After opening the storm door with a turn of my wrist,
my face was punched by a frozen fist.
Leaving my home to meet Decem-burr's air.
God would be cold, if a god were really there.
But I continue along my icy path,
determined to travel in spite of winters wrath.
I see an old friend, but I am too cold to say hi.
The wind hits my face and tears form in my eye.
Brandon sees me and smiles, and I don't know how,
and pulls his hat away from his brow.
I laugh at his folly, but he keeps at it,
He takes off his trousers like a bad habit,
His balls are dangling there in the sub-zero,
But whether the weather, this boy is my hero.
A contest entry
- 12 hour Winter Quickie by poet2angels.
475 points, ended December 9, 2007, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Dirty Pretty Contest by Innocent Evil.
700 points, ended January 5, 2008, 35 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Things we lost in the fire... by Jai Guru Deva.
500 points, ended January 26, 2008, 85 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Contest for many types of poems, Prewrites allowed. by Systems Malfunction.
500 points, ended January 30, 2008, 46 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
I liked this a lot. Good job and good luck.
-
Very clever...
The end was adorable...
Imagery is awesome..
TY for entering
Lynda
Adding your comment:
