"extinguisher" poems
I walked into a church today,
One I wanted to visit for days,
I passed by it, saw the huge doors open
Inviting me in daily, but I just didn’t go in.
I’m a Hindu by religion,
Indian by birth,
I have an older sister,
My mom and my dad obviously.
Why am I telling you this?
Well because I’m everything but
Happy, calm and sorted,
Just angry, irritated and anxious.
They fight, my mom and dad,
They love each other, or maybe they don’t,
But they fight and argue,
They don’t hold back on concern either.
They talk a lot, my sister and him,
The guy she’s seeing but not dating,
The guy she’s serious about but hasn’t met,
She’s always on the phone, sharing every bit of her life.
I entered the church,
Felt nothing, felt the same as usual,
No excitement, disappointment, nothing,
Temples don’t help either.
I love my family, they love me back,
They care and support me, a lot!
I don’t want it most of the times,
It both keeps me alive and suffocates me.
They are always there,
Standing right by me,
If not in person, then by spirit,
Always a call away.
I talk to them every day, thrice,
Twice at least, message my whereabouts,
It’s a habit, a want, a need
To let them know everything about me.
They are fighting now,
I got an email this time,
Not a phone call, nor message,
Mom lied, that she’s got her migraine.
Dad’s left the family WhatsApp group,
Blamed it on the work stress,
But I know better, we all do,
I may be the youngest, but I’m 20.
My sister’s fed up with me,
Well she’s not the only one,
I shout, scream, screech rudely,
Loudly, with no sane reason.
I know I need help,
We all do, for anger,
To love and feel loved,
But it’s never going to happen.
I am a psychology student,
I want to let the world know,
With my research that depression and anxiety,
Can’t be beat with medicines nor by expressing.
My sister’s a Human Rights student,
Who wants to help people,
Support and care for them,
You can’t, nothing will end human suffering.
We are the sole cause of it,
Human suffering, the ones with fuel,
The ones with the extinguisher,
Yet, each time we choose poorly.
My family is broken, ******* up,
It’s surviving on a thin string,
But it won’t break, ever,
We’ll all just drift apart.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Brackets
Your mum picked you up in daddy’s BMW,
we had to wait an hour while they scrubbed the brains of another son off the roof of the 125
(Why they built a multi storey car park on top of the bus station is a mystery to me.)
You carefully colour coordinated your files and scrutinized your revision schedules,
we watched nicked CCTV footage of two blokes smoking crack and burning down the bowling pavilion next door
(the old boys never did raise enough to repair it.)
You snubbed each other because of different tastes in jumpers,
we watched acid casualties talk politics with football hooligans
(a hastily rolled joint bridged the obvious gap.)
You lounged in the common room in your study periods,
our lesson got cancelled because John had been smashed in the face with a fire extinguisher
(and our tutor used to be a lifeguard.)
You worried about fashion and discussed the injustice of last night’s X Factor result,
we watched Neil’s head crash into his keyboard after he’d scoffed all his methadone in one go
(again.)
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Love nearly ignited, but then
An extinguisher of thought
Put a stop to that,
The flame was nearly gone
Sparks,
Light,
Heat
Was so small, exhausted little thing,
"Till that day"
"Till that kiss"
Then a candle flame burnt
In the heart,
It was if I had never
Felt,
Touched,
"Thoughts were wavering"
But I would not let this flame
Be silenced as before,
My heart was aglow
Warmth not felt since long ago,
I felt dazed with every touch
A kiss would be a journey
"Moments of bliss"
Where two lips met,
Words weren't needed
Our hands told each the
Emotions,
Meaning,
Gripped,
In each others arms,
Never again would I let feelings
Be doused, extinguished,
This time I'm letting love lead,
"No matter what happens"
I will once again let this feeling guide my way.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
Depression is an ugly Christmas sweater your mother bought you, but you never want to wear, but never want to get rid of, either. It's not her fault, as much as you tend to blame her for it. It's not anyone's fault, really, but god **** that thing is just ******* atrocious and not very-well humored. You do your best to keep it buried and hidden, no one can know that you have it, it's an embarrassment and now, because of it, so are you. It'll be in the back of your mind, in the back of your drawers, the whole time. Any time someone mentions Christmas, you'll rub the back of your head 'cause it'll come to mind, and flood with it hundreds of other terrible memories. Almost everyone has one. Those that do, understand the importance and the significance of it, but those that don't, will always look at you funny. Wonder what the hell you're doing. Set that Christmas sweater on fire while you're still wearing it. Act casual. This is normal. Everyone stops and stares, but no one offers or tries to help you. Soon you realize that it's no one's job to. The only person in the room with a fire extinguisher is you. Are you gonna put it out? Or are you gonna let the whole house burn down? Suddenly the flames are out, and no one noticed them but you. Funny, the sweater is just fine. You can burn it, stain it, cut it, slash it, destroy it in any way you can think of, but it will still be just fine. Everything will be just fine. Tell yourself "everything will be just fine." Tell everyone around you "Everything will be just fine" This sweater will make you a liar, but even when, and especially when, you don't believe it, tell everyone that everything will be just fine, because it has to be. They can't worry about you. You want them to more than anything, but you can't let them know they should be worried. They should already know. They should already know. When they ask you "what's wrong" or "why the long face," you honest mother ****** you lie to them. You lie to their face. You look up and you tell them "Don't worry, everything's just fine. Can I have some more eggnog?"
