"fireball" poems
It was only the other day you fell asleep in your old chair
The one that was in your front room decades ago
You didn't see Andy Murray lose but you didn't care
You’d eaten well and heavy eyed you dozed
I’m sorry but when I lost the house it had to go
I know throwing it out was a bit wrong
But if chairs go to heaven though
At least you’ll have something there to sit on
I wish I’d never told you off for smoking by the pump
You looked so sad that I’d made you feel a fool
But imagine how you would have made those people jump
As they were all engulfed by a massive fireball
Enjoy your new lungs and try keeping them clean for a few hours
Enjoy your time with Granddad it’s been thirty years too long
Enjoy strolling through those heavenly gardens with all your favourite flowers
But in heaven, please don’t bag cuttings; I’m sure up there it’s wrong!
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
The sewer stink of street trash
marries the scent of desire
veiled in crimson shadows
reflected on the damp pavement
Thoughts silenced by the gasp
of nylons being shredded by possibility
Teeth grip then slip
on the sweat of a humid night
Fireball burns sweet
as night lands on the flesh in city soot
a grit that makes every movement
a sanguinary promise
forged on the edge of pain
Owned. Taken. Willed.
Filled with primal intoxication
that turns warm city nights
into shameless memories
wrapped in the stink of street trash
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 4:28 AM UTC
Like a captive, I capture rapture wrapping around stakes that matter
Joan of Arc battered
Also tattered but, easily dismissive
Refracted from fractured prominent phrases people play with
Distinctly persuasive and evasive, dressed boyishly attractive, lax stature, dawning armor crafted by absence as if asked about it-
I’m drifted
Protection is principle prerequisite, when fire is lit
I sort of implore your aorta before it’s incinerated to ashes
Dethatched as a habit, with swords or hatchets crafted to singe heartstrings that attached it
While I slash slick Rick as a quick fix,
To fend for pretend pretenses or presumed tricks,
I can’t quit
Cause I hit lips against hash spliffs fashioned with dashes of passion all while rationing fireball cinnamon sips
Martyr to avoidance
I gaze at fabled dazed gossipers galvanizing grips on gritty grapevines while licking warning labels through smoke haze on blurred lines
Capably unstable
Other eyes attending scandal circles able to shout lies and rekindle handed arguments on tables with locked smiles stay boxed in
Avidly amiable
Searching for counterparts when combusted or branded
Toying with matches loses meaning when rules reseed
Those vagabonds claim love is some all end hard bent to mend what the same above can’t comprehend.
Breaking boredom, I pillage pillows with night terrors
And ardent arsonists yearn for flames that churn, turn, liquefy and learn learned thoughts and smoldered feelings
Completely complacent
Melting in one another they are completing each other like two candles tryst true at a wedding day
However later the blaze is severed, smoke sears, and charred black wick stands alone for them.
Aggressive and progressive.
As for me never pleading, fire forever fleets to streets between iron bars I built that cage in deep heat and seep dire dreams once desired
Suppose I’m a skeptic
Roasted or disconnected
Just jaded, just met you
Always over it too soon
Burnt but I’m amused.
I’m useful.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
I started smoking because you said it made me look ****
the grey smoke, you said, brought out the green in my eyes.
We took a fireball with whiskey and called it sane,
you kissed smoke into my mouth and addiction into my veins,
but at the end of the night...
that was okay.
Because smoking made me look **** at least in your eyes;
Because I was drunk anyway, on your lips and your thighs.
*I told you take a puff because I wanted our hearts to entwine;
Does that make me such a bad girl? Is it such a terrible crime
to want to make you addicted to something... anything of mine.
You smiled reason back into my life and purpose into my mind;
but at the end of the night...
it wasn't enough.
Because your smile was too sad,
and I needed you to share in my tongue tied joy.
Because your reason was too mad,
and I wanted so bad for my own that naive green eyed boy.*
So, I started smoking and drinking for a girl. Is that so wrong?
*So, I stopped him looking and thinking. Took his heart for a twirl.
