Yozhik 2d

Each flicker of the heart
        Is one less before death
Each time you exhale--
        One less living breath
Potential becomes reality
        The candle drips in flame
And though it burns the bloodshot eyes
        They are both the same

Each flicker

    Each breath

Running wax the candlestick
Feet flailing forward, fleeing fast
Flickers bicker tock and tick
Drip drip down the candlestick,
Running down the sheer sides, slick
With the immolating wick
to fire

Running from the past
So sprinting towards the future
Running through the blur of now
Running out of time

Out of breath
Out of flickers
Hear is

Eric Pon Apr 9

Lying in thick dark
the candle we made glows warm,
burns away my time.

traditional haiku
Penthesilea Mar 30

There's this spark, a gentle flame,
a candle of hope warming my inside
with the thought of you returning home.

Presumptuous I am indeed, to consider myself a home for him.
JAC Mar 20

Like a candle in a hurricane
We flickered out in the wind
And anyone who saw us burning
Thought it must have just been
A little trick of the light.

Druzzayne Rika Mar 10

The stormy night
The lights are out
Enjoying the candle light
Alone in my flat
Watching the rain torrent
Heavy Sound of water
Touching the ground
And a hot cup of tea
Makes a perfect mood
to leave my thoughts behind
and write something
with pen and paper
in yellow light

Anwaar Mar 1

In the bathing
of candle lights
the burden has
dawned upon I

The breathing
of my existence
to reunite with
my fellow sisters

She had a name
I called her
with.

the burden of living

A Valentine's Card dressed
With Steve Buscemi's face,
tattooed on the inside
with once-true truths.
Flammable.

A severed chunk of
35 mm film,
cut in a rhombus,
or trapeze or whatever,
highly flammable.

A piece of cloth
I brought with me,
And the part of
the belt I had to cut
off so it would fit
my skinny ass.
Flammable, slightly.

A dead and dried up leaf,
Impaled on the bulletin board,
From a tree I don't even know what,
That sometimes crinkles with the wind,
If she were alive still,
She would comment on the
Cold thumbtack spear
In her abdomen, and
Sniff at the sweet,
Artificial Vanilla waves below.

I keep my wall of
flammable memories
Above a lit candle,
Every day, I wish the flames
Would reach a little higher, but
Every day, the wax sinks,
low, low, lower still.

Snootchie Bootchies
Eure Ka Feb 20

To sleep with the window open
and with the door unlocked
the flame draws me away from my body
to go on forage in the forest light.

Mark Parker Feb 11

Raise up the fever,
the fire's fuel gives notice.
Evoke the blast furnace,
stoke the firebox.

Florescent lamps aglow,
ignite the livid beacon.
Absorb the flashing candle,
spark the inner light.

Calling on the muse. Of course the poetry is just a plea to the universe to help me find inspiration in life. Life is without good meaning right now.
Trinity Jones Jan 31

two rather large glasses down,
one heart crumbled the other thriving.
Leave the shattered pieces on the ground
find the light
find the happiness and the warmth
that linger within
after layer after layer of singed love.
a fire that was lit and never put out
burned me to my core
leaving no light
no happiness within
no warmth for me to bathe and bask in.

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