#lighter
When a POET DIES,
There WORDS LIVE ON,
They KEEP US ENCOURAGED,
MOTIVATED and STRONG
There WORDS DO INSPIRE,
To LIFTING us HIGHER,
When your DOWN AND OUT,
THEY MAKE YOUR DAY BRIGHTER,
A PEP IN YOUR STEP,
you FEEL MUCH MORE LIGHTER,
When a POET DIES,
There WORDS they will STAY,
THEY'LL CONTINUE to INSPIRE US
to this VERY DAY!!!!
B.R.
DATE: 1/10/2024
Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 5:20 PM UTC
I once had a flame
Flickering inside of me
Warming my heart
But the flame was blown out
By cold lips
I am no longer warm
I am cold and numb
The dreary darkness consumes me
I grab a lighter
Frantically trying to bring it back
But there is no use
The light is gone
The warmth is gone
I have gone cold
Aug 29, 2024
Aug 29, 2024 at 2:42 PM UTC
Waxing philosophical on the porch
Beneath a string of neon lights
The lighter blinks on as the stars keep blinking out
Let's celebrate our waning nights
Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 5:41 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, songs can make us imagine too;]
backs of freckles
cheeks to knuckles
breathes of swallows
deep to shallows
wild of mellows
-------ravenfeels
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 8:31 PM UTC
We met many many years back
When the realisation hit that I may need you
I met you at home and the street but as a vision
When my mum constantly reminded me to get you home
I rebelled and didn’t want to
I met you in my tears
When someone wanted you
More than me,
I met you in disdain
When I saw many who had you
But strutted around in false pride.
And I didn’t want you.
And here you are,
Many moons later,
Wherein I rediscovered you.
It was never you, it was the picture I painted.
I am getting closer to you now
Fresh canvas,
Wispy and comforting,
Uplifting like a kite 🪁 in the sky,
You’re blooming,
You smell fresh as a 🌹.
You’re “getting lighter”,
And to me now it is not my weight in body,
But the heaviness in my heart and mind,
That I am getting lighter with.
And as I do, I find you so comforting,
You were always my friend,
I didn’t see you
As people and my heaviness painted you as an enemy,
You’re my angel
And I know you better,
Getting closer to you,
Whispy, floating and free.
I like you lightness,
You’re me now.
You so want to come closer to me,
Constantly trying to invade my mind,
Tentacle my thoughts and dreams.
But hey I get you,
I am going to set you free.
Because now you’re inside of me
And my journey in the here and now is to be.
You’re sweet and I get you,
But sweetness is one flavour,
And I like it spicy and tangy as well,
A tad bitter, some more there,
So I’ll just set you free.
Now, I am free,
Whispy and floating,
Pink and sparkly,
Becoming me...
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 12:25 PM UTC
I lay there in the field,
An unlit Marlboro in between my lips.
Gazing into the summer sky...
My breathing starts matching the lengthening shadows,
My pulse slows down to even out with the intermittent owl hoots,
The cicadas fade into the crickets, and the crickets play a lulab-
A sudden warmth hits my face,
The light of my lighter is shining back into my eyes.
Once the end is in embers, the lighter is pulled away.
I take a long drag and gaze into nothingness,
Once again wondering who lights my cigarette,
Because they always steal my lighter too.
Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 12:10 PM UTC
I don't want you to see my burning face.
I've trust it before
in someone's hands
but he was the one
who used the only lighter in the space.
There are no lighters with you.
Hope there is no other space.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 9:27 PM UTC
Our love, a match
You, a Marlboro evening
We share every warm sunset.
I'm not sure when we'll finally burn out but at least I'll have the ashes to prove that we really, really, did try.
You, a lighter, ignite my flame
let the sparks never die.
After all this time still wishing and wishing upon shooting stars for you
my one true love.
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 4:33 PM UTC
The world is such a dark place,
Even if you tried, you couldn't make it brighter.
So accept the fact that all that's left,
Is a pack of cigarettes and a yellow lighter.
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 3:32 PM UTC
And the lighter told me,
told me, coming closer to my ears,
whispering in a shrouded manner,
take me to my friend,
and clinch me to its under.
And when i raised my hands up,
crossing it through my fingers,
bringing the lighter close to his friend,
my hands shivering to their intruder....;
hearing my breath,
my eyelids falls in deep,
shutting it up not staring the fire lead,
as it ate up my own smell,
trespassing his friends redolence,
"INTRUDER" they are to me.
