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Carissa Lee Jun 19
So if I want to burn,
Let me burn!
I am throwing it all away!
All Away!
All the scraps you ever gave me,
all the empty promises you made,
I will set it all aflame,
watch me rise from the ashes!
Birthed by Brimstone,
Birthed by Fire!
I am a phoenix without a name!
Flying Fast!
Flying Blind!
A new town,
a brand new start!
I dare not look back
upon the wreckage of my wake.
What's My Name!
What's my name!
  what's my name?
Won't anyone say my name?
What's my name?
September Roses Sep 2019
Lightning playful through a poisoned bloodstream,
Veins on torturous, burning fire.
Whispers through my home, hauntings of the faux trauma and unresolved crucifix standing ready to bear.
Left unfulfilled by the crushing unrefusable statement of self sabotage.
The flaming star of the avatar, the nomadic extreme of the eternal hellscape that resides in my hunted stomach.
The predator and the prey, predetermined and praying.
Just another eternity until the monsoon departs, the season ended. From there the calm waves will carry me to shore.
The dark restful, kiln, I am your dough, as I am your clay, a grateful panettone.
Mold me, endow me the drug, the decree, the great recipe of relinquishment.
No Elysium, I denounce Gehenna,
I crave nothing but the sweet, serene, comatose clemency of unending hibernation.
Cold blooded sunbathing in the radiant rays of the great bird's wings.
The boiling embrace of his feathered fire.
The brutal, unrelenting, chaotic, climactic, adrenalitic pull into the hot murky depths.
Scald me, lash me, revive me in death.
For I can wait no longer.
Living in fear of the Reaper is worse than The Harvest its self.
So come unto me my lord, my peace,
And engulf me in the ******* rest of departure.
Pretty hot. Haha get it .a ha ha
Do your poems have to be
Read in a particular
I think
Mine definitely Carrie's
Different meanings depending on
J Nightingale Jul 2019
born from ashes
Risen from the flames
as the embers scorch within
we shall be reborn anew

as the flames cleansed us of our sins
we shall give life to hope
as despair extinguishes
joy shall rise once again.
From failure
New birth;
Out of ashes
We rise
Fists raised
Hope held
kiran goswami Dec 2018
She used to say
She was fire,
He became her Phoenix.
Harry Roberts Sep 2017
Tossed and tossed aside,
You held me - cast me away,
In the swell, lost in the sway.

Fate has a cutthroat way
And we are held in her say.
And she plays, while our price we pay.

She Calculates while in
Endeavours lust we are lost.
She sees while we disindergrate.

My hates only love I can't
I'm more than what was left
And I know more than what was

I'll just scream
And cry.

I won't die,
I'll fly.

I'll be more than what
Was left.
Life from ashes not left bereft.
Rising from the Ashes.
A poem about becoming stronger and working with Fate.
Ma Cherie Jul 2017
I know your voice
so true
it haunts me in the night
I see
as you see too
as we have the SAME
"eye" sight

I remember your touch so warm
even tho I've never felt it
I'm certain that if I touched you
my heart?
yes you would melt it

I wish that I could smell you
your sacred sweet and mine
I wish that I could touch you
and feel my heart-divine

our magical transcendence
is written in the stars
and instantly immediate
erasing all the scars

you will know me
well love
you've longed for my soul too
set up some g.p.s. babe
to find the "one" for you

eons an eons I have waited
I am screaming out your name
except I do not know it
and that is such a shame

just remember who I am now
close your eyes to see
find me with your heart love
to seal our destiny

hurry I am waiting
for you to come -arrive
I wonder every day here
how without you I'll survive
by boat or air just fly now
or get in your car an drive

my time
I will have to bide
but I will never tire
as you are all the fuel
I need to light my fire
you and I the phoenix
of two soulmates in desire.

Ma Cherie © 2017
Yup still waiting for my souls mate lol love you all hope this makes sense
Rianna Feb 2017
I fell,
Down, down, down
into the far reaches of my mind,
down into the abyss
I fell.
I will rise,
from the ashes of who I was,
from the inevitable
darkness that took over me.
Because I am a Phoenix.
I will rise.
I wrote rise so many times it looks wrong. Now I'm unsure if I spelled it right.
I've lost time counting headlights and lamplights and streetlights and stars. I've literally lost time. Each day I wake up, and watch the evening drift by in a sunset, I fall asleep and watch the moonlight sail away on a sunrise.

It was an empty promise, these lights all around. It was an empty promise, that buzzed with the current a few thousand volts. Lights...pale and broken bulbs bleeding gasses and lies. But I guess in the dishonesty of some idea so pure, I found the dream that Teslas lightning tipped fingers yearned for,

A quest of solid gold that conducted an orchestra of thunder. And so lights couldn't be a lie anymore,

They could only be a dream, a dream never fully realized so long as the frozen dead fingers of liars past held their grip. Edisons overgrown yellow tinged finger nails, piercing through the veil of misty electric sparks,

Yet here i am

The light bulb is over MY head now! And my brainstorm is an F4 hurricane, my bolts like guillotines for your greedy fingers!

Because this is the generation of new light, of new thunder and new mayhem.
Of illumination!

A new generation carrying torches, casting out our light bulbs and our lamp posts. Forcing fire into Mason jars and using flames like they were new again.

No no no

Not Mason jars. Pull those ******* light bulbs from the headlights and lamplights and streetlights, fill those ******* with gunpowder and unstable explosive mixtures and make stars, *******!

Make flames that burn brighter than Edison's unholy lies, that tear down the dome and bring the skies falling!

Watch everything we've built, watch corruption and lies and racism and false superiority come hissing out of the cracks, trying to save themselves from the building pressure,

Trying to claw their red boney fingers from the fire but they can't. Because they are the fire,

And we will all watch as they burn like they always wanted to. Their voices shining past all of the glory their burning visage may grant, their bodies becoming one with the chaos that is our country.

And then we will have nothing left but ashes. No more eagles. Only the right and left wings of a Phoenix,

Risen from our ash and tears, flying into the sky to become the sun...To shine like nothing ever seen by our eyes so used to a false light.

Because it's time we became the sun. It's time we chose a real light to follow, not a halogen tube spewing gas over sickly bodies. No more light bulbs to only last a few weeks. Were tired of artificial light...Tired of breathing oxygen made in a lab…

Maybe it's because we've lost so much time under buzzing broken bulbs, under boot heels and tyrannical ideation. We've lost so much time staring into TV lights and camera flashes that we've only been able to wait for someone real to step into frame...

We've lost so much time counting headlights and lamplights and streetlights and stars. Counting the minutes till a new hero appears...I'm ready to be the light.
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