Is that so wrong?*
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
Up all night in your underwear
Up all night with Saturday hair
Up all night with the birds sittin there
With the clock tickin there
Why do you care
Sleep all day I don't wanna see
**** the sun baby
**** your dumb party
Momma come a knockin
Just to come hug me
I'm goin crazy
I can feel the heat
Fireball whiskey
And your tongue on me
That's my medicine
Yum yum yummy
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:46 AM UTC
resuming vogon poetry
altering website logos
pretending everyone cares
playing "east hastings"
asphyxiating well-nigh denouement
depicting twitter status
obfuscating coincident deletions
translating from Sḵwx̱wú7mesh
assuring Sḵwx̱wú7mesh exists
painting skwiḵw's mother?
decrying micropolitical maelstrom
imbibing fireball fountain
inundating lexical foofaraw
crafting poetic wonders
desiring other mediums
remaining practically invisible
ending internet-only depression
drafting noetic blunders
requesting astute clique
blazing perilous trail
aging ominous grisaille
depicting kmart realism
seeking darker groups
increasing pre-weekend laughter
appropriating communist symbols
making lone chuckle
offending worldwide communists
colonizing hello poetry
colonizing parallel universe
relaxing e-migration policies
пить чистую водку
photographing abduction scene
¿losing consistent format?
increasing bluebird insignia
avoiding frivolous legalities
striking astraphobic comments
assuming near-universal automation
lowering latent inhibition
traversing oneiric plane
laxwadding afebrile loodies
wallscaping pitchsourced chthonicities
closing one-star conveniences
sharing alien-looking alphabet
writing system downtimes
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
If I ever see you again
I'll spat insults and hope they
Spray on your aviators
like the bugs that squashed against
my windshield the last time
I drove away from you
If fate destroys me
and I am in the same pub one night
as your wormy self
I'll tell you how you're the most
arrogant, vapid, shallow, womanizing,
******* male mascot
I've ever had the disgust to know
I'll slap you hard across the face
Oh and not like Scarlett O'Hara,
you demon darling
No crushing kiss will follow
and I'll mean vengence
vile will seep through my mouth
instead of the sweet saliva
I let you taste
long ago
If I ever hear your voice
or see your mocking manequin
among my tele again
With disgraceful force
I will lift that 50 lb set
and propel that ******* screen
across the state
The way your black static apology
shattered the brightness
that used to reside
within
me
If I hear of you
one more dispicable time
I'll grow bombs maticulously
within my empty core
and time them so perfectly
that all of your dysfunctional doormat
confidants
will explode the second they come near me
and their manipulative cells
will burst
and be burried among the soil
of ***** words
you whispered in my ears
**** if I ever see you again
I'll shatter every martini glass around me
and down a fifth of fireball
and breath venomous fire
and burn you, you beastly boy
And I'll pretend beauty amongst you
and walk away, a tall glass of water
That could diffuse
that angry licking fire
that is swallowing you up
When I see you again
I won't acknowledge your existence
and I'll be dressed to the nines
and I won't do a ******* thing about it
Because you aren't worth a sentence within this stanza
But I know I am.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
I read
a digital sign today,
it went something like this..
"Some mistakes are too ****** cool to make only once"
To which my head replied... 'or twice for that matter'.
I don't understand myself when everything goes my way
but I carry a big ten inch snit...
This morning I found
a silver ring and an empty bottle of
FIREBALL Cinnamon Whisky.
I have never drank the stuff but it sounds as bad as White Shark,
a hanged over in a glass vessel.
What a way to start the day, day two on the way to breaking the cigarette habit..
I have to on the count of they're killing me.. But I love my smoke.
Thank you God for the e-cigarette.. I love love, love you, oh thank you Lord!
And the puff-puff-pass doesn't help,
I have to buy stock in Halls Cough Drops,
I use them so much I've had to take a second mortgage out on the house that I will never own.
Anyway, the lady's gone to bed and I have music floatin' in my head.. was ****** most of the day
but you can't keep a good man down.
end © 2014
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
My socks are a conversation starter,
They have more to say than me.