I melt,
my flesh falls away,
but anyways I'am the only perfect way,
to light up their friendship
and light up my scars,
to give them the ignition,
and i fell in them more and faaarrr.....
Far from the people,
who managed to keep me away from realm,
but i have this pair
to fill me with phlegm.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 7:00 AM UTC
when
it
comes
to
lighting smokes,
I gotta dig Bic
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 8:41 AM UTC
It is 12:43 in the morning.
I am envisioning lighting my face on fire.
Eyelashes drenched in kerosene, dripping down my chin, soaking my hair
Blink. Blink. Light.
I feel the scrape of the lighter under the pad of my thumb before my hair catches fire
face engulfed in flame, turned to blistered flesh in seconds.
People use the term “faceless” to describe someone they do not know the identity of.
For that reason, my appearance finally matches my lack of identity.
No pun intended.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
#
*Dear Journal,
The wheel turns on the black Bic lighter and conjures a restless spark,
thus igniting once sincere letters. In turn, arctic winds are evoked at dark.
Couple's ardor inspired prior to her departure abroad to Denmark.
Confederate embers scorch paper, but less so than this dolorous heart.
Blazing in solidarity on a barren porch; a pyre for finest silks torn apart.
With weeping wounds cauterized, the true healing now just starts.
Sincerely,
Rekindled*
#
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
Have you ever touched a flame?
I don't believe I have.
My body has burned
on coals and embers.
My fingers have scorched
on stovetops and lighters.
My hands have followed
sweet candles and incense.
And my eyes have danced
with the flickering dames.
But I ask you again,
if it isn't too much,
have you ever touched a flame?
Can a flame truly be touched?
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 10:21 PM UTC
my shoes are caked
with brown mud and
my arms have new burns.
getting high alone in the woods
is fine until the paranoia sets is
and the trees i love on lsd
become my hated enemies.
i find a book of matches on
the ground, twenty minutes
after my lighter died.
they are wet and do not light.
the cigarette between my lips
dangles there, before falling
into the mud i trudge through.
i use my own name in vain
and try to pretend that
losing my lucky isn’t unlucky.
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 10:37 PM UTC
It’s like I’m on fire.
A human torch, or rather, a lighter.
Flame shoots from my lips and fingertips.
Burning those around me to a crisp.
At first the flame is only warm,
Until it starts licking around the torn.
Growing brighter and heavier,
The flame forces all other senses into a dull blur.
Don’t help me,
You’re only providing more fuel.
You’re no savior, you’re just a fool.
I am Flame. I am Smoke.
The syllables i speak will burn and make you choke.
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
Eddies and curls
Swishes and swirls
From fingertips
Relief begins
To make its trip.
Hold the flame
To the tip
Butane leaked
In its slow drip
Fuels the flame
Lit by flint.
There it goes!
There it goes...
Above the chin
Under the nose
Between the lips
To stain the gums
Over the tongue
Into the lungs.
The cheeks, they flush
Feel the rush!
The heart beats fast
To clean the blood...
Clean the blood
Of toxic gas.
The heart, it stills,
The lungs, they slow.
Down the hill
The windpipe goes.
One last gasp
Of poison still,
And the brain dies last
To seal the deal.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
I think I have successfully found a way to avoid it all
Slamming my fist into the dashboard
The plastic cracks under my knuckles
I see your white lighter that fell
Years ago
rolling out from under the passenger’s seat
initials scratched in sharpie
I said when the tan line on my ring finger disappeared
I’d be over that stage of us
So I kept wearing rings on that finger
I see it in his eyes
The same loss that I felt
Creeping through me
As I claw for the delicate throws of normality
Fantasizing escaping
I wanted to break even
To orchestrate the great
Explain to the world
That I can hold fast
That I can find a sense of sanity that would last
All the while,
tying myself to the train tracks
I used to have this grip
I held it so tightly
promising myself that this mania
of prep meals
and daily runs
would sooth me
I said that the schedule is what will keep me
off the edge of the bridge
but it slipped under my head like a knife
followed me to bed nightly
singing the same trope of dependency
how they led me
I drank them in like their skin
was wine,
I sipped heavy gulps
and called them mine
leading down the same path
of sitting in the passengers seat of the car,
parked outside of our house
holding onto an old lovers lighter
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 1:43 PM UTC
And when she got cold
her fingers itched for a lighter.
To light every crevice she held ablaze,
to fend the dark away another day.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 5:04 AM UTC