too cold. too hard. it will kill me if i let it. but if I don’t… if i stay inside, and just watch it from the window… then it becomes beautiful. it is most beautiful as it melts drip drip drip drip, glistening, and parts of it slither down to the ground and somehow it makes a spring. somehow the grass beneath it grows. but i cannot forget. it is sharp. it is cold. and it will kill me if i let it.
Julienne
frozen on my heart.
shows how cold i have become.
but..it drips?
i thought i was so cold?
i am still so numb..
but i feel the mass of ice…shrink?
how could this be?
i…
thank you.
thank you for freeing me.
only the warmth from your heart could melt mine.
i will forever be in your debt.
This is freezing in me,
A burning replaced by the slow and sure sheerness of it all,
By ending this fire, I am covered in ice,
Taking one extreme and suffering for it,
To be so absolutely gone,
Or so irresolutely there,
Well that’s a death indeed.
Crispy crystal clutching the ceiling so tightly. Fleeting, fragile little work of art. Here for winter and gone when the warm winds spring from far lands.
Judy Smith
my grandaughter Icesis – we call her Icee or sis. Makes me think of cold winter mornings with frost on the windows and snow dripping off the roof.
The icicles were beautiful. I stared at them and pretended not to feel the burn in my fingers and toes. Winter is one of the most beautiful seasons of the year, but if you don’t respect it, you can become its victim all too easily. I knew the car needed gas, but I thought I could make it. Silly me.
She watched the winter deepen through the window. She never went out and touched it; she merely watched as the icicles on the eaves thickened.
bekkah
Ice hockey is on the TV and in the hearts of many. Ices. When formed in conjunction with gravity, ice resembles a weapon. It’s a reminder of the season….and I want to stab winter!
Look. I’m tired. I really don’t want to deal with right now and there is no frickin way I’m walking outside in this cold, I already feel like an icicle. You go fetch the darn thing yourself if you want it that bad. Not me. No way. No how!
She stood in the snow, her toes going numb. The lake was frozen solid. A glass sheet in the bleak New England winter. Reaching as high as she could, she tugged down an icicle from the leaning birch tree. And then she threw it as hard as she could and watched it glitter in the cold air, before it burst into a thousand chiming, fracturing, skittering shards on the pond mirror.
If you stake a vampire with an icicle it won’t melt, because the undead are colder than the alive. If you stake a human with an icicle, the icicle will melt before it makes it to the heart. (If you stake a human and the icicle does not melt, the human is unalive.) This is how you can tell vampires from humans from those who just don’t care about life.
Calliope
like an ice pop-
pop!-
and she giggles as he licks the frozen cherry juice
off the tip of her nose.
their pop!s
hang in the frigid winter air,
their warm exhales of laughter forming clouds above their heads;
cupid’s arrows in frozen ice pops,
icicles in disguise.
featherb
The icicle was pointed and dripping. Its cool soul slowly fell to the hard frozen earth. Meet its match maker.
With you, my world hangs in perfect balance, just like an icicle. As beautiful and pristine, cold and delicate, as the triangular cone of hardened water. With you, one tap could send me spiraling down. One tap. It may look like I am here to stay, but I will break with the lightest tremor, and shatter into pieces in the darkness below.
Anonymous
I’m frozen, numb. I don’t move, but I get colder and more distant by the moments. People are starting to forget me, they’re forgetting to reach out to me because the ice is getting slipperier by the minute and it’s safer to simply stay inside. But sometimes, we have to risk the fall.
It left as suddenly as it had came, with the swiftness and ferocity of any other disaster. Power lines sagged to the snow-littered ground, others lay haphazardly across the road. Daddy looks worried. I don’t want to ask what’s wrong – Daddy’s aren’t supposed to scared of anything. I ask him if the snow means Santa is coming. He smiles, shanking his head as he picks me up into his arms, “No, sweetie. Santa doesn’t come another month.”
Icicle. i just wrote about this word but ok. i don’t mind. being repetitive is a part of life, like deju va. i really don’t know how to spell that word.
Jasmine H
cold wet my dog eating snow. snow ball fights. people being impaled. sledging down hill. broken legs. wet faces. cold hands. cold noses. laughter. yellow. creeks in back. tree forts. owls.
Jasmine H
Don’t stand underneath- it will be the death of you. Sliding, sliding. Sharp and dangerous. Broken.
I remember my sister and I would go and try to get the icicles hanging from our building. I always ate them like popsicles. But my sister would always tell me how dirty they were from the dirt and from chemicals. I didn’t care. I ate them anyway. I always enjoy a good icicle every winter :)
The sharp form of solidified water. Hangs from the ceiling of the black abyss of some caves, they melt and refresh the ground, cleansing everything.
KaiyaP5
What if you looked up and one of those icicles just happened to break off at the very same time? That icicle would be the last thing you saw, that’s for sure. At least out of the eye right below the icicle.
Okay for the first time I realise i don’t know what icicle means.
So let me write what I think is the meaning, which is an ice that is hanging from somewhere high like a cave or something like that.
Well since I don’t know what icicle truly and hundred percently means, please respond to my one word ‘essay’.