I request a Kid Cudi song
To the kid with his laptop open to YouTube,
Pretending to be a DJ.
Someone takes a long pull on the hookah.
I discuss True Blood in the backseat of a car with a girl from Hungry.
I drink a Capri Sun.
Eat some Ritz.
My mind is sober and waiting for my body to catch up.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
Fireball's through
The sky as children
Cry and the never ending
War and sadness all my life
And heartbreak every day
And children dying
In cold blood today and
It's just an other sad day
In war torn Palestine today.
Apr 8, 2022
Apr 8, 2022 at 4:58 AM UTC
Simple string slips through, complicated fingertips.
Wishes, desires tied into the shape of, a single red balloon.
Thumbing a ride on a Sunday breeze,
Surfing its way over tops of rooted trees.
Winged aerialists delicately balanced on mirrored water,
The leavers dance, front row for a final show.
Doing what I can never find the courage to do,
Slip away, uncharted destination.
Through ragged linen flowing in the sky,
Past the saffron fireball,
Cautiously placed beyond the horizon.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
"Nice guys finish last because they always let the girl finish first"
Taking that advice like a shot of fireball,
I still wish you would have
kissed me.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 5:51 AM UTC
you turn me
into someone
I am not-
but-
the only time I am myself
is with you.
you are the sunshine:
with a small taste
I feel
radiant,
effortless,
full.
with too much,
I get burnt.
like a moth
to a light-bulb;
I seek you.
I will fry myself-
I will burn-
just to feel your warmth.
the hot sunshine
in the desert
forms
a mirage,
an oasis,
a luscious stream of water
to quench
my endless thirst.
when I am close enough
to reach it,
I realize there was
nothing.
all along-
my paradise-
nothing
but the hot,
dry sunshine
and my
never-fulfilled desire.
engulf my planet,
fatal fireball,
disguised as an
angel from afar;
I want my skin to melt
in your
blistering light,
like a candlestick.
I want to
melt into a puddle
of who I once was.
I don't know how to live without you.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC
I drive a white truck big and clumsy,
It's a whale,
But today I get to drive the BMW,
It's just a sedan,
But I'll make it a fireball
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 10:42 AM UTC
As days do pass we look and seek
Our hearts have words we never speak
To our minds our hearts do tell
Who we love we love them well
To some we are mystery
Discovered in ones history
All out there like the news
Read a page then we choose
Adventure in the discovery
Pain in the recovery
Some will never read the book
Regret the chances never took
Life goes on till we're dead
Reality still moves ahead
Time moves slow and then real fast
Precious moments that we cast
Created like the finest art
Add our flavor do our part
To reach a common destiny
Cherish each others company
So much love we all waste
Don't let frustration change your face
Let it in then let it go
Release the breath of your soul
In our mind we make the turn
Learn from all the pain we earn
Gather it up create a giant fireball
Shoot it out release it all
Ashes blow in the wind
Time for this Phoenix to be reborn again
Challenge me take me to task
To love you as the moments pass
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 7:09 PM UTC
Cigarette hugs and Fireball kisses,
How can this love be fictitious,
How the smoke fills my lungs with tender embrace,
The cinnamon whiskeys gentle caress,
This is true love,
Warm, Comforting,
Whiskey tells no lies as it touches my lips,
The smoke bares no knife as it surrounds my hips,
So Cigarette hugs and Fireball kisses
Because your memory still makes my eyes glisten.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
She hates the city
Say street lamps
Are too cold
For marshmallows,
Too far apart
For hammocks
And a little too yellow
For stars.
She loves daisies
Especially when they're alive
And drinks sunshine
Like it's a fireball
Bottle at a bachelor party
She
Has got a body.
