Sinking

Your becoming, cuts the moon
in half. I come
blind to hold the
knife.

The aroma of the bush
prepares the golden cups
for drinking milk from the
rage.

His wings were glued, the bird
will not be able to fly
in the night of despair and
song.

Immerse yourself in the assault
and the kiss of blizzard. The
snow is strong, wind is very
low.

poem by Satish Verma
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Its Winter again

It’s not yet snow but I can smell it
Sounds of rubbing hands and bodies freezing
The sip of hot coffee and closed window panes
Looks like its winter again

Snow and fog and the feeling of cold
Snow and fog and celebrations unfold
The late sunlight brings thousands of smiles
The early evenings and the silent miles and miles

The train whistles and only whistles
The windows are closed with passengers and shivers
The touch of wool and the warmth at home
And outside it’s a snowstorm

Its time to celebrate these cold evenings
Entire world celebrates, as there are many things winter brings
The coziness of bed
The unmatched taste of hot bread
Those pink and white colours everywhere

[...] Read more

poem by Amita Singh
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Blizzard

Snow falls:
years of anger following
hours that float idly down --
the blizzard
drifts its weight
deeper and deeper for three days
or sixty years, eh? Then
the sun! a clutter of
yellow and blue flakes --
Hairy looking trees stand out
in long alleys
over a wild solitude.
The man turns and there --
his solitary track stretched out
upon the world.

poem by William Carlos Williams
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Fading tale

The glowing coal
Exposes the vacuity
Encysting the tree bed
Owls sing to a congregation
Of unseen ears

Young bloods gloat in the groove
Of spinning lights
Griming in the galore
Of smokes and pints
As they dance to the elegy
Of the western blizzard

The moon is out
The pregnant old man aghast
As the orb of mats remains void
And unborn tales fade

poem by Lucius Ndimele
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Comes Love

Comes a rainstorm, put your rubbers on your feet
Comes a snowstorm, you can get a little heat
Comes love, nothing can be done
Comes a fire, then you know just what to do
Blow a tire, you can get another shoe
Comes love, nothing can be done
Don't try hiding, 'cause there isn't any use
You will start sliding, when your heart turns on the juice
Comes a headache, you can lose it in a day
Comes a toothache, see your dentist right away
Comes love, nothing can be done
That's all brother, if you ever been in love
That's all brother, you know just what I'm speaking of
Comes a nightmare, you can always stay awake
Comes depression, you may get another break
Comes love, nothing can be done

song performed by Norah Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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The image, as in a Hexagram:

The image, as in a Hexagram:

The hermit locks his door against the blizzard.
He keeps the cabin warm.

All winter long he sorts out all he has.
What was well started shall be finished.
What was not, should be thrown away.

In spring he emerges with one garment
and a single book.

The cabin is very clean.

Except for that, you'd never guess
anyone lived there.

poem by Lew Welch
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Beauty is a horse

Beauty is a horse
Beauty is a horse
So much beauty
Glimmering Coats
Shining manes and tails
Gentle as a summer's breeze
Mean as a blizzard
Loving as a mother
Hateful as anything
Can caress sweetly
Can hurt Both curious and wise
Playful and serious
Strong and weak
Wild as a weed
Tame as a stream
A million colors
Black and white
Beauty is a horse

poem by Katherine Buckley
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Blizzard of 2006

Snow, Snow, and More Snow,
when will you stop!
Of the flakes you do drop.

The Blizzard of 2006,
so much snow has fell,
many people stranded and in a fix

Here in Denver, stuck in traffic,
slipping and sliding, oh so slick,
if i have a wreck, how tragic.

Closed highways, people stranded,
this is on storm, not to forget,
finally at home, here we have landed.

poem by Jim Foulk
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Collected Thoughts

Like tussoh, I collect snow
after the blizzard, churning
the quartz, O December.

Time to hang my boots
and listen the call to quarters.
Windows would kill me.

I had my horrors
I had my wine.
The moon was still calling.

My thumb bleeds
for white skin of sun.
Who was depressed in night?

The collateral damage
is bound to happen; if drones
don’t listen to me.

poem by Satish Verma
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Answer A Question...

the grandfather 'frost' wanted to hug still
who will be of given, and it what, is of giving...
he didn't know that the winter had recognised him,
although he put the cap of the clown on.

it is an exceptional scoundrel, a winter said
till spring. but you, 'don't worry, be happy.. '
he is as the coward which is afraid of his own

shadow.

I will dropp the snowstorm, and what's more,
he will be enough, when it covers, a strong wind up,
he will be escaping there where sun

isn't reaching so quickly - hahaha.

the spring smiled radiantly, talking to the winter:

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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It's Only Love

I think I met my match again
Standing round the candlelight
In the middle of this blizzard
You stood and melted all the ice o
[chorus:]
It's only love
It's only love
If only love comes round again
It will have been
Worth the ride o
You were master of so many
Savior to none
I waged all of my hopes so plenty on you
Now look what I've become
[chorus]
Sometimes lonely is not only a word
But faces I have known
And if you see me could you free me with a smile
So I can let go
[chorus]

song performed by Sheryl Crow
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Long Road Home

When I go back from Billy's place I always have to roam
The mazy road, the crazy road that leads the long way home.
Ma always says, "Why don't you come through Mr Donkin's land?
The footbridge track will bring you back." Ma doesn't understand.
I cannot go that way, you know, because of Donkin's dog;
So I set forth and travel north,, and cross the fallen log.

