Endless stringing fumes, pitter patter of a fruitless place. Fed by the doubts, in fear from shouts. Discovering all your pretty hue's, does this heart share the same face
                     Treat my flaming heart that burns and churns for more passion, cut it to pieces and make it whole, because it's all
                              getting too dull
Devour me
Discover me
Swallow it all
Show me it all
                  Sing a song to my heart
                    Sing a song to my soul
                      Dance with my flame
                      Dance with my name
Just don't let my fire falter
Keep it growing
      Keep my flaming heart for me, I don't need it back just yet dear

Bruised and battered egos:
Retaliations –
Flaming tornadoes spiral up to stormy skies.
Mixed metaphors of caviar and custard
Maelstrom mightily around the mountains of Hell.

Trolling is appalling
And flaming burns.

Let go of that ego
Is my advice.

Be humble from the start.
No-one is great enough
To be beyond reproach
Or criticism.

Who cares how good or otherwise I am?
Who cares what anyone says
About my work?

I am what I am,
End of story.
To Describe what I am is fine:
See those metres, verses, rhymes
And metaphors.
Dismantle me if you wish,
But (please) put me back together.

No-one should stand in judgement,
Except maybe God,
With His bright wide wings.

So stop the abuse,
And sourceless insults.
Cease the condemnation,
Or stand to be IGNORED.

Paul Butters

The trick with flaming hot Cheetos
Is to eat all that you want 
Before you drink any water.

If you eat some, and then drink,
And then eat some more,
Your stomach will be an ocean 

With breakers crashing to and fro
On the banks of your inner shores.
It will not feel nice, so make sure

To follow this advice; for I am, when
It comes to Cheetos, an old man who
Has for learned from my many years 

Of eating one way, and eating the other.
And I have found the better of the two,
So heed my authority.

I watched you
as you walked down
that cool, grey
sidewalk

flaming lips
clung to your
cool, dark
skin

chewing your pencil
between your
slightly hereditary yellow
teeth

And that one
chipped tooth
that i gave you
when we were seven  

I watched myself
put my cigarette down
because suddenly
I wanted to have lungs

I wanted to have lungs
so i could breathe
your sweet and pure
air

At that moment
you became the succulent poison apple
the 1000 calorie ice cream cone
the guilty pleasure

my saccharine escape
from this cancerous world