out
Walkin around
Hands in my pockets
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (o ut in the cold)
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Devil You Were
I keep telling myself that I don't need you
but you keep whispering in my ear telling me that I do
and I believe you
I believe everything you say
even though it was everything you said
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
Because no other girl has been here since you left
and for no other girl have I shead a tear, I'm all cried out I have none left
cause I know you love to think that you took them all
but they were gone long before
for you I didn't watch a single one fall, I was never alive I was already dead
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
and I paint it red
I paint it red
the colour of blood shows that it is already dead
I keep telling myself that I don't need you
but you keep whispering in my ear telling me that I do
and I believe you
I believe everything is red
even though it was everything you said
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
and it is all red
he paints it red
my picture of his horns it shows its now never dead.
poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's Simple Is True
Turn to me with frozen lips
Your hands are icy cold
Your eyes burn bright against the frost-bit sky
You never seemed more lovely than you do tonight
Pale on the horizon
Like leaves frozen in the snow
Our two shadows merge inseparably
Will time stand still if it's pierced with cold
Chorus:
The more I live
song performed by by Jewel from Spirit
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picture Picture by Tanya Markova
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Nang gabing masilayan ka...
Dala-dala ko pa
Ang aking lumang camera
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Campus gig noon at nag-aya ang tropa
Maraming bebot ang nagsasayaw
Nang biglang mapansin kita
What a beautiful face
At kinunan kita
What a beautiful face
Angat ka sa iba
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
I saw her face
Mukha syang taga-a a outerspace
Si Mang Roger ako'y kinalabit
Ang sabi
Halika na balot muna
Bago ka mag-konica
Na seramika gawa sa pabrika
Lagot ka na ang kamera may mahika
Ano ang lohika kung bat nahilo ka
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
Bigla kang nawala
What a beautiful face
Ako'y natulala
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
O nasaan ka na
What a beautiful face
Hinahanap-hanap ka
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face...
poem by Shi Yelami
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time passes too quickly
I feel winter’s first cold fingers touching
and time flash by to quickly
as if the last years are waiting on me
and I button my jacket tighter
and know I really need a proper coat
that can rid me of the cold.
I feel winter’s first cold fingers touching
and time passes too quickly
and I wonder where I fit into it all
and everything is different from what it once was
and things have gotten other and new meanings
and I am tired of struggling against life
and I feel my winter’s first cold fingers touching me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Winter Remembered
Two evils, monstrous either one apart,
Possessed me, and were long and loath at going:
A cry of Absence, Absence, in the heart,
And in the wood the furious winter blowing.
Think not, when fire was bright upon my bricks,
And past the tight boards hardly a wind could enter,
I glowed like them, the simple burning sticks,
Far from my cause, my proper heat and center.
Better to walk forth in the frozen air
And wash my wound in the snows; that would be healing;
Because my heart would throb less painful there,
Being caked with cold, and past the smart of feeling.
And where I walked, the murderous winter blast
Would have this body bowed, these eyeballs streaming,
And though I think this heart's blood froze not fast
It ran too small to spare one drop for dreaming.
Dear love, these fingers that had known your touch,
And tied our separate forces first together,
Were ten poor idiot fingers not worth much,
Ten frozen parsnips hanging in the weather.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Another Day
The sun is finally shining, warming my skin,
The horses are poking their heads out of the barn,
The snow has lifted, revealing green grass,
The ground still frozen, ice still on the pond,
Playing with the early morning mountain due, in between my fingers,
Off the leaf of a rose bush.
I pluck a flower out of the cold ground,
The sweet innocents of the little pink thing makes me smile,
Twirling in my fingers ever so gently,
Smelling its aroma,
Such magnificence in a small thing,
The peddles softly brushing against my checks
Sitting on this hard wooden bench,
All bundled up, braving the cold,
Admiring my flower, seeing puppies play, and
The sun that I haven’t seen in weeks, say hello.
Awe how nature can silently sing.
All to the tune of the kitchen mixer’s bellow,
Someone is making cookie doe.
Yep this is a start to just another day,
Another day, in Oregon
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose lies on the piano keys....
Rose lies on the piano keys.
It still hears the sounds of music.
Hopelessly dump it lies,
Echoes of love songs arise.
Glowing petals fade by the past shade,
With the yesterday’s love groan.
Black and white keys played
To the only one and his own.
Memories of the fingers remained.
They were beautiful love skill,
A shrill cries of love and pain.
Rose lies on the piano keys…
It’s a memory of the old follies
And the fairies giving the dowries.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
January 30th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger
Stranger are those things today,
Yesterday...
Were not perceived.
Stranger still,
Are events intended...
To send shock waves,
To stay and not leave.
And stranger are those philosophies,
People adapt to and keep.
Even though old these philosophies have grown,
Cold and frozen to the touch of one who holds.
Cold and frozen...
Is the stranger who beholds bold but old goals.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am The Only One With THESE Keys
The first question I would ask,
Of anyone expressing a wish to drive...
Through life without dues to pay.
With only desire in their eyes.
And a request from me to give them my keys,
Is this...
What makes anyone think I will turn over keys,
To something I have earned...
Because the doing of it I have made to look easy?
I've got to witness some sweat with labor done first.
With initiative that has been prioritized.
Life is not a cakewalk...
To choose what frosting to taste to then decide.
'You are not the only one with keys.'
That's true.
But guess what?
I am the only one with THESE keys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold and Alone
Cold and alone,
Shrouded by mist,
Frozen and desolate,
An isolated tundra sits, and waits,
Cold and alone,
Intimidating to humans,
A lonely snow-capped mountain,
In the middle of nowhere,
Cold and alone,
As the night wades on,
Screaming endlessly,
But drowned out by the howling wind,
Cold and alone,
Lost forever,
Encased in ice and snow,
Never to be discovered,
Cold and alone,
Hope’s candle flickering,
Buried for eternity,
Cold and alone.
Binding The Wind
You are breathing
It is cold
And your breath
Is seen in the wind
As white smoke
As you speak
I see your
Words in the air
And the wind
Carries them
All to me
In my nostrils
Then to my heart
I take my fingers
Touching your
Mouth feeling
Your lips
Molding some
Words of white smoke
To this cold day
I am cold
And weak
But I shall have
A way of making
My fingers coil
Into a rope
And I shall
Bind the wind
Where your words
Are contained
My fingers
Ropes of this
Meticulous mind
In this lovely chase
It is cold today
I am weak today
I bind the wind
Your words of
Love your warmth
In affection
And I bind them
All as I bundle
Them into a pillow
On my head
A pillow in my heart
On this cold day
I will not be weak.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Frozen Pride
Snow covered hills
In the deep of January
Freezing cold
Jitters makes me shake
On the side of the house
Icicles cling high
Overly clear
Unlike the sky
Overcast and gray
Precipitation likely
Heard just now
The winter wind
I'm frozen in place
Can't feel my feet
I wonder why
I'm standing outside
In the dead of winter
Seizing the frozen pride
Soon to participate
With the dance of the cold
poem by Russell Sivey
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