The heartlessness of winter

Such a long way to go and I am tired
My feet weigh a ton
Each.

The wretched street lights mock me with
The shiny streaks they draw
On the road.

My sodden hair invades my face and the raindrops
Are relentless, they make me feel like
Crying.

It's dark, it's so dark, the wind is against me
Yet it's the only thing I have
To lean on.

The asphalt's face is stone hard
And its blind eyes stare into the distance
Cold shouldering me.

I've been walking in the dark of winter forever
The flashing eyes of monsters, yellow or red
Pass me by.

I keep on going, though my insides have turned to dust
My hollow bones whistle; the wind plays me
Like a flute.

I am the Old Crone of tattered skirts and ragged scarves
That nobody sees. But no matter. Spring will come
Soon.

The time is ticking away
and I try so hard to make my way

Valentines Day hasn't been the same
back when it was added to my name

the sky screams colors in my eyes
and I can't believe my past lives

its getting colder in this distant dwelling
so dark, so cold, but still constant shelling

if only our path was glowing with arrows
or lead by a bird, for instance some sparrows

we're so distant, so far
and we suspect this is par
but what will bring us together
besides this tight corridor


well atleast we got this poem thread rolling
and I hope none of you consider me trolling

its been a while since a fired these neurons
hell, its been a while since I even heard one

So I hope you enjoy, and God Bless America
Signing out of this thread
Sincerely,
Myendica

Itsy bitsy little spider
down the trellis do you crawl
leaving nary a trace behind her
in the frozen sprawl
of snow that blankets the railing
surrounding the porch out back
of the house, the spider trailing
a web aound the frosty rack
of rusty garden tools that
only spiders like she could
in this wintery corner hang her hat
to sleep that morn, in the rotting wood

What amazing entries so far! Can't wait to read the rest of them, thanks for this thread! Here's my entry:

Top of the Sky

At the top of the sky
A tremor comes and goes
More phantoms on the
Lofty beaches of space
Black night solitude
You cheer the hearts of rage
Bleached in the center on whose paths
Nothing is real except
This lover in a dream

In a crystal icebox all the world sleeps
To sleep's treacherous treason
Dreamer in an avalanche
Of most ancient despair
In the absence of her universe

A woman's body made up of stars
In the desert a triple mystery
Veiled in a dark fog and the buzz
Of worlds and seas pulsing
About heartbeats and a weeping sun
In your bosom archaic ecstasy
I lay an offering
In the antechambers of being
Reach for quivering fulcrum of all life
Which according to the stasis of matter
Become the blind secret changes
In the regional essence of desire

To the statuesque creation
In her robe of changing planets
To the blood-clock ticking
Plunging in depths of immeasurable bleakness

I admit I was trying to break in
It's only that I was never willing to be pulled
Away from this cellar
That I passed out in
Our date at the insomnia motel
At the top of the sky

There shot three golden dots
In a swift white line
On whose palace
Ubiquitous

A moment of silence shrieking lightning
Forever now
Dancing in a cold sweat
A burst heart empty of blood
Caught in frozen vacuum
At the stony edge of void
Sealed for eternity
At the top of the sky.

November 14th is the day of my birth
I hope to be full of gladness and mirth
To help me celebrate, what can you do?
Go to page one, and vote up my Haiku!

*******Winter Wanderland*******

The perils of Winter reveal so much more

Then the other jealous seasons could have ever wished for

O' Phantom Footprints in the snow...

suggesting ulterior motive... voyeuristic endeavor....

From whence did you come from and whence did you go?

Some tracks pass through, from here to there

Others begin as if you jumped out of thin-air!

How long ago did you leave your mark?

Perhaps still lingering by somewhere in the dark

Whether human or mutant remains unclear

Your tracks leave no identity, it would appear

Tonight for sure I will get no rest

for somewhere out there is an uninvited guest!

Now that you left your mark on my land

I say show yourself so I may make my stand!

