Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
jonni inferno Apr 2018
i am
racing to catch a falling star
ablaze in golden splendor
entangled in glorious shimmers
caressed in her luminous waves
a glimmering gleam of suggestion
aglow in the glint of a ray
embracing her glittering virtue
in the light of a failing day



pic poem
http://oi61.tinypic.com/25yy893.jpg
September Roses May 2018
Once we were on fire
Young    rebeliouse   free
We stormed the castles and took to the skies we flew we dreamed
We were ablaze our light setting raging screaming fire to the world around us
When our thoughts could not sit in silence any longer
When the kids were engulfed by a wave of fury of the injustice done by this world before we were even here
We screamed and demanded
OUR VOICES WOULD BE HEARD
But now it rains
Now the cold heavy water blankets the restless
The fire has been drenched in worry and stress
The brutal downpour has distracted all with false life or death
The blaze once 100 feet high now nothing but a charred soul

And all the ones put out by the rain
to tired to fight again,
pray on the generation next
That their fire is enough to best the storm
L B Jul 2018
An early evening gust
broke the back of the day's blaze
Still 90 degrees at eight
in orange haze
Sweat runs down my neck
Through the gorge between my *******
The wind lifts my linen shirt
runs its hands along my sides
reviving memory
of Forest Park
of a blanket in the grass

Where the pines trace
so many faces
Crackling popping kids
stolen matches, running
screaming victorious!
Blowing tin cans up with fire crackers
Bicycles, sparklers, fireworks at dusk
That whole afternoon
I spent hammering caps

Noise really makes us kids
really
especially
annoying

Mom wants us out!
Gone! All of us!
No needs. No excuses!
No cookies! No slices of bologna!
“No more Kool Aid!
Out now!
Out!”

That evening I tried
to dismiss the itchy sweat
of stupid-sister-Suzy-matching-sun-suits
at Gino's family picnic
When some kid
(I don't know?)
between the rigatoni and the sweet corn
Some kid
tosses a sparkler
into box of fireworks
I don't know?
whether to cry or laugh
I was pretty scared
Rockets going off across the lawn
and onto porch
Craze of colors through the trees
Some at eye-level horror!
But the sight of Aunt Nedda
diving under picnic table
Stockings, garter belt upended
Capsized beyond her caring
of uplifted dress

Some images just stay with you, ya know?

July 4th always lands for me
on a firework's ***
"Caps"  are little red rolls of gunpowder dots, originally made to give a snap to toy guns of the 1950s.  We figured out that by layering them and using a hammer, you could get a bigger crack.
Gerry James Aug 2018
I just sit and gaze,
And watch my walls burn in a blaze,
As I become captive to her eyes,
I see my darkest dreams

But I take a glance
In thought that I have a fleeting chance
Of escaping from her,
Not yet, it seems.

I fall to my knees
And I utter my pleas,
But she just smiles,
In the darkness, her smile gleams.

My demons scream and yell,
But it's no use,
Coz I’m under her spell.
This is crazy man what's going on? I ain't ever felt this way before
Cné Jan 2017
Deep love within the heart
Ignite luscious flames aglow.
Spreads vast with just a spark,
Desires down below.

Keenly tantalizing,
Flawless colors and hue;
Unbridle free flying,
Loose reign while dreams come true.

Spreads rapidly, bright blaze,
Gold lighting of hope
Alive, aware, un hypnotize,
Curious Kaliedoscope.

A journey to enjoy
Burning fire devour
Life's burdensome's toy;
Amid a horse named Wildfire.
My artist's statement I wrote for an acrylic painting I painted of a horse.
Kitt Sep 2018
Her hair.
It falls in waves around her
Like a cloud of romanticization-
I inhale in anticipation.

Her eyes.
They blaze right through me
Like coals on a hearth in a home-
I am warmer; I feel less alone.

O' blessed fever, I hope you never break
O' blessed decision, I thank thee for this mistake
But in every way she moves I feel-
Only a longing, sinful, consuming desire.
"Shampoo" refers to the poetic form invented by Judson Merrill for a writing class in 2018. This poem is a practice of that form.
Mark Parker May 2015
Love at first sight is but an arrow away.
If Cupid's bow would fire,
maybe this dead man's pyre
would be simple wood for a blaze.

Turn off the lights, and say what you see.
I hope it's love for life and a gentle plea
to hold on to whats right in front of you,
because you don't know what you have til its gone.

I hope nothing but love for you,
because I have already lost.
Time has past, and I already know the pain
that comes with removal of the Cupid's arrow.
Don't fear death.
Who died before?

The body's a shell life consumes.
Who knows where the soul goes?

If there's a hell then I'll be in good company,
So why be scared?
If there is a heaven, I'll break into it. After all,
Who would prevent this?
If everything ends, then we've work to be done:
Let's be adventurous together.

My soul is aflame in this
continuum of days/continuous daze.
I'm content to pour fire on it and watch the blaze.

Follow my lead,
Breathe with me.

I'm going to play Drugs on guitar,
Ratatat and we're all on the floor.

Sentience is the greatest power in the universe,
And each of us hold it; growing consciousness.

Hard to believe something so valuable
is a commodity. Let's not commodify it.

Exponential sentient expansion occurs
when we dare to walk between "the doors".
Through venturous exploits, discovery awaits.
Quote:
Line Twenty-Three references The Doors of Perception (1954) by Aldous Huxley.
Lewis Hyden Dec 2018
The end of Second Summer's day
When rain and snow have ceased to be
Will see the end of our delay
And mark the death of our decree.

