May 2021
~Life looks like a white desert, a blaze of today in which nothing distinct can be made out, seen.
—Marvin Bell, "1. About the dead man", Gift of Tongues
Blaze
written May 2nd, 2021
I long to blaze
to be white hot fire
burning fiercely
without limit or restraint
take as kindling
all these collected seconds of tedium
the moments of curling into myself in pain
the flares of white hot passion
the kisses of comfort on the forehead
spark my soul
start the fire
watch me blaze so bright
you have to look away
wait until the coals cool
so you can sift through
the ashes that were me
looking for treasure
I am no longer there.
I have moved on and am
collecting the kindling
for the next
glorious
blaze.
—Marvin Bell, "1. About the dead man", Gift of Tongues
Blaze
written May 2nd, 2021
I long to blaze
to be white hot fire
burning fiercely
without limit or restraint
take as kindling
all these collected seconds of tedium
the moments of curling into myself in pain
the flares of white hot passion
the kisses of comfort on the forehead
spark my soul
start the fire
watch me blaze so bright
you have to look away
wait until the coals cool
so you can sift through
the ashes that were me
looking for treasure
I am no longer there.
I have moved on and am
collecting the kindling
for the next
glorious
blaze.
I hope this title wasn't a mistake. I know it means other things. The intent here, is a fire burning bright. I also love the word glorious! Maybe you can feel what the word blaze means to me in this poem, or maybe you'll feel what the word means to you. Thank you for reading me.