You remain an enigma, it seems the conclusion

You derive excess enjoyment from my wintery delusion

~~~~I'll keep on wondering about the wanderer~~~~

I take a deep sigh,

head back inside,

walking through my

Winter Wander

Land......



(copied from my myspace account. it lost some of its "translation")

Author: havok

As winter nears
Summer steers
Its way far from the year

Green has fallen
For a shade of autumn
That snow will cover here

The flakes will fall but
Time will show all
That warmth is soon to be near

But all is well
I enjoy my dwell
Among a fire, my dog and a beer

Shameless attempt to bump.

2nd line is pretty sure blamethegreys is whoring for more stars.

Winter is the cruelest of the four Sisters

Her hair is snowy white
Her bloodless lips are thin
Her gaze of pale Moonlight
Would freeze you from within

Her feet of cold marble
Are covered with the lace
Of blue veins, barely visible
Her footprints leave no trace

She has hands of withered bark
And nails made of quickthorn
Her fingers wove the Dark
Long before you were born

Can you hear her, breathing in the Night
As she is stalking you, as your stride grows weaker?
Don't look behind you, keep your eyes on the Light
Calling to you, nascent Dawn, so much sweeter

Winter is the cruelest of the four Sisters
Nature crawls into her arms to die
Yet, how gently she rocks her, while Death lingers
Don't be sad. Spring is riding in, on the wing of Winter's sigh.

Mother Nature

Some times she's in the clouds
Flowing cherry colored lines
Sending thunders eerie sound
That shutter the western skies

The stars are all around her
Blinking so very bright
The morning makes her wonder
Does Heaven has a night...

The sun has an early show
Silently staring around
Her misty wind blowing
Across cold winters ground

Northern Lights break from afar
Only to race around the moon
Just like a shooting star
Freezing the clouds in bloom

Her Descent to the Underworld

Whispers of her voice remains,
And reminds me of warmer longer days,
A beauty no one could surpass,
Stolen away by yuletide’s mass,
Into the dark underworld locked her away,
And turned the season from sunny to gray,
But her love shall never betray,
When the Earth returns to May,
To her God, Persephone shall be released,
And the night’s length be decreased,
And her smile to bring forth the rains,
Falling softly onto the gentle plains,
Her gift of life to fill the earth,
And brings with her newfound Birth,
And all of Greece shall rejoice,
once again hearing her joyful voice.

Alone For The Holidays

Alone for the holidays,
Out here on the road on my own,
Wishing I was home with my family,
Spending this time with the ones that I love.

I call my family on the telephone,
My wife asks me if I'm keeping warm,
I tell her I have you guys on my mind,
and it helps to keep me pushing on.

she puts my little girl on the telephone,
she's crying boo-hooing I go oh no.
through her tears she finally gets it out,
she cries daddy please come home.

Alone for the holidays,
Out here on the road on my own.
Wishing I was home with my family,
Spending this time with the ones that I love.

I tell my wife I got to go,
there's still to many miles left to roll.
I tell her I love her,
and to kiss our kids on the head,
and be sure to tuck our babies in real tight.

Alone for the holidays,
Out here on the road on my own.
Wishing I was home with my family,
Spending this time with the ones that I love.

But I got to keep rolling,
cause you know them bills keep on piling.
sacrifices there are to many,
but this time of year really gets to me.
I swear on my very soul,
this time next year I will be home.

Alone for the holidays,
Out here on the road on my own.
Wishing I was home with my family,
Spending this time with the ones that I love.

Charles Marcello; created Dec 24th, 2000.

I wrote this as a country song while I was away from home. I think it flows nicely as a poem as well. Hope you like it even though its not a happy ending poem/song.

The Truth of Snow

The leaves are skittering on the streets
A chill wind shakes the boughs
The air is rife with fireplace scents
Frost is my nightly guest

The holiday season begins once again
Daily races for bargains and deals
Decorations bud like springtime flowers
A disguise to hide the truth of snow

Animals find their hiding places
Settling in for their long sleep
While people don't understand that concept
And push themselves even harder

This time of year shall fade away
As warmer months sneak in
For now, though, winter coats stay on
And I steel myself for the day.

The Stygian Promise

On Valentine's Day, the reeds let him go.

He had his best suit on and his shiny new shoes
And his blood freshly flowed
His face was suffused with it, the warmth of his Love

Clutched to his chest, a heart-shaped tin
With a big chocolate heart inside
For his Valentine

Crispy February day, crispy gravel underfoot
Afternoon birds, gossiping
A writer plane, over head, scribbling silly nothings

Ahead of him, a forest, then the lake, then her house
The thought of her, his pace quickened
He would please her this time

The forest, trees sleeping standing up, mourning their dead
A rock, suitable for a rest; carefully smoothing trouser folds
He sat, in Divine Peace, watching the clouding of his breath

Now the lake, his favourite place, deathly quiet
Over by the high ridge, past memories of boyish dives
And there, just out of reach, wild camellias in pinks and whites

Lean in, just a little closer, stretch your hand, a little bit further

The path to his lover's house, branching off the road, he can barely see it
Through the savage sleet clawing at his eyes, and the tenebrous skies
But he fights the gleeful wind, intent on keeping his promise

In the driveway, a car he's never seen and she doesn't drive
A lit window, snatches of songs echo dimly
Getting closer, he sees it all. Peals of laughter, piano duo. Another man

The heart-shaped tin clatters to his feet
And the carefully picked Rose of Winter, pink and white
Wilts in his trembling hand, turns to fragrant ashes

He stands there, in his shredded suit and gaping shoes
His bloated belly disgorges the rot of a whole year
The pain on his face is etched in pendent flesh

One gasping breath is enough to seize his heart, hardened to ice
Then one abysmal moan, like the skilled tap of a pick on a fault
And it shatters into fourteen parts

He kneels on the frozen ground, in the wind and the rain
Picks up the pieces of his heart, one at a time
And puts them back in the box

Two little boys run home from the lake without once looking back
They say there is a dead man with weeds for hair and glow-worms for eyes
Banging his head against the ice as if trying to get out

Originally posted by B.Morrison
Disappears till you’re old & returns in the winter,
To sing a song of moving beyond…
This 3D limited splinter.

I've been looking at this flawed poem on my computer on and off ever since I wrote it and finally having realised what i didn't like and rather than scrapping it entirely I've revised the last verse. I don't know if it's fair or not for me to be able to resubmit the corrected poem in the comp so consider this post just something I wanted to do to fix the poem and not part of the competition - I think the new version ends on a more positive note. The poem also has a name now -

Splinters.

Wake up its cold the alarm is screaming,
Hit snooze roll over & get back to dreaming,
Look back the wars cold the alarm bells are ringing,
Totalitarian corporate sponsored bluebirds are singing,

It's time to what? Who really knows?
The problems are vast - keep us all on our toes,
More than a joke to keep up as we choke,
More confusion than hope when the stock market froze,

So we fall for the lies in the frost paralysed,
A cold stare in our eyes our warm hearts are disguised,
And that person in time fragments deep and divides,
Into labels & versions, by others defined.

Don't hate the raven for the truth of his crime,
The message is harsh but he opens your mind,
there is always warmth beyond the winter,
always more then this limited splinter.

-B.M