As the Cold Dawns

As the drop in temperature is decreasing rapidly, this became an influence to put some poetry skills to the test. It showed me that anything can become an influence. Enjoy.

 

The Dawning Freeze

A blizzard slowly blows
from the chill of the far North.

The daunting cold bites onto dense clouds
And rides its way through the waves of the storm.

 The flakes are scattered across oceans and
white paper angels are torn and strewn

over fields ridden with specks of dandruff
and tease us with their icy pinch.

 The fiery hue of the leaves still glow
and will soon fall,

as the coldest winter of the century dawns.

Death By Ink. A Poem.

Death By Ink has become one of my first completed poems – it is completely open to interpretation. Enjoy.

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Like Birds that have flocked,
to a mind that is blocked,
they would nestle there,
like ink blots.

Blotted ink had stained his thoughts.
You wouldn’t think,
it was bottled ink,
that blocked out his kin.

But then there was that blocked sink.
An apartment like his one would think,
something had died –
Death by Ink.

To think with all this ink,
no mind can function,
with all this irritation,
ink has hurt his skin.

Blots and Dots.
Bottled ink pots.

He stole glances at the clock,
heard no tick but the occasional tock.
The Birds had conjured their flock,
to a mind doomed to be blocked.