And one more thing if Icicle really means what I think it means then maybe I should make like a sentence or something like that.
So here goes nothing.
Wait a minute now I realise I have just made almost a whole paragraph with the topic Icicle which I don’t know the meaning of.
Nice, now I don’t have to think of witty things to write.
Icicles are so beautiful. To see the light shattered by clear, frozen water is indescribable. To see rainbows in the curves and breaks of the glass, it’s like seeing someone so beautiful you wish to cry. Once, when I was little, I was working for my dad and I went outside and went to pull down this truly beautiful icicle, and a huge sheet of ice a foot long and half as thick fell down on top of my head with the icicle. I ate the icicle.
I enjoy icicles, the icicle is the perfect weapon, it will melt all evidence away. I remember when I was little I licked an icicle and it stuck to my tongue, scariest moment of my life up to that point. Icicles are really yummy, ya know even though they are made out of acid rain. Hahah. Icicles, why don’t people use those as the snowman’s nose? It would work better!
frigid scenarios in a valley known as happy,
where one cold heart forcibly plummeted his
sub-zero dagger past the warm skin of tender youth.
sandusky’s black sun has set, allow a new dawn’s reprise!
cold. wet. perfect murder weapon. snowmen. january. cold and ickiness. but also sparkles and holidays. good/positive.
Jazz
snow, snow, come already
waiting for the winter lude to begin its wonders…
sharp ice dripping down
you’d think i’d be a cool hearted soul
but its wonderful; those lone crystals
shimmering from what was
in places like the bottom of the window sill
a place i wish you would come
i shall wait in anticipation,
for that wide grin
when you and i see the white house tops
without any sin
The icicle glistened delicately as Sproh felt the winds of Menagnog on the stream of Emanuil. etc.
Antsandpants
the long icicles hanging on the outside of the house were the first things that greeted her. she hadn’t been home in a few christmases, so much had happened. she was no longer the young girl who left.
too cold. too hard. it will kill me if i let it. but if I don’t… if i stay inside, and just watch it from the window… then it becomes beautiful. it is most beautiful as it melts drip drip drip drip, glistening, and parts of it slither down to the ground and somehow it makes a spring. somehow the grass beneath it grows. but i cannot forget. it is sharp. it is cold. and it will kill me if i let it.
frozen on my heart.
shows how cold i have become.
but..it drips?
i thought i was so cold?
i am still so numb..
but i feel the mass of ice…shrink?
how could this be?
i…
thank you.
thank you for freeing me.
only the warmth from your heart could melt mine.
i will forever be in your debt.
drip drop falls the water, swish in comes the cold, how quickly the icicle forms.
This is freezing in me,
A burning replaced by the slow and sure sheerness of it all,
By ending this fire, I am covered in ice,
Taking one extreme and suffering for it,
To be so absolutely gone,
Or so irresolutely there,
Well that’s a death indeed.
“popcicles, icicles”
this song is all about what your boyfriend loves.
but man, what a song.
Crispy crystal clutching the ceiling so tightly. Fleeting, fragile little work of art. Here for winter and gone when the warm winds spring from far lands.
my grandaughter Icesis – we call her Icee or sis. Makes me think of cold winter mornings with frost on the windows and snow dripping off the roof.
Frozen for eternity: Me.
The icicles were beautiful. I stared at them and pretended not to feel the burn in my fingers and toes. Winter is one of the most beautiful seasons of the year, but if you don’t respect it, you can become its victim all too easily. I knew the car needed gas, but I thought I could make it. Silly me.
She watched the winter deepen through the window. She never went out and touched it; she merely watched as the icicles on the eaves thickened.
Ice hockey is on the TV and in the hearts of many. Ices. When formed in conjunction with gravity, ice resembles a weapon. It’s a reminder of the season….and I want to stab winter!
Look. I’m tired. I really don’t want to deal with right now and there is no frickin way I’m walking outside in this cold, I already feel like an icicle. You go fetch the darn thing yourself if you want it that bad. Not me. No way. No how!
The icicles began to melt and so did my heart.
“I picked this for you.” he said, as he snapped an icicle off my car.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked up at his incorrigible smile and snow flecked hair and thought “I could get used to this kid.”
The icicles began to melt and so did my heart.
“I picked this for you.” he said, as he snapped an icicle off my car.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked up at him with incorrigible smile and his snow flecked hair and thought “I could get used to this kid.”
She stood in the snow, her toes going numb. The lake was frozen solid. A glass sheet in the bleak New England winter. Reaching as high as she could, she tugged down an icicle from the leaning birch tree. And then she threw it as hard as she could and watched it glitter in the cold air, before it burst into a thousand chiming, fracturing, skittering shards on the pond mirror.
If you stake a vampire with an icicle it won’t melt, because the undead are colder than the alive. If you stake a human with an icicle, the icicle will melt before it makes it to the heart. (If you stake a human and the icicle does not melt, the human is unalive.) This is how you can tell vampires from humans from those who just don’t care about life.
like an ice pop-
pop!-
and she giggles as he licks the frozen cherry juice
off the tip of her nose.
their pop!s
hang in the frigid winter air,
their warm exhales of laughter forming clouds above their heads;
cupid’s arrows in frozen ice pops,
icicles in disguise.
