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Best Fire Poems

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DOUSING MY FIRE part of the extreme by MARK, ANTHONY
Trial By Fire by johnson, randy
Fire Monkey by Lindsay, David
Summer Fire by Massey, A. Mark
Light a Fire For today by McGeachy, Gerrard
Friends, Like Bridges to Fire by Penner, Clint
Irish Fire by Roffey, James
A Glorious Fire by Raven, Vladislav
ice in the line of fire by King, Marty
Lets start a fire by lewis, robert

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The Best Fire Poems

Details | Fire Poem | |

A Tale of Fire and Ice

Part I: Ice

He shines like silver midnight moon -
cool marble statue, this tycoon.
And though he makes the ladies swoon,
of ice he’s hewn.; of ice he’s hewn.

He’s poker-faced and can deceive
competitors and can achieve
most anything, but can’t conceive
of Genevieve, of Genevieve.

Like Neptune, distant from the sun -
relationships he chose to shun.
He thought the search for love was done.
He has no one; he has no one.

Now love’s allure has come his way.
What will he do? What will he say?
Will he grab hold, beg love to stay,
or let it stray? Or let it stray?

Part II: Fire

This dragoness disguised in lace -
passion’s flower with angel’s face,
precisely picks the time and place
each dream to chase, each dream to chase.

Like ink the color red, she stains
the hearts of those whose love she drains,
and then she leaves when naught remains
No lust she feigns; no lust she feigns.

And now there’s one who would suffice.
For him alone, she’d sacrifice
her everything, so he of ice
she must entice, she must entice.

So Genevieve now strikes the flame.
Will man of ice his love proclaim?
Beneath her fire and his cold frame,
they’re both the same. They’re both the same.

By Andrea Dietrich 

For Carol Brown's FIRE And ICE Poetry Contest
and now for PD's Best Love poem 3 Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


Details | Fire Poem | |

Artillery Rain

~Perfect Rain~

I can see!
All the tribulations around
A rage against the burning wind
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice
Everybody avoids feeling the smoke hidden within
A rain so deep it burns all the enamel off my skin
A rain that cut my soul in half
Two-piece that will not entwine or merge down a dragon path
I feel this eternity has no ending blaze
Trigger happy rain, extinguishing a bonfire around my rose.

I will sleep under the artillery stars tonight
With the perfection of my fiery crystal lava teardrops
Washing the ashes of my face,
Suppressing the overwhelming fear
Knowing no one will ever, "BLAME IT ON THE RAIN!" 
As long as the torch keeps loading another artillery round.

~*~
PD
4/12/12
Trashed  #3, sponsor, Broken Wings
Date Trashed November 2nd, 2015

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


Details | Fire Poem | |

SCARRED LAND

SONNET – SCARRED LAND

The trees were leafless, burnt, the branches charred, 
the ground covered by blackened forms; ashen.
The golden soil turned gray, the earth scarred,
nature’s conversion in fearsome fashion.
But then the world opened for a new life,
first the harshness of land, and of being,
to discover the richness, culture rife,
of life, a land of plenty worth seeing.
Landscape sculptured like a woman; to see,
with beauty and form for eyes to adore.
Breathtaking was the view, vast land and sea,
life’s gifts as female form‘s love to explore.

Scarred would be life before revival,
an inherent part of love’s survival.


T.J Grén

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016


Details | Fire Poem | |

Atlantis

~ATLANTIS~   Featuring:) Kelly Deschler

-------
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time'
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse 
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
--------

In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by Engineers and Architects whom loved power more than the Gods 
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories,
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of The Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic Waves
A magical island held down by the hands of death, 
~
Atlantis lost city walls ---a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters   
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
~
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
 -Listen to PLATO'S voice-
"Look close, Look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast 
ATLANTIS THE PARADISE


~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


Details | Fire Poem | |

Touched by Your Flame

I watched them gather round
The warmth of your flame
Like campers at campfire time
Huddling close to you
Pushing and jostling
For the best place
I saw your warmth
Dancing off their faces
Small cinders escaping into the night
I followed the sparks drifting up
On the chilly breeze
Riding high…disappearing into the stars

