Snowed Under

PoeticsSnowedInMantle’s too obvious

and blanket reeks of cheap vodka and sweat stains.

Sheet refers to black ice, the treachery of slipping.

So what word should I use

for wintry timing of our springs?

Each fresh puff of indignation

frays the quilt that dampens ardour.

This cloak and dagger business

has quenched my refrain far too long.

Are there shoots beneath the freezing?

Stones left unsplit from jaw-biting cold?

One thing I do know:

it’s not a comforter.


Join us for some wintry poetry – as literal or as metaphorical as you like – at dVerse Poets Pub tonight!



34 thoughts on “Snowed Under”

  1. You capture that pain of emotional/mental/psychical coldness so well here! And I like the way that you use the bleakness of winter to do it. This is elegant, Marina Sofia!

    1. You know the lamp under a bushel analogy never made that much intuitive sense to me as the snow covering and burying people, objects, houses, sometimes in an avalance, sometimes gradually… Maybe because I grew up in a snowy mountainous country.

  2. ah there is def new life already turning under there…getting ready for our spring…ironically the snow storm I talked about at dverse happened in spring…during spring break….we typically get more snow late season…I like the relations you make up front with the words we use and how they mean different things…like the vodka covered blanket…it gives it a bit of grit….

  3. mantle’s too obvious – yeah – it can spark hundreds of associations – always depending if we have to go out or stay in – if we have to shovel the driveway or just count snowflakes and dream…smiles

  4. Hahaha, glancing at the comments heading, I thought it read “Damn your thoughts!” Figure you became a hard ass over night. ABCB scheme is a duvet, you say? I kind of like the alternating rhyming. Love the thought of cold splitting stones, giving the winter a god-like power. Winter & I have never got along, it always got in my way; yet living in S. CA for a decade, I missed the definite seasons; go figure.

    1. Yes, I quite like my four seasos – although at times I have longed for perpetual summer. No, I make no claims about duvet… and the rhyming is accidental (rhythm and alliteration is more my thing) – but I’ll pretend it’s on purpose.

  5. I always think of the discomfort of plants and insects caught under a snow cover – like a frozen rub….

  6. cloak and dagger…not a comforter…but truly, there are tender things stirring, waiting to show themselves. On my flowering quince tree, there are tiny bits of red buds…on my plum trees are even smaller bits, but still there!

  7. My hope that there are shoots beneath the snow keeps me going through the winter, but you are so right, it’s not a comforter, it’s a cold wet blanket. Love what you did with this!

  8. Not a comforter and there is life stirring underneath that winter snow ~ I know how treachourous black ice can be and I avoid driving outside when that happens ~

  9. How clever to use our perpetual search for just the right word in this poem – I’ve enjoyed it very much Marina, and thanks again for an ace prompt.

  10. This really hit me…brought back some icy cold memories of my first marriage, so yeah….the metaphors were very effective. Thank goodness for those little buds that manage to grow under the ice.

  11. I sure HOPE there are shoots beneath the freezing. And I can hardly wait until this ‘blanket’ of snow melts away so we can see!

  12. Ah.. the cold hearted nature than can be snow and human heart.. when fulfillment of the senses washes in the snow of cold to flush out the warmth of heart…

    Why..why..why.. do humans move to snow..when all was warmth in the other geography without humansNOW….

    i don’t know.. but i knowsNOW…..

    To live in now without knowsNOW…..

    Can be a now without now….and hatingsNOW….;)

  13. You covered all aspects metaphorically very well here….and I love the word ‘ardour’…I could feel the cringing, the cruel cold toll it takes on us when we are not loved.

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