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
Have you ever felt a flame?
Have you ever seen something hot enough to melt the bitter ice block you call your heart. It’s scalding.
Sensual ****** flames that kiss your lonely corners and make you wonder how the fire department isn’t on stand by. Have you ever felt desire burn so deep in your bones you taste magma and blood?
What does that yearning bring you?
Why havnt the got **** fire alarms gone off yet? Do you wish for release? Or do you beg the embers to dance a little longer on your skin.
Is hot a temperature? Or does heat echo in your sweat and pores everytime you hear me? **** the ******* extinguisher. Set me ablaze! Light me up everytime you combust. I just want to feel fire.
Oct 9, 2019
Oct 9, 2019 at 1:30 AM UTC
If you were a shrub, you would be a good shrub!
Hello! SNIFF You smell different when you're awake! (Courtesy of Kollitiki)
I hate a lot of people, but you are not one of them. I also hate ducks. WOW do I ever hate ducks.
Hi there! Will you marry me?
Wanna come over to my place? I'll show you all 89.3 of my cats!
Hey babe, you wanna buy me a drink? Oh, no just water. I'm not allowed alcohol in this bar since the chainsaw incident last month with my exboyfriend....
Look babe, I know this sounds like one of those fake sobs stories made up to get you laid, but how about coming home with me? I have a terminal illness and it would just make my life complete if you would come home with me. Thank you so much baby, bless your soul. Oh, what illness? Ummm ...leprosy....
Tries to be seductive with scalp and elbows
I LOVE YOUR FAAAACE!!!!!!! (Courtesy of the ever brilliant Spencer Craig)
Your left eyebrow is ****
I don't care about my dates having good hair or a lack of BO, so you and I should date.
HIIIIIIIII I BAKED YOU A SALAD!!!
Here is a fire extinguisher gorgeous ;) .......Sorry for lighting you on fire...
Hey babe, did anyone ever tell you? Your eyes are as green as um those green sticky note thingies they sell at Walmart, and your hair is the color of frying pans.
Hey cute thing, wanna hear a fun fact? It is physically impossible to lick your elbow. Well, I mean, for you. I meant to say it is physically impossible for YOU to lick your elbow, I could lick your elbow if I wanted, that would be physically possible. (demonstrates your ability to lick the "cute-thing's" elbow) HEY WAIT COME BACK!
HEY! WANNA SEE MY SNOWMAN COLLECTION???????
I have your name tattooed on my **** wanna see? (Courtesy of The Girl Who Loved You)
Did you fall from heaven? Cause you look a little banged up... (Courtesy of The Girl Who Loved You)
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
When the paintbrush of the day
is tucked away
and the sunset dipped
in the forest of the night
the moon wanes and waxes
down the hills of stars
atop that shady wrap.
Who peeps in
where the sleeping beauty wakes
is any one guess
nor it's a amateur's business.
Far from the half lit astral canopy
any bucket lowered
deep down on the ground
into a barrowed well of colours
comes up with a Joseph of Cannon
the firesome story goes on.
The same fire burner
is also the same fire extinguisher
Alexander the Great intrigued life water
cool serene cup of Ab-e Hayat elixir!
Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 11:55 AM UTC
I've always been wary--
and celebrated my potential
Betrayal
and
Certain
death(.) (oh)
At The Juice Joint.
All wet. (incorrrr
--ect.)
Applesauce. (non
sense.)
All dolled up. Showed off my
Gams
And Big Jazz
(eyes).
Wanted to get spifflicated with some
Dolls
and
Jellybeans.