Like a Lego fire walk
That I can't help but
Move across
Slowly,
On the parts of her
Past that build us
Omnicolored castles
Of Kings and Queens
And treasure chests
Too small to hold anything
Outside our own imagination
And I,
Her ready loyal Knight
With nothing but
A dull promise
On the edge of my tongue
Laying my rusty faith
At her feet keep
Moving
Like my eyes
Across a line
Across a line
Across a line
That I never
Want to stop
Reading
Her edges
With my fingertips
Like the map
To my home
And her lips
The closest thing
I've got to
A key
But she
Is not the type
That needs a night
To see the stars
And I
Am not the type
To write poems
From fireflies
That I never learned
To let go
'Cause I know my life
Has seen enough jars
Of my amputated parts
To know you don't have
To be broken to be used
To picking up the pieces.
But baby break me.
Like a firefighter
With a family of four
Who knows the risks.
With your arms
'Round my fists
The only chance I've got
Of making it out alive.
So baby hold me
Like a papier mâché
Tugboat from articles
Of my past that I no longer
Want to pull.
And my plaster heart
Heavy,
Ready to be made
Into something new
With my hands full of skipping stones
I no longer have the stomach read
'Cause I don't wanna leave her life
Without being buried somewhere beneath.
But I don't wanna dig too deep
Before I figure out just how to breathe.
So every time she leaves,
I wear my teeth
On her scent
Ribs bent
In the direction
Of her return.
For the first time
In a long while
I've got a fire in me.
And this time,
I'm gonna let it burn.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
We often say,
" Save me,"
as if it were
possible at all.
like catching
all the world's
waterfalls
like breathing
a fireball
like dogs playing
basketball
But those don't work,
and neither does our wish.
Hopeless
like words on the lips of fish
Try as you might
but your attempts will always
be dismissed.
The hope of salvation is
self-love that persists.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
Smells like the smoke coming from the 24-hour 711 next to the fright train
like the walk home from the part time job past the house he used to live in
like the cookies we made but never ate
like guilt slipping from cover
like I almost let it show
Sounds like daddy's cancer
like driving on the freeway with no music
like not speaking
like I don't know how to
like every ride home from the hospital
like the fireworks we lit a few months back in our front yard
like the mistakes I called choices
Feels like the first boy I let have me vulnerable
like the meeting of hand to face
like shaking shoulders into apology
like the forgiveness crawling from his lips
like my tongue unfurling with remorse coming too easy
like my voice echoing I'm sorry
like it is something I will always be
Tastes like swallowing a pill backwards
like Fireball mixed with the thick of cough syrup
like holding back a ****** nose
like vicodin dust between broken teeth
like waiting for another winter
Looks like leaving the front door open for the air to come in
like the snow building a cast around our insecurities
like it's never been this cold before
like this Chicago is a stranger we never loved
like the ****** he tried just once
like how once can be enough to **** us
like all the questions we never got answered
like when will the branches stop cracking?
what makes a flame keep growing?
and why are these memories still
breathing?
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
The poet,he seemed more a runaway priest,
Was grounded by black lace.
A bigtime kiss blaze with a novelist.
Strutting her literary living,she was
The fireball blitz,extreme.
The scorekeeper some term Karma,
And others call Chance,
In solvent stock fashion,
Dealt deadly destiny.
The eye-opener fatal love
Crrawled into a crying song.
The guitar,a jailhouse flower,
Celebrated the greatt flair for folly
For writers,where the grass is greener.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
Deep breaths are rare
More often ash drags through the streets
I see those eyes on top of every mountain peak
I used to look away when yours and mine would meet
We'd watch wrinkled heartbeats sputter-crash against concrete
You held me firm and hollow for a flawless month
I left my heart to blister in the August sun
I'd soon let it dry up before those blinding sunshine eyes
If it meant I'd get to kiss your ink and collar one last time
Close enough to singe my hair, but turn my body gold
You're my midnight fireball
Impossible to hold
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 7:18 PM UTC
crimsons from the runaway sundown
were an open **** on the sea surface
skyline's throat ingested the fireball
whole without mastication
her fingers played hide and seek
while her unbidden tears
matched the hues of the rippling waters
and staccato sad moans lingered like dirge
above the melody of the distant surf…
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 12:47 PM UTC