The icicle was pointed and dripping. Its cool soul slowly fell to the hard frozen earth. Meet its match maker.
With you, my world hangs in perfect balance, just like an icicle. As beautiful and pristine, cold and delicate, as the triangular cone of hardened water. With you, one tap could send me spiraling down. One tap. It may look like I am here to stay, but I will break with the lightest tremor, and shatter into pieces in the darkness below.
I’m frozen, numb. I don’t move, but I get colder and more distant by the moments. People are starting to forget me, they’re forgetting to reach out to me because the ice is getting slipperier by the minute and it’s safer to simply stay inside. But sometimes, we have to risk the fall.
It left as suddenly as it had came, with the swiftness and ferocity of any other disaster. Power lines sagged to the snow-littered ground, others lay haphazardly across the road. Daddy looks worried. I don’t want to ask what’s wrong – Daddy’s aren’t supposed to scared of anything. I ask him if the snow means Santa is coming. He smiles, shanking his head as he picks me up into his arms, “No, sweetie. Santa doesn’t come another month.”
The only time I’ve seen an icicle is in my freezer. I live in the Australian country. We don’t even know what snow looks like.
Icicle. i just wrote about this word but ok. i don’t mind. being repetitive is a part of life, like deju va. i really don’t know how to spell that word.
cold wet my dog eating snow. snow ball fights. people being impaled. sledging down hill. broken legs. wet faces. cold hands. cold noses. laughter. yellow. creeks in back. tree forts. owls.
Don’t stand underneath- it will be the death of you. Sliding, sliding. Sharp and dangerous. Broken.
i like icicles that double as swords, but do not really kill people, they just freeze your fingers off, and break before you can do any real damage.
I’ll snatch you from the ice box
I’ll put you on my tongue
I’ll want you get stuck
And curse out a lung
The pain is unbearable
A band-aid won’t fix
I’m afraid I’ll rip my tongue out
But then again, I’m only six
Icicles dropping,
Dripping,
Drowning out the silence
With the sound of their
Crashing,
Crushing,
Crippling my hopes.
I remember my sister and I would go and try to get the icicles hanging from our building. I always ate them like popsicles. But my sister would always tell me how dirty they were from the dirt and from chemicals. I didn’t care. I ate them anyway. I always enjoy a good icicle every winter :)
The sharp form of solidified water. Hangs from the ceiling of the black abyss of some caves, they melt and refresh the ground, cleansing everything.
What if you looked up and one of those icicles just happened to break off at the very same time? That icicle would be the last thing you saw, that’s for sure. At least out of the eye right below the icicle.
Okay for the first time I realise i don’t know what icicle means.
So let me write what I think is the meaning, which is an ice that is hanging from somewhere high like a cave or something like that.
Well since I don’t know what icicle truly and hundred percently means, please respond to my one word ‘essay’.
And one more thing if Icicle really means what I think it means then maybe I should make like a sentence or something like that.
So here goes nothing.
Wait a minute now I realise I have just made almost a whole paragraph with the topic Icicle which I don’t know the meaning of.
Nice, now I don’t have to think of witty things to write.
Icicles are so beautiful. To see the light shattered by clear, frozen water is indescribable. To see rainbows in the curves and breaks of the glass, it’s like seeing someone so beautiful you wish to cry. Once, when I was little, I was working for my dad and I went outside and went to pull down this truly beautiful icicle, and a huge sheet of ice a foot long and half as thick fell down on top of my head with the icicle. I ate the icicle.
It was like an icicle through the heart- deadly, sharp, and leaig no evidence. It stung, it burned somehow, and it hocked you through and through.
I enjoy icicles, the icicle is the perfect weapon, it will melt all evidence away. I remember when I was little I licked an icicle and it stuck to my tongue, scariest moment of my life up to that point. Icicles are really yummy, ya know even though they are made out of acid rain. Hahah. Icicles, why don’t people use those as the snowman’s nose? It would work better!
frigid scenarios in a valley known as happy,
where one cold heart forcibly plummeted his
sub-zero dagger past the warm skin of tender youth.
sandusky’s black sun has set, allow a new dawn’s reprise!
cold. wet. perfect murder weapon. snowmen. january. cold and ickiness. but also sparkles and holidays. good/positive.
snow, snow, come already
waiting for the winter lude to begin its wonders…
sharp ice dripping down
you’d think i’d be a cool hearted soul
but its wonderful; those lone crystals
shimmering from what was
in places like the bottom of the window sill
a place i wish you would come
i shall wait in anticipation,
for that wide grin
when you and i see the white house tops
without any sin
i’d like to ride my icicle!
I’d like to ride my ike.
Cold pointy rod.
.yay.
Or:
The icicle glistened delicately as Sproh felt the winds of Menagnog on the stream of Emanuil. etc.
the long icicles hanging on the outside of the house were the first things that greeted her. she hadn’t been home in a few christmases, so much had happened. she was no longer the young girl who left.