We met when the icicles were just begging to form. I knew I loved you before they had even melted. That was the best winter of my life. I wish we could relive them moments we shared together.
Ciclo sin fin. Muerte y nacimiento. Luz y oscuridad. Sin sentido seguí por mi camino, con los pies descalzos. Con mi corazón descalzo y abrumado por la brisna de hielo que me golpeaba. Vete!
Vete!
Vete! -le grité, pero se mantuvo quieto. Me mantuvo callado como el cadáver que era, pero su recuerdo no se iba. No lo haría tan facil.
She stood, her fingers curled tightly into her fist, her cheeks growing colours. She looked back at her watch. She looked down the street. She watched as windows turned black and curtains of bedrooms drew together. Walking wasn’t an option, but tonight it had to be.
Caroline
My hands were icicles as you took them into yours. We walked in silence down the sidewalk, headlights blinding us.
everyone says, ‘i can’t wait until fall’ ugh! i have gotten to where i can’t stand fall and winter. never bothered me before but now…. :P from fall until spring i feel like an icicle…
Michaels
Das icicle ist ein bicicle, dem ein B fehlt und das ein i statt eines y hat. Ich weiß auch nicht genau, wie es geschrieben wird, aber ich glaube, es muss ein bicycle sein. Ja, vielleicht ist ein icicle auch etwas stachliges. Ein Igel. Oder so ein Massageball. Oder ein Zwergenkind.
This Icicle
a frozen pendulum.
It came from the dripping,
the slow leak
of were you caused my heart trama
and where you made me become
so cold.
Allison Hertzog
the icicle came plunging down. it strikes my leg. the pain was unbearable. i screamed, hoping someone would hear. i scream out once more. “how will i ever get help?” i wonder.
maryn
spilt the vein, rein the blood cells in, dim the lights, right the left, cleft the chin, ring the bell, sell the ice, price your heart, barter over daughters, brought to you in good faith as you leaned between the church and the pub
Dripping off the end, water filling up to become a drop. Icicle in the window. Winter long and cold; avision of blinging whiteness. I shiver just thinking about it’s arrival.
An icicle would be the perfect murder weapon. You would never need to hide it, it would never show your fingerprints, and if you were really thirsty by the end of your crime spree, you would have a built in water bottle. Seems practical to me.
No
You know what this word sounds like
ICIC bank
I see you
I see in the deep blue sea u see what i see?
I lick popcicles
how do u spell
OMG IM DUMFF
SOO DUMF
SO DUMF
Zainib
An icicle hangs from my roof top. It looks deadly. I think I won’t walk under it.
knighttime
icicle
I remember the taste of icicles. Do you? That dirty water taste? Not quite magical, and yet, somehow… it still was.
Noisy Quiet
Icicles fall like mad snowflakes, pierce your heart, splay open and drip melted to the floor. I lick them when young, and when under them twist around to exaggerate their potential, make their bases so big.
Ryan
trying to get back to my list of entries but can’t seem to find the one I just did using icicle as the prompt…there’s also another with my username, and sometimes their posts get mixed up with mine.
Andie
Icicles drip from the rooftops and freeze in place. The first snow of the season brings warm hats and woolen gloves. The scent of pines and the promise of Christmas is in the air.
somebody
Winter is coming very soon and that mean’s there will be a lot of icicles hanging from rooftops and threatening pedestrians when they walk past trees with over hanging chunks of ice. Winter is my least favorite season, I don’t do well with cold snow and ice, last winter I slipped and fell on my butt.
Eden
It rarely gets cold enough here for icicles to form. But I remember them well from my childhood in Central NY—glittering stalagmites hanging from my porch roof. I’d break one off to use as a magical sword, or a diamond unicorn horn.
Andie
The icicles hung down on the side of our house. It was s ign that we finally had a true Canadian winter. I was glad, winters without snow were tiring and lame, and we had all together too many of them on the west coast. The snowflakes fell all around. It smelled like winter. I hadn’t smelled the smell of winter in years. It’s funny how water can have a smell sometimes.
they are raindrops that freeze on the roof
and they sit in the sun and they melt
they hang and they sparkle like disco balls
Helen
“Stupid fricken icicle.”I said as I dabbed at the blood with a napkin.”Couldda put my eye out.” I tossed the used napkin in the trash and resumed m walk in the park.