I was cold
I was alone
On the edge
And yet…I dared not go near you
Though your light invited me
And I wanted so much to be warmed
By you
Yet….how could I find a place
By those encircling you
Watching the mesmerizing display 
Of your orange and yellow flames
There was no place
Among the gathering of....
The strong, the beautiful, the insistent
So, on the outskirts I stayed
Tears trickling down my cheeks
Cold
Alone…

I waited…I held back
Until they all left
One by one
Some bumping into me
Not even aware that I was alive
I waited until you had almost died out
No longer on display
But a warm glow of embers
Still orange and glowing with desire
And I approached
Shyly…
Longingly…
Needing to see you dance
For me….only for me
And I coaxed you
In my clumsy way
My fingers cold
My heart ablaze

Suddenly....you burst into flame
A pillar of fire
Miracle of love
For I had not added any kindling
But my little heart
And yet it seems you had waited
Knowing I would come
And my slightest touch
Made the flames spring to life
Voracious flames
Flames reaching the high heavens 
Your heat overpowering
Consuming
I almost threw myself into you
Wanting to reach the center
Of the heat and warmth
Of your beauty…

I spent the night
Out under the stars
Lying naked
Yet not cold
Naked
Yet not ashamed
Naked
Yet not shy
For your glow was my covering

I let myself be touched
Time and again
By licking fingers of fire
By the burning flames of your desire
For….ME!

For Gail's Contest
Touched by Your Flame
May 27, 2013

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013


Details | Fire Poem | |

The Eternal Tree

I am Alive    Forever and always         Essence        Rebirth        Renewal
          I have earth to ground me      I have wind to move me   I have fire to cleanse         
     my     spirit        I have rain      to quench    my thirst    for growth
                      I have sun to    enlighten me        feed me  I am my own mother
              and an extension of the whole     I am   Earth         wind
                       rain   sun  fire    I am as old as life  and I am     as young
   as time   I am shelter to those who seek me   I am a bird  a flower and  the breath
              of the earth itself        I am exactly where I want to be     I am life
       I am first and last  the beginning and the end   I am one from many
                        I am what I am   I live  I grow  and I die. I am  Reborn unto myself
                                                          I am the great circle                   
                                                           My limbs know no                          
                                                           Boundaries; while                            
                                                           My leaves whisper                      
                                                           The one truth of the                      
                                                           Whole  through the           
                                                           Seasons changing
                                                            Colors that I wear 
                                                            Upon my   heart's                  
                                                            Sleeve, I'm home
                                                           To Earth Mother’s
                                                           Melodious  Life; I
                                                           Sing for the whole
                                                         World to hear - trees
                                                       Are Earth Mother's Song
                                                       Blowing 'round the leafy            
                                                  Globe; eyes of the world song 
    {{{{{{{{{{{{{{ Of the Mother   breath of the living   soul of the earth }}}}}}}}}}}}




***Senses evoked here are: Touching, Tasting, Hearing, Smelling and Seeing
***Elements evoked are: Water, Wind, Earth Metal, and Fire

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2008


Details | Fire Poem | |

Sleeping With The Enemy

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

See what you want to see
Don't Look at me!
You are staring you are watching;
Eat what you can't be

Come sleep by my side
The whole world is our playground
Don't make a sound
Stop clowning around

In the mist of the night,
You keep me from crying

I wipe off the taste of your lips
You kiss me starting at my inner hips
You broke me in a way..
I hate to say your love is better every day 
I deny you, the one thing I can't say

You are my pillow
Where I rest my legs,
Can you feel me~
This moment feels right
I just want to die here, 
Die here ~ 
Die here by your side

I sleep with my eyes wide open,
I sleep with the enemy by my side
Come here and hold me
After you watched my worlds collide
Come here and love me
I'm yours till the end of time
You can rock me!
Under the moon and its rhyme
I put it all to a side, how I hate you inside
I can't let go
I just want you to know
I'm a fool in love with you
Even if it doesn't show!