Elsewhere the despondent souls
Of smoke-stacks rise up from the coals...


As plastic melts beneath the glare
And long the Dream was dashed ashore,
Then will smog-clouds light the air
And cast the fires across the moor.

... Then, far beyond, the wand'ring mirth
Will strike the land, and scorch the Earth...


Until the sky is raised in flame
We'll walk the trail of frail regrets,
And once the world glows hot with shame
Shame will then our end beget.

... And so our doing will blaze the sky
In MMXXVII
.
A poem about global warming.
#29 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
GreenTrees Mar 2014
The moon cries at night
Her tears seen in the shadows cast by its gaze
She cries because she is chasing a glimpse of daylight
God has given all his glory to the sun in his eternal blaze
A sun so bright cannot see those  sleeping in their beds tucked tight
Only the moon and her mournful praise
And when they wake their humble heads only her tears remain

COPYRIGHT 2014
Karl v.
Cunning Linguist Jul 2015
Sacred fires burning bright
Purging the flesh of my being
Becoming one with the light
Scorching the cells of my mortal body

4 Illuminate
3 the masses
4 Self-immolate
3 to ashes
1 break
3 conciousness
4 cosmic I lapse
3 death cleanses

8 dissipate into the nether

4 essence of life
3 extinguished
4 the chains that bind
3 relinquished
1 Pain
3 Surging through
4 Serenity
3 Gleaming blaze


I, long to be cosmic,
dissipate into illumination
To, become the nether -
to lapse in lost
consciousness

Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels

8 Obsessing through the tesseract,
6 scouring past illusions
7 beyond spatiality,
4 distant pixels

Drifting, no sense or feel
Flames of color, figments of my creation

Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition

Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation

A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception

Breathe


I, long to be spectral,
fluctuate right through this oscilation
To, attain the ether -
planetary
cognizance

Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels

Obsessing through the tesseract,
scouring past illusions
beyond spatiality,
distant pixels

Drifting, no sense or feel
Flash of colors, figments of my creation

Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition

Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation

A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception

Breathe
Lyrics for my band's next song.
c Apr 21
Tonight I burn with a reckless abandon
Both ends in embers
I am choking on my smoke
I’m sorry I’m blunt
I’m sorry I’m numb
I’m sorry I run away
From everything trying to help me
I cannot share my sadness with you.
Hn Sep 2016
The day of hiking is done
Cradling a brandy snifter by fire light
A stone hearth blaze warms me as my hand warms the tulip glass
The amber liquid builds a vapour bouquet
Aromas of distilled wine and fired oak gather at the top of ballooned crystal
The warmth of my breath gathers as condensate on single pain glass
As sips evaporate on my tongue,  flavour becomes relaxation
The windows will catch my breath like frost paintings
The mountain air and wind keeps one in at night
But the brandy will keep you warm
Switzerland early 90s
Robert C Howard Jul 2013
I - WORDS LIKE PRISMS

The crystal awaits the perfect slant of sun.
The world turns just so and refracted light
Hurls a color blaze against the wall.

So it is when a long awaited word
Forms on the lips of the wise.


II - WORDS LIKE FLAX

In the fire of conflict,      
Words fall to the floor like mounds of charred flax.
Red–faced saints gather clumps to themselves  
To spin into finest thread for self-flattering raiment.
  

III - WORDS WITHOUT WORDS

When pain burrows deep in the marrow
Where words cannot assuage
A gentle touch can bleed some out
And channel hope back in.
No words can spell a kind caress.


IV - POISON WORDS

Beware the charismatic
Carrying a jar of poison pills!
Cover your glass when he passes your way
Or he’ll slip one in unawares.


V - LAUGHING WORDS

Absurdities and failures are the stuff of jokes.
Long live non sequiturs and double entendres!
We love a clumsy tumble into the drink
As long as nobody drowns.


VI - WORDS FOR BUILDING

Of course you can!
I place my total trust in you.
      

VII - WORD PAINTING

Mister Frost's words never made a wood
Or caused a harness bell to shake.
Even so I’d travel many miles
To see his imagined snow accumulate.


VIII - THE GIFT

My cat, Zoe, never says a word to me!
He doesn't have the tongue or lips or larynx for it.
He cannot fit his paws around a pen.
His brain’s too small for metaphors.

The gift belongs to us alone.
To craft words to build or **** or heal.

Forgive us Zoe for doing little with so much.

July,  2006
Austin Sessoms Apr 2012
down from the sky
came Jesus Christ
robed in glory
framed in all that
is holy
holy and unholy
****
corruption of society
cried for forgiveness
take us to your glory
let us in your *****
love us
like you love your own
oh God
we are hopeless
desperate
and depraved
wicked sinners
as you have called
for us to be
who are we to live
in righteousness?
that is not our place
our place is in Hell

down from the sky
in a blaze of glory
came Jesus Christ
our Lord and Saviour
with flaming sword
and no forgiveness
a burning hatred
for a wicked world
condemning them
to eternal damnation
in a lake of fire
as they screamed
take us
oh God
into your *****
forgive us our sins
and accept our
adoration
inspired by fear
as it may be
and all went black
and darkness prevailed
but for the light
of the fury of Christ
as we
a lost and dying world
desiring whatever
redemption
we thought he had to offer us
were destroyed
were cast away
and forgotten

down from the sky
came Jesus Christ
with hope and love
and grace and forgiveness
for those
he had predestined
to accept his hope and love
and grace and forgiveness
and he
watched
and he laughed
and he let the world
burn
Next page