Last week, when I was coming by, that log had lizards in it;
And you can't say I stop to play if I just search a minute.
I look around upon the ground and, if there are no lizards,
I go right on and reach the turn in front of Mrs Blizzard's.
I do not seek to cross the creek, because it's deep and floody,
And Ma would be annoyed with me if I came home all muddy.

Perhaps I throw a stone or so at Mrs Blizzard's tank,
Because it's great when I aim straight to hear the stone go "Plank
Then west I wend from Blizzard's Bend, and not a moment wait,
Except, perhaps, at Mr Knapp's, to swing upon his gate.
So up the hill I go, until I reach the little paddock
That Mr Jones at present owns and rents to Mr Craddock.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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You Don't Stop Writing Girl, Go Girl Go

You don't stop writing girl
You cannot stop, It is part of your nerves now.
Each vein looks for the proper word.
Each red blood corpuscle has become a syllable
For an imaginary poem in your mind.

Each beat of your heart recites a rhyme
A rhythm. A sonnet. A couplet.
Each curl in your cerebellum thinks of
An imagery. Another metaphor comes
And you grasp them with each breath.

You are alive girl. Go girl stop watching
The snow and make your imagination
Run wild like a snowstorm.

The sound of a snowfall. A snowflake
Layering on the side of your window pane
Speaks to you about this coldness
This beautiful sound of a very lonely song

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As the Team's Head- Brass

As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turn
The lovers disappeared into the wood.
I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm
That strewed the angle of the fallow, and
Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square
Of charlock. Every time the horses turned
Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned
Upon the handles to say or ask a word,
About the weather, next about the war.
Scraping the share he faced towards the wood,
And screwed along the furrow till the brass flashed
Once more.

The blizzard felled the elm whose crest
I sat in, by a woodpecker's round hole,
The ploughman said. 'When will they take it away? '
'When the war's over.' So the talk began –
One minute and an interval of ten,
A minute more and the same interval.
'Have you been out? ' 'No.' 'And don't want to, perhaps? '

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Thomas
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Hill of Pains

More I rise
More I feel loneliness
Cruel and merciless
Fatal blizzard I withstand
Witness the frozen ice
Faces are more colourless
Hearts are colder inside

Hundreds of tons
The folds of the words
Pressed together tight
A nail in the chest
The hill of pains untold
Rises more and more

That day the hill melts
The rivers over flow
The moment I meet with you
I get a sigh of relief

[...] Read more

poem by Abdul Wahab
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On This Last Night Of Winter

On this last night of winter
The memories that come to me
Are ones that I'll surely never forget
This winter of this year

You girls are young
But you're angels
Plain to the eye
Easy to see
But with shining qualities within
You all have been here with me this long winter
And it was truly long believe me
And as such
This will be a winter to remember
Even if it was truly long
Beyond compare

As the weather outside prepares for one final light snowstorm
I pray to the angels above
Keep these girls safe from harm's ways

[...] Read more

poem by Justin Gildow
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Winter's Snowstorm

Nature hires her white winter coats
To still trees starkly dressed
Motion to the scene as wildlife notes.
Snowflakes settle on a Robins head blessed.

He pouts his red chest, not to blush
Rabbit stops wiggles his nose whisking snow,
Fuelled by the icy breeze’s push,
A flash from his eye’s and off he goe’s,

Synchronous vibrations of Mother Nature gropes
unleashing the resonant howls as the driving winds,
Fuel a snowstorm down the mountain slopes,
‘Neath overhang rocks the wolf packs huddle begins.

Unseen the movement of time holds its breath
For bears the whole winter in slumber,
Oblivious to an icy freezing death
Kept alive by their hibernating Jumper,

[...] Read more

poem by Ken e Hall
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Orchard Trees, January

It's not the case, though some might wish it so
Who from a window watch the blizzard blow

White riot through their branches vague and stark,
That they keep snug beneath their pelted bark.

They take affliction in until it jells
To crystal ice between their frozen cells,

And each of them is inwardly a vault
Of jewels rigorous and free of fault,

Unglimpsed until in May it gently bears
A sudden crop of green-pronged solitaires.

poem by Richard Wilbur
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Homelessness

Bending the forked-stick to find
underground water ―
and immortality of thirst.

Lips were fragile. There were
no dew drops on the upper lip.
It tasted like a frozen moon.

Clouds had sucked the childhood.
No one picks up the fireflies
from dark bushes.

Tasered by stings, the moonlight
hangs by the window.
I watch you undressing.

After the blizzard, a rocking chair
waits. Hypothermia. The musical
return of the mute did not take place.

poem by Satish Verma
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Frozen Ash

Can you see me flash like lightning?
Can you hear me thunder o'er this blighting?
With dragon's breath you may burn me,
With a Titan's stare you may freeze me.
Like ghosts in the catacombs I will linger;
Never shall I fall!

So try your best, let your storms come.
Like a blizzard they will pass.
Like meteor showers they will end.
I won't become your frozen ash.
As for me, like the northern lights I shall shine.
You can't black me out.

poem by Soren Valentine
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