Ali
don’t know what it means….
i wonder how could i..? i mean i live thousnds miles away from where a person is supposed to know that word so… that’s a great excuse…
i could also use google translator but
cinematic
I love eating icicles in winter. I know it’s gross and unsanitary and for all I know a squirrels peed on it and it’s now stuck to my tongue, but you know what, it’s fun. It’s one of those things that makes me remember I’m still a kid, no matter what I say to the contrary.
Youch!
What?
What WAS that?
You bumped against my foot under the table. Why? Why’d you yell like that?
I thought it was an icicle! Dang, girl. Put some sox on!
It’s an icicle. not the frozen kind that hang from peaks. The silver kind that granny always hung from her pink christmas tree. I think i smell the cookies burning.
3 berries
incidemment, les ombres
des temps… nos foire
l’innomé4 – berge de
tranchée. Et l’autre voix.
They hang from the corner of roofs, crystalised like little daggers formed in the icyest times of the winter season. Plucked by eager mitten clad hands, they serve as makeshift swords in a white adventure. Nature’s favorite playthings
sarah
Icicle on my bicycle because I’m too cool for fools.
cold, sharp, ready to kill. hanging in my heart. the cold shoulder has nothing on me. I had started to thaw, but your words made me freeze lethal.
Tim
Icicles taste sweet when you eat the ones growing from like, cut off tree branches, because the sap drips into them, and freezes. Mmmmm. I love winter. I love hot chocolate too. Um and I guess now I’m just writing random nothings.
Chloe
Icicles. They have so many uses. You can lick them. You can draw with them. You can stab someone with them, and the murder weapon melts away — no fingerprints.
Okay, that just got creepy. But extremely clever. (stores idea)
Sarah
the morning came quickly lighting the darkness one day at a time. and then when i could see there was snow, deep snow and hanging from the ledge an icicle calling dripping in timeless.
miss pie
The tip felt like it could pierce me. But as soon as I wrapped my lips around it, it melted. The cold was warmed by my tongue, and for a moment, I was sad. It would no longer be sharp. It was nothing now.
She was cold in a comical sort of way, shoulders hunched, shuffling, her words coming in ululating soprano pitch like a singer’s vibrato gone wrong, grinning nonetheless through aching teeth and steaming breath, laughing, hair caught under a knitted woollen cap in the Shenyang snow.
We met when the icicles were just begging to form. I knew I loved you before they had even melted. That was the best winter of my life. I wish we could relive them moments we shared together.
frozen.
It starts as a single drop of water. It freezes during the cold months. Drop by drop, it becomes an icicle hanging from a rooftop.
Ciclo sin fin. Muerte y nacimiento. Luz y oscuridad. Sin sentido seguí por mi camino, con los pies descalzos. Con mi corazón descalzo y abrumado por la brisna de hielo que me golpeaba. Vete!
Vete!
Vete! -le grité, pero se mantuvo quieto. Me mantuvo callado como el cadáver que era, pero su recuerdo no se iba. No lo haría tan facil.
I used to think you were an icicle melting a little when you saw me then freezing back up when I wasn’t around but I was wrong I was so very wrong
She stood, her fingers curled tightly into her fist, her cheeks growing colours. She looked back at her watch. She looked down the street. She watched as windows turned black and curtains of bedrooms drew together. Walking wasn’t an option, but tonight it had to be.
My hands were icicles as you took them into yours. We walked in silence down the sidewalk, headlights blinding us.
everyone says, ‘i can’t wait until fall’ ugh! i have gotten to where i can’t stand fall and winter. never bothered me before but now…. :P from fall until spring i feel like an icicle…
Das icicle ist ein bicicle, dem ein B fehlt und das ein i statt eines y hat. Ich weiß auch nicht genau, wie es geschrieben wird, aber ich glaube, es muss ein bicycle sein. Ja, vielleicht ist ein icicle auch etwas stachliges. Ein Igel. Oder so ein Massageball. Oder ein Zwergenkind.
This Icicle
a frozen pendulum.
It came from the dripping,
the slow leak
of were you caused my heart trama
and where you made me become
so cold.
the icicle came plunging down. it strikes my leg. the pain was unbearable. i screamed, hoping someone would hear. i scream out once more. “how will i ever get help?” i wonder.
spilt the vein, rein the blood cells in, dim the lights, right the left, cleft the chin, ring the bell, sell the ice, price your heart, barter over daughters, brought to you in good faith as you leaned between the church and the pub
Dripping off the end, water filling up to become a drop. Icicle in the window. Winter long and cold; avision of blinging whiteness. I shiver just thinking about it’s arrival.