...my fella.
?
Didn't have enough clams.
Any of us.
We
're the new
Lost
...generation.
I thought I'd keep the bank open,
but
interest wasn't given
Cash or Check:
didn't really matter.
Might've been
the
cat
's
meeeeeow.
And
how.
Ahhhhh...
we all had our glad rags on.
the Daddies hit on all sixes.
Let's get ZOZZLED on some
jag juice,
dewdropper.
Deeeeeewdropper. ~errrrrrrrr.....
Though giggle juice is more apt
...for me.
Leave the Mrs. Grundys at home...no fire extinguishers allowed.
How ironic.
You were the extinguisher.
Bring Your Own Knife
, we said.
It's a Stabbing Party
, we said.
I didn't want to handcuff you. Didn't want to exchange manacles.
("No, I'm no one's Wife, but OHHHHH, I love my Life.")
I percolate.
I percolate.
I percolate.
I'm not your quiff.
...not your sheba...or a vamp.
Just admire my
chassis
if you will.
they
all
do
The engine'll purr
for you,
~~if you turn the keys just so
Everything was
Copacetic.
Copacetic...
For a time.
(get'hotget'hot!)
Caesar's here.
Hussssshhhhhhhh...
...speak
~~eeeeeaaaaassssyyyyy.
And then I realized.
I'm tired of being Caesar
( . )
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
write at midnight. edit in the morning.
write on a mountain. edit on a beach.
write inside a dream. edit & exist in reality.
write in a fever pitch as starlight kisses your cheekbones.
edit in the cold dawn light without excuses.
write loudly with Bjork screaming into the curtains.
edit in silence.
write as the clouds gather around the gibbous moon.
edit as the sun crests the hill & burns away the fog.
write inside, cozy under a blanket.
edit naked, cold on the front porch.
write asking questions.
edit demanding answers.
write blindfolded with your fingers waltzing across the qwerty.
edit bespectacled or with a monocle.
write like a mass ****** edit like a suicide.
or better yet
write like a homicide. edit like a detective.
write toward the open sky with your legs outstretched before you.
edit facing a clean white wall with your knees against your chest.
write because you are innocent. edit because you are guilty.
write during a fit of hyperventilation.
edit during mammoth exhalation.
write with complexity. edit into simplicity.
write, as Hemingway did, drunk.
edit, not sober, but hungover.
see your flaws in the sharp mirror of a headache.
write during sloppy explosion. edit during precise implosion.
write with your head in the clouds gnawing at the cumulus.
edit with your feet firmly planted in the ground.
write during violent collision.
edit during calm separation.
write with a pencil on soggy paper in a hot shower.
edit with a red pen sitting in tepid murky bathwater.
write among raucous laughter & banging skillets.
edit in secret while the kids are asleep.
write like a sadomasochist.
edit like a psychiatrist.
write while running on your tip-toes.
edit while lying flat on your back.
write in several languages with abandon.
edit beside a translator dictionary.
write as you are engulfed in fire.
edit with an extinguisher.
write with careless fluidity.
edit without assistance from amphetamine or coffee.
write with a full bladder,
standing up,
jitterbugging,
squeezing the tip of your *****
closed--urgently
squirm & trickle
your ideas onto
the porcelain page.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:33 AM UTC
I remember the black spot
over the stove,
before dad painted over top,
and made the world normal again.
I remember the smoke detector,
how it sounded like a broken toy
left on, until the batteries
would eventually run out.
"I wanna see!"
How tiny those boots,
fit for an Alaska winter,
must now seem,
but hardly at all when I was carried next door,
still in my pajamas,
to watch the big truck
with its bells and lights.
It was dusty when they left.
A thin, white blanket of snow,
to ***** out a grease fire,
lightly frosted the tiny
toy ice cream cart.
"Don't touch that!"
"Can I help you paint?"
Perhaps I could cover up
my very first nightmare,
where the big red fire engine
shot me with a jet of water
past my mom and dad,
through a snow white trellis,
and into a tiny bed
with Winnie the Pooh sheets,
screaming at two in the morning.
It's funny to be gun-shy
of every school fire alarm,
because the Army safety officer
was caught without his fire extinguisher.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
So much information
So many stories
why one extinguisher?
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
*Attacked by that which I love
I hold my ground
try to maintain sanity
pain matriculating
poisonous seeds
one-by-one
planted, deep within me
tears formulate
I’m on the brink of releasing
Darts of fire
directed at me
I take cover
shielding myself from the attack
dodging the consistent blaze
though most of me am covered
still parts of me gets burned
It hurts...
