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Proxii Apr 2016
The words will not flow freely from me now,
Crushed by the weight of my world,
Things I have and have not done,  
Things I have to do...
Stop breath and wait for the flames to die down.
For the words to catch spark.
Crysta Gingras Apr 2016
The cold is no match
For the fire I have inside
For you it will burn
Only for you will it subside
For a heart of stone I have
Inside burning with flames
Only you can tame them
Only you can eliminate the pains
You being cold as ice
Will shatter the stone of my heart
Creating something new
Giving both a new start
For when I thaw your cold veins
And blood comes rushing through
Together we will be there
Together, just two
Fire and ice
Together to challenge
Whoever walks our way
With the fire in my eyes
And the ice in yours
Together, making quite the display
An angel of winter on one side
The other a fiery stray
I’ll keep you warm
You’ll keep me calm
Together, in this world of gray
Good morning to my angel
This is what we call a 'shadow poem' which is a poem in reply/compliment to a poem the other sent.
this was a Shadow Poem for her poem "Ice-Breaker" - btw her poems are better ;)
taia Apr 2016
we come to an end
both our hearts go down in flames
unable to love
Ysa Pa Apr 2016
A flare too risky to hold
A flame too hot for the coldest of the cold
A blaze unable to be glanced upon
A ludicrous conflagration
A spark too absurd to illuminate
A burn too dangerous to reciprocate
An ignited too deadly too recall
An incineration that ends all
An inflamed too painful to understand
An inferno too impossible to withstand
A meaningless and lifeless torch
A hopelessly cold and unfeeling scorch
Those are all the fires I knew
Then I encountered a fire that's true
I got too used to heat that I forgot
The difference between warmth and hot
You introduced a fiery fervor
I learned of a feverish ardor
Now that I have fallen in love so selfishly
To use your fire fueled by ardency
To warm up my heart that's burned and icy
Will you allow me?
~

In the warmth of the danger threshold,
flaming lover’s ink only gets magnified...
I really tried to behave myself but it's so painful!
Every inch of me yearns for you ardently,
naked from unthinkable fears soon or later we will be...
so stop doing that silly camouflage thing,
it swirls down my skin’s sanity!

~

© Christina Philipe
Ysa Pa Apr 2016
I never before flirted so willingly
With flames that burned so icily
My first 12w, forgive me because I can't come up with a title
Dear flaming and wild heart,
Flashes from our past, used to ease my pain.
Bitter sweet memories I treasured...
The privilege of being yours…
When in your arms I felt at home…
When our magic was so powerful…
Have we really lost it for eternity?
Your dried roses are bleeding.
You are here now but…
They still scream out for our story, for our flame.
Why do we have these vicious winds haunting us?
If you only knew how much I wish...
At least your heart is still beating...

© Christina Philipe
Poetic T Mar 2016
I tied you to the boot of this stolen car, what a pile
of rust but beggars cant be choosy, you do beg but I
chose this place specifically don't worry I tied you
to an old fords car door,  let the fun now begin.

I put the peddle to the metal, I hear you screaming in
anticipation of what happens next. Got to love speed
bumps, 30, 40, 60 then I brake just before swerving
so you sail past then you fly. Screaming all the way.

"I found ford doors have the right weight ratio to land
door side up Skoda's, Audi,

"No,
"The mess of so many to clean up road pastry is not the
easiest to clean away, slinters in my fingers hurt like hell ,


They fly through the air I see them just before some with
eyes closed fear etched on the sweat dripping or is that
tears? I put a three pronged circle to see where they finish
up. Each has a consequence, red, orange and green.

"You land in the outer dam, out comes the penalty stick,

Not many survive that, as I am angry for ill landings a lack
off at least trying, I warn them but some just cry till I give
them a good few whacks. I know silly but I do little sound
effects "bang, bang, splat, then silence and twitching

"Bang, "I hate those that just linger and twitch die already,

Now orange that's ok at least the next one tried, but not hard
enough,I give you a two pronged choice, gouge your sight out
with a spoon or a fork "what at least I'm giving them a choice,
now they scream but some got ***** it must be said.

Some do it, see no evil you know what I'm saying hanging tears
of claret weep from there now semi vacant sockets, and still
they try to blink "look at me, as their head rise, but their still
staring at the floor and I prune the with but two snips. Some
survive others just clutch to a chest and like that "DEAD,

Now those that survive, well lets just say I am a man of my
word I put them in the car to the safety I promise, I talk to
them but understandably their not in the talking mood,
I give them water to hydrate and replenish lost liquid that
has others wise bleed slowly out, and some even say "thank you,

Now what can I say luck, skill, survival instinct but so few have
done it, like a four leaf clover they land in the pastures of green.
I jump up and down like a child at the fair who just won the
big dinosaur on the very first try, punching the air and a very loud
"Hell ye that's what I'm talking about baby,
Then kiss um on the forehead, lips are to personal for my profession.

I tell them what skills what entertainment for some as twisted as it
seems liked what I did, a few even asked for double or nothing.
But luck only goes so far and then the regrettably the penalty stick
came out, I do the sign of L on my forehead then their silent once again.

But those who sighed with relief, as I promised were released, at the
end of a gun mind you a bottle of water given gratefully drank,
then on their merry way, I bid them fair well and as that they never
Divulge this incident as I have their wallets, purses even email
you never no maybe bored and recollect our good times past tense
of course for we all must face what is inevitable,

"Life is moments, where death is a breath that will always last,  

But as is death, freedom is a fleeting moment, and a mind changes
like the wind different direction, different path. Trial and error were
key, things that mattered "weight, height, ***, all factors in the
end result of what is like a momentary freedom to the air then
realization as they descend to a finite moment of death.

I always picked those that drove, why easier to cover tracks of
what was perused in my desires for a unique way to challenge
others need to survive. To breath another moment to exist in this
time of now not to pass. But life is fickle and my fun must last.

I always made sure that they drank the water, a necessity of
what came next ever drop drank, if denied then you guessed
it, penalty stick then "Dam, I do love my sound effects.
But released those with sight no knowledge of their ill fate.

Those I killed in the drivers seat pick a place where
gravity would take president in this delicate manoeuvre
so that they would go through what was needed a accident
of fatal consequence. Then on to the living that was next.


Like jack they rolled down the hill till unconscious they fell,
this little automobile swerving,  ricocheting off boundary and
wall till wheels graced air and the reeve of the engine heard.
A little gift of what was left in the boot a full tank of petrol
and the lid so loosely covered, accidents do happen.

I did one more thing I doubt they noticed there cigarette
lighter engineered to be so slightly hot, just like porridge
to hot would be seen and felt, to cold and would be a waste
of battery not enough, but warmth enough to ignite an
accident in the back and I firework of flames birth forth.

Some exploded they were the best, while others tumbled
flame and wreckage spread out what a mess. I always chose
the location, never the same suspicion would fall and my
fun would expire and probably my life snuffed out in a
breath. always cliffs near by and wall was best.

Now I bid you farewell as other circles must be drawn.
New doors must be had, who will hit the bulls-eye or
who will fail the test. I'll try two doors at once spice
up life's fun a little who will hit green and who will
be the one who twitches and then "Bang, silence is best.
Alina Arcadia Mar 2016
I watch a moth above an open fire.
It must be well known that moths use the stars to navigate home
that they may often mistake a streetlight or torch for one.
and as I watch it fly through the flames
again and again
burning away its paper wings
I wonder how easy it must be
to  mistake the scorching heat to the warmth of a star
to think that
maybe,
if you flew close enough,
theses flames might take you home.
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