An icicle would be the perfect murder weapon. You would never need to hide it, it would never show your fingerprints, and if you were really thirsty by the end of your crime spree, you would have a built in water bottle. Seems practical to me.
No
You know what this word sounds like
ICIC bank
I see you
I see in the deep blue sea u see what i see?
I lick popcicles
how do u spell
OMG IM DUMFF
SOO DUMF
SO DUMF
An icicle hangs from my roof top. It looks deadly. I think I won’t walk under it.
icicle
I remember the taste of icicles. Do you? That dirty water taste? Not quite magical, and yet, somehow… it still was.
Icicles fall like mad snowflakes, pierce your heart, splay open and drip melted to the floor. I lick them when young, and when under them twist around to exaggerate their potential, make their bases so big.
trying to get back to my list of entries but can’t seem to find the one I just did using icicle as the prompt…there’s also another with my username, and sometimes their posts get mixed up with mine.
Icicles drip from the rooftops and freeze in place. The first snow of the season brings warm hats and woolen gloves. The scent of pines and the promise of Christmas is in the air.
Winter is coming very soon and that mean’s there will be a lot of icicles hanging from rooftops and threatening pedestrians when they walk past trees with over hanging chunks of ice. Winter is my least favorite season, I don’t do well with cold snow and ice, last winter I slipped and fell on my butt.
It rarely gets cold enough here for icicles to form. But I remember them well from my childhood in Central NY—glittering stalagmites hanging from my porch roof. I’d break one off to use as a magical sword, or a diamond unicorn horn.
The icicles hung down on the side of our house. It was s ign that we finally had a true Canadian winter. I was glad, winters without snow were tiring and lame, and we had all together too many of them on the west coast. The snowflakes fell all around. It smelled like winter. I hadn’t smelled the smell of winter in years. It’s funny how water can have a smell sometimes.
what is an icicle?
they are raindrops that freeze on the roof
and they sit in the sun and they melt
they hang and they sparkle like disco balls
“Stupid fricken icicle.”I said as I dabbed at the blood with a napkin.”Couldda put my eye out.” I tossed the used napkin in the trash and resumed m walk in the park.
don’t know what it means….
i wonder how could i..? i mean i live thousnds miles away from where a person is supposed to know that word so… that’s a great excuse…
i could also use google translator but
I love eating icicles in winter. I know it’s gross and unsanitary and for all I know a squirrels peed on it and it’s now stuck to my tongue, but you know what, it’s fun. It’s one of those things that makes me remember I’m still a kid, no matter what I say to the contrary.
Icicle
Youch!
What?
What WAS that?
You bumped against my foot under the table. Why? Why’d you yell like that?
I thought it was an icicle! Dang, girl. Put some sox on!
It’s an icicle. not the frozen kind that hang from peaks. The silver kind that granny always hung from her pink christmas tree. I think i smell the cookies burning.
incidemment, les ombres
des temps… nos foire
l’innomé4 – berge de
tranchée. Et l’autre voix.
December morn
a dagger sharp icicle
hangs from the eaves
They hang from the corner of roofs, crystalised like little daggers formed in the icyest times of the winter season. Plucked by eager mitten clad hands, they serve as makeshift swords in a white adventure. Nature’s favorite playthings
Icicle on my bicycle because I’m too cool for fools.
cold, sharp, ready to kill. hanging in my heart. the cold shoulder has nothing on me. I had started to thaw, but your words made me freeze lethal.
Icicles taste sweet when you eat the ones growing from like, cut off tree branches, because the sap drips into them, and freezes. Mmmmm. I love winter. I love hot chocolate too. Um and I guess now I’m just writing random nothings.
Icicles. They have so many uses. You can lick them. You can draw with them. You can stab someone with them, and the murder weapon melts away — no fingerprints.
Okay, that just got creepy. But extremely clever. (stores idea)
the morning came quickly lighting the darkness one day at a time. and then when i could see there was snow, deep snow and hanging from the ledge an icicle calling dripping in timeless.
The tip felt like it could pierce me. But as soon as I wrapped my lips around it, it melted. The cold was warmed by my tongue, and for a moment, I was sad. It would no longer be sharp. It was nothing now.
She was cold in a comical sort of way, shoulders hunched, shuffling, her words coming in ululating soprano pitch like a singer’s vibrato gone wrong, grinning nonetheless through aching teeth and steaming breath, laughing, hair caught under a knitted woollen cap in the Shenyang snow.