I'm wounded...
Is there a fire extinguisher for pain?*
PLEASE use it on me now!!!
~ButterFly εїз 2011 ©
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
Not sure what to make of it
I felt comfortable--
Knowing that the fire extinguisher was there
It made me feel safe
If anything ever caught fire I could put it out
I was a selfish child--full of arrogance and naivety
The world mistook my insecurity and inexperience for apathy
All I wanted was a place to call my own,
Something to hold on to
I did not worry about the still-lit cigarette
Not even when it bounced from the sidewalk to the grass
The red hot embers glowed among the dying grass
I did not worry when the fire began
I took my sweet time in getting the extinguisher
By the time I came back my world was engulfed in flames
Scrambling, I tried to smother the heat
The extinguisher let out a pathetic puff of dust
And I stood as hell fire consumed my home
Acrid smoke muffled my screams and floating ashed blinded me
All that was left was a charred fire extinguisher and the frames of my glasses
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
2am. Swollen eyes. Sober hearts.
“I think I might be in love with you” said a boy with fire in his lungs
“You shouldn’t be” I said with disgust in my tongue
3am. Bloodshot eyes. Drunken hearts.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
“Why not?” is all he could ask
“I don’t what to get burned every time my eyes meet yours,“ and I finally wore my mask
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
standing high atop
the place where he cashed his checks
armed with 5 gallons
Arrowhead's extinguisher
a hero in a bottle
he foolishly fought
the flames of civil unrest
then the roof caved in
good intentions killed in vain
swallowed by the fire pit
days dressed in mourning
haunting the cemetery
tending her grave's grass
grieving guilty tears of loss
for the young daughter she had
she was too busy
caught up in "bargain's" frenzy
lost sight of her girl
her 12 year old was trampled
beneath the lust of looters
gasoline cans brought
to burn the local market
were beat back badly
chased away by baseball bats
a homeboy fire brigade
"This is our market!
The only one in the hood.
It ain't goin' down.
We saw the news on tv.
That **** ain't happenin' here."
tales of rioting
the worst and best in people
national headlines
the leviathan rises
through the smoke, fire, and ash
anger incited
latent hooliganism
an unjust verdict
for police brutality
can't we all just get along?
Jan 9, 2010
Jan 9, 2010 at 10:49 AM UTC
1.
When she kissed him
he lit up like a firework
shot into the sky
and exploded in jubilant splendor
She was not entirely pleased,
as he now rained down upon her.
2.
When he smiled at her
she felt as if the warmth
of a thousand suns were
inside of her chest.
Luckily there was
a fire extinguisher
nearby
Choose your metaphors
with care
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
Twisted brain shiver spine tickle
Morbid curiosity has the wheel and lead feet
The torch is melting your face
Death beats you with a fire extinguisher
Death keeps screaming "it's for the irony"
You high five with exuberance.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
Your words were your sword
and I’m the headless dragon
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 10:36 AM UTC
I don't feel safe,
as though a predator has found
the combination to my comfort zone,
and now has unlocked it,
and is stealing my peace of mind.
"Please stop," I plead.
My arms are shaking, my hangover
is bigger than Trump's Wall.
The same blocked number appears and reappears
, then repeats on my phone screen.
I had to block you on my Gmail (Is that even a thing?).
Tinder used to be for fun,
and now I have contracted a haunting for five lifetimes.
My old friends do not want to speak to me.
I understand their worries, finally,
and I hope it's not too late to listen.
But your screeching voice is deafening
and it's hurting my sanity.
I'm sitting on my soft couch,
writing this poem,
and my fingers tremble as I write.
Because I don't even feel safe in my own house.
Once upon a time,
I thought we would say the "I dos."
Now, all I want is whiskey until I reach oblivion.
IRL is the steepest road to travel on,
but I chose a shortcut,
and now I have fallen off and into a descent
into a madness that Ginsberg has only whispered about
during smoke breaks at the temple building.
Quitting to smoke cigarettes is easier
than dealing with your stab-wounds of sentences.
Like my FaceBook Status,
if you've ever felt violated and controlled
by an old flame.
Then grab a fire extinguisher,
press the lever,
and put out the conflagration,
before it burns your life away.
