Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I am the fire,
I burn into light, I burn in darkness.
Transforms into any shape, lit into any structure.
Heat and Burn anything, everything, even ashes to ashes.

I am the water
I flow into anything,
Fill the empty spaces,
Make whirlpool and create a current of my own.
Push and pull anything to anywhere.

I am the air blow soft and hard
I blow softly to comfort your skin
Sometimes harsh in storm to break bones.
I am the air, who flows in every heart.
If I leave you will suffocate and die.

I am the sky,
I am everywhere
In and out of the canvas,
Clouds and birds fly in my lap.
I am far and wide expand no one can reach, nobody can explore.

I am the land
You stand on me.
You plant, live, sleep, die and mix on me.
You grow and survive on me.
I am everything in every situation, anything in any form of nature.
I am the fire is one of the inspiring poem of the author
Jonathan Moya Oct 15
Long the land watches for death or harvest
amongst the lulling black mounds
a slumber in piles,
huddled so neatly
without blankets
from the shivering wind blowing meanly
under the sway of the killing night’s climb.

Underneath are all bones,
life clutching the long tilled soil,
the farmer’s harlot oft despoiled,
denied wages, seeds scattered, an ever
cursing field,
demanding her coin,
the child
torn, sold from her womb.
Norman Crane Oct 9
I hold the tool. I am the blade. I drive
myself into the fertile ground. I dig
potatoes out. They were buried alive,
but in darkness they thrive. Now the old pig
will feast. When he grows fat I will slay him
to feed me and kin. I don't like killing
but when necessary it's not a sin.
I shall live another year, God willing.
I have long been on the land. I am old
but my sun is not yet setting in the
sky. When I was a child I was told once by
my father you become earth when you die.
If so, I hope my children carve my chest
with blade. I hope I'll yield a fruitful harvest.
Sydney Oct 6
There was a land

Filled with sand

It was grand

Whoever went to see

Got lost at sea

And came back in a heap

But a girl did see

The land at sea

And collapsed on the land with a heap

The girl laid on the sand

Sand in her hand

And said “This land is grand.”
Sydney ©2020
Sydney Oct 4
There was a land

Not bland

But very grand

Flowers bloomed from every corner

A beautiful sight

And everywhere you found no mourners

The sun shines fairly bright

The weather was perfect to fly a kite

Everywhere beautiful birds took flight

So beautiful were the plants

But at first you would give them a small glance

Then they’d put you in a trance

Animals chittering all around

Upon their face there wasn’t a frown

Happy, chatting, chittering sound

The land was always peaceful there

And the weather was always fair

With non-violent bears

And there are some perks or two

The sky was always a deep sky blue

With growing bamboo

But that, my friend, is not all

It is never a cold fall

But i do not want to drawl and drawl

So goodbye, farewell

I hear a bell

That says, “It’s time for the wishing well.”
Sydney ©2020
Shane Leigh Sep 30
These are the rolling hills,
the clashing tides,
the undiscovered,
the mysterious.
These are the whispering winds,
the dew drops,
the peace, and pride.
These are the fires forging
fierce peoples
inhabiting this land.
Here is the land of fierce beasts.
Here be the land of dragons.
Enjoy (:
© Shane Leigh
You were my guiding star
You were my Pole Star
The moment I lost you
I lost my mind
The world was topsy turvy
The water was flowing up
The flames were going down
Were I hallucinating?
Were I hallucinating?
You were my guiding star
You were my Pole Star
You turned into Ashes, Ashes
It's all Ashes, Ashes
On the bank of Holy Ganga I stood
Immersing your Ashes, Ashes
You were my guiding star
You were my Pole Star
It's a rainy season
The sky is over cast
Cloud burst will erode the  mountains
Bringing alluvium down
Making lands fertile
How does it matter to me?
My world will remain sterile
You were my guiding star
You were my Pole Star
Millions stars circle around me
Day n Night, Day n Night
The Pole Star stays unmoved
Right upwards
Like you stay unmoved
In my mind
You were my guiding star
You were my Pole Star
You turned into Ashes, Ashes
One day everyone turns into Ashes, Ashes
bloodKl0tz Sep 2
Instead of the joy of coming into a port and stepping onto land, land
That is familiar and loving
In love
With having my feet home again
The earth below rejoicing
After so many months at sea

I am instead adrift.  There is unbroken horizon
Spread out vast all around me
My eyes ache in my head from only seeing the sun, only seeing
The flat blue waves

I am so ANGRY that I am unloved I am so ADRIFT without my home port
I call out and the wind pretends to be an answer
All I want is to be longed for
For someone to pace
For someone to watch the sea

Instead, two separate lives, one at sea, one at home.
kiran goswami Aug 15
I walked down the snow-covered land.
It was windy but I could not breathe.

As I walked, the snow under my feet whispered,
'there are lovers more in love than about who Shakespeare wrote,
but such stories once heard get stuck in the throat'.

So, there I lay down on the snow,
the snow felt warm.
It narrated the story of a man and a land.
How the land love the man and the man loved the land.

The man's love was the one that would last forever.
It was not the kind that would sink into your heart
but float right through it so your waves long for more.

The man loved so much that,
the cold snow on the land made the man's blood boil
and the land stayed warm.
The land loved the man so much that,
her rocks became his stage
and he acted his last act with love.

The man love the land and so much that,
his breath made her tricolour hair fly.
The land loved the man so much that,
her shrieks turned him into an artist
and he painted it all red.

The man loved the land so much that,
his blood left his body to embrace her
just the way Bhagirathi descended on mother Earth.
The land loved the man so much that,
she embraced him tight under her snow blanket to protect him.

The man loved the land so much that
his body lay on the land
while their stories loved each other.
The land loved the man so much that
she let the man lie on her
while she was crushed under all the weight she held.

His body was still holding the land,
the snow was still red.

The man loved the land so much that he died for her.
The land loved the land so much that she lived for him.
Next page