~SKAT~
12- 7- 10

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011


Details | Fire Poem | |

Little Fire

I witness you fading away, The winds blow frantically They are against us, as all are Little fire, rise in my cupped hands Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling? Little fire, brighten as I feed you This moisture receding from my pores must cease Before I drown this diminishing beauty I gasp, Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end My hands shake Little fire—my life! —I must keep you alive! Grow against all odds Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you, As you search for more fuel to masticate My flesh is no treasure to me, So lick me deep, my flame Devour these hands that shield you Rise hastily, as you burn Ascending up my arms, Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness Boil and evaporate every murderous tear— The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose Eat through every sinew, and every tissue, Every muscle and every bone that has grown For this moment and this moment only I give you every piece of me, little fire! So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder I give you my all, blessed fire! So that these eyes may witness every storm die And I may laugh at their futility!

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016


Details | Fire Poem | |

Friendly Fire

The campfire reaches
Lighting the night
Rolling the logs
Red embers take flight
Sharing our memories
Eating nuts for snacks
Spitting shells in the fire
The fire spitting them back
We laugh at jokes
And sarcastic remarks
Smoke waters our eyes
We run from the sparks
The conversation lags
As the evening tires
We all kick back
Put more wood on the fire
Center of attention
Entertaining as well
We become entranced
Succumb to it's spell
Unrecognized faces
On the bark as it burns
Enchantment transcends
All lack of concern
The warmth lives inside
As we slowly turn in
Our friend the fire
Has cleansed us again



   an original poem by the "poemdog"  Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016


Details | Fire Poem | |

Where Freedom Finds the Fire

You'll find it in the crimson eyes
of a throwaway photo somehow frozen in time.
When the past painted us like demons
with secret fury.
And you'll find it in the smell of a burning memory
like melting microfilm becoming enraged

(gifted with the freedom to deny
first appearances)

You'll find it in the cedar smoke
of Tyndale's earthen cage
roasting in a bale of hay for crimes unknown.
Where the fire of his message burned mighty
through a thousand hungry hearts that day

(where ancient ink once again
took a detour into youthful veins)

You'll find it in the velvet ash
of a (just one more) cigarette
being flippantly flicked into December sky
for reasons unknown.
Where yellowed fingernails bear witness
of freedom to live and freedom to die,

leaving not an inch of space to analyze;
for the fickle flames - much like life -
waits for no one.

You'll find it in the platinum tendrils
of a Colt 45, that so quickly took a life,
in the burning heat of an eternal second.
Where curled fingers and steady stare
makes it painfully aware
freedom is a pitiful beauty, ugly as sin,
and as right as rain

(ask the victims of Hiroshima --- they'll tell the same)

You'll find it in the vermilion sky
blazing brighter than passion pure;
stopping the world gears, of rat-race routine,
and turning a thousand rusty necks Heavenward

Where minds silently unhinge      (for a moment)
And fear itself begins to cringe      (for a moment)

When faced with childlike wonder
blind eyes will see.
A rejuvenating spark
this freedom can be.

And you'll find it the explosion of ecstasy
like a rose blooming in tenacious time-lapse.
You'll find it in the Cherokee midnight dance,
being warmed by the tongues of freedom personified.

Where Common Sense no longer applies,
for when freedom found his heart's desire,
you know it was a compromise.

Losing his mind, and losing his life,
in the process of a martyrdom
for all things beautiful and all things temporary,
in its earthly essence

... where freedom finds the fire,
you can't tell the difference.



Written March 23rd, 2016
For the Where The Freedom Finds the Fire Contest Hosted by Justin Bordner

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016


Details | Fire Poem | |

STAMINA

           STAMINA

Nowhere near a force of nature
Challenging a source of nature

Building with the will to survive
A small measurement for those who strive

Lessons when it comes to strength
Multiplying the time found in length

Stop and learn the sound of weakness
Hard to find when one is relentless

Improving in a mental task
The answers are found when we ask

Stamina mania, you and I
To perform bravely in all we do

pump for long
yet never strong

Learn when ideas seem to fail
The wrong action is to bail

Thinking, thinking what could it be
Will not solve the problem between you and me

Practice is  the best energy
Memorize it-- stamina will come naturally

 
                    SKAT
                   6-29-10

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010


Details | Fire Poem | |

My Big Fat Cousin's Wedding

My favorite cousin named Marge is almost as big as a barge. So one would assume, not knowing the groom, the guy would most likely be large. But he was a small man named Tim “As thin as a broom” describes him. While Marge would guffaw, Tim would watch her with awe and just smile for he was so prim! When the preacher addressed him and said, “You may now kiss the bride,” Tim turned red, for their lips could not meet. With high heels on her feet, Marge stood towering over his head. She leaned down while Tim stood on his toes, but for being in such a strange pose, Marge then came toppling down crushing Tim neath her gown while the whole church erupted in “Ohhhhh’s.” All was well, and thereafter, we ate; then we planned next to dance until late. But none could foresee the small tragedy that had us all leaving by eight! Marge had tossed off her heels for a glide on the dance floor, but when they both tried to dance, Tim got snagged by that dang gown and dragged as his bride was beginning to slide. . . Now shoeless, poor Marge could not stop. Toward a table with candles on top, they slid, and the groom then set fire to the room by landing with a belly flop. Poor Tim by the candles got lit, and we were all having a fit, for the fire got spread fast till the Best Man at last got us all wet extinguishing it! Inspired by the title of the movie: My Big Fat Greek Wedding & : Joann Grisetti's "My Cousin's Wedding" Poetry contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


Details | Fire Poem | |

Paranoid love

Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind, 
we're not straining, we're not struggling, 
we're not sinking, we're just fine. 
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried, 
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time. 
Do you want me all the ways that I am? 
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand. 
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand, 
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand. 
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind, 
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine. 
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep. 
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires, 
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire. 
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin, 
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in. 
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same, 
pleading and begging for more than just a saying, 
but to feel and to see that im not alone, 
with being in this love thats overwhelming. 
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark, 
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark. 
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire. 
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or, 
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out, 
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out, 
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close, 
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go, 
why these tears are building up behind my eyes, 
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires 
and it desires to be your wife. 
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true, 
tell my my dearest what I mean to you, 
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind 
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013


Details | Fire Poem | |

A Magic Adventure Of Peter The Pan--part II

Inside the Dishwasher everyone rushed!
Clinks, clanks, rattles, 'Ouches' and ' Ohs'!
"Would you pa--lease, settle down!" said Deb--They hushed.
"Now we can hear...let's just see how this goes."

Curious, Peter, looked out through a chinc,
And watched Vie and Chris-- approaching by twos.
They opened the door--and who do you think--
Standing there wearing her fine Jimmy Choos,
Ms Lost Sonnet!--spoke not a word--but winked.

Wilma Wine-Corkscrew, dressed in purple hues
Gave the 'all clear', and Peter spread the news.

"We're having a party Ms Sonnet, please,
Won't you join us? It's a magic party
For Peter", said Ruben Rotisserie.
Bob Blender poured her a drink--quite hardy.

Connie Candellabra was flaming bright
As Ms Sonnet swept past to the soft couch.
Carolyn Cookie Jar screamed with such fright,
"Quick! She's on fire!" Then Lost cried, "Ouch!"

"I'll save her", said Catie Collander. "Here!"
But the water leaked through her like a sieve.
Susan Spatula yelled, "Have no fear, dear!"
Yet, the fire held on and would not give--

Others tried, but could not stop the fire.
Then Peter said, "I wuw twy! I can do it!
With 'Awwy, I can fwy! Way up highya!
Togethwa, we can save Ms Wost Sonnet!