-Andy
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 1:14 PM UTC
I had chest pains for you
chest aches
chest cracks
chest fractures for you
A highly flammable heart
it burned me from the inside out
and made me feel like a new person
I'm better now, my chest is fine and I know that I'll meet fire again one day at the bus stop when the timing is right
but for now my heart is cooled and settled
settled so far into myself
falling
not in love
but sinking deep into disappointment
You are not who you used to be
You are not who I swore I would love forever
and you no longer need a fire extinguisher to put me out
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Tomorrow comes to quick these days
whizzing, sprinting through my gaze
as the years go rushing by
slow down, I'm worried that I'll die.
I'll miss things that are yet to be
I want to live? Is that really me?
****** hell you cheeky liar
we got the wood for your funeral pyre!
All the times you tried to leave
last rites made us start to grieve
then you recovered in a trice
put the burial on ice."
nearly went in the big french crash
on my head oh, what a smash
lost my memories for a bit
can't spot my friends, makes me feel ****
drunk bad stuff, burnt inside
still got a grin a half mile wide
set on fire for fun while fishing
"An extinguisher!" I was wishing
loads of pills, ergotomine too
saw bad things from satan's zoo
tunnel of light like in the movies
got sent back, yeah really groovy
ICU with all false names
never knew me, good at that game
now there's stuff I need to do
people help me to pull through
so think I'll try and stick around
not go six feet beneath the ground
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 3:27 PM UTC
Jimmy Boom Semtex is into many things. Writing is one. His varied work includes poetry, prose and stories on a variety of topics. Erotica like his Fire Extinguisher Man series, poetry on current world events, horror stories and more besides. Jimmy loves getting tattooed, listening to alternative music, drinking beer and living a simple but fulfilling life. Check his Facebook page out. He's working on new ****** stories and a poetry collection. His writing career is diverse and so are the authors/poets/writers he’s collaborated with like Filipina poetess Shy Lhen Esposo and Indian Saurabh Pant. Jimmy Boom Semtex is a pen name of Nick Armbrister.
Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
Mottor:”If you wanna tell a crazy joke to God, tell him about your plans”
joy to the world at 4 a.m. my cell is ringing
like a sad sheep its my granny saying hey I leave you
I am going to the Veterans New Year Party I have a randez-vous
I am grabbing my head: Jeesus...world
I am drinking since yesterday non-stop
plain water with lemon I am sick
from his cookies and seriously thinking
to get to The Suicider's New Year Party
well not just thinking but really going
I have my ticket since last year
when even Picky my loving pit-bull left me
actually why should I make crazy plans
when my personal angelic unconsciousness guards me
I am checking in on the plane maybe it brakes in the air
and I will have my party with the fellows of Bin Laden
I will sing cazzaciock while shooting with the katiusha
on empty ***** bottles
joy to the world and dance your brains out
you suicidal lonely kid
aha that is the new hit of a virtual band
called The Kings of Desperados
while slaves are jubilant in their free time
working to stay put in front of a idiot
also called TV to have a wonder
I have my ticket what can I do
I am so childish sometimes I have a miffed balloon
a fire-extinguisher with champagne
some poem-fireworks wrapped around me
joy to the world I will ignite them all
here in the public market
I will blow them all like a charm!
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 12:01 AM UTC
Stories about people aren’t really about people
this tale is a separate reality
full of opinions and perception based senses
I saw Michele’s addiction as a sketchy weather forecast
the most famous weathermen lie the most, ya know
She watched the sobriety of her life zoom by a whirlpool of backstreets
flew by them in Chance’s silver Chevy malibu going 80 mph
through our quiet suburban town
she waved at every lightning strike the moment before electrocution
you see, she was in love with blinding pain
out of control burning rubber scented pain
and I, tried so hard to be her fire extinguisher, her seatbelt
I wanted her smile to radiate every karat lodged in her throat
because her words are precious diamonds
Her mind is a museum built upon three floors
the first floor is tragedy
concrete blankets and concrete misconceptions
of what feeling safe is like
shadows with shark like teeth
she can never escape their threat of gnawing
it even reaches her on the roof
the second floor is forest green
in-between escape and peaceful freedom
she was born an observer, a lover of hidden oddities
an explorer of broken wide eyed hope
she could smile at a mosquito and every spider
would willingly starve to death
the third flow is a fireplace in the middle of a bonfire
a wishing well anchored in the atlantic ocean
everything she deserves, harmonious orchestras
of sobriety salvation are stationed in a country
dependent on chemicals
she will never get the shooting star she deserves
because she’s been soaring through our galaxy for lightyears
a blazing comet amongst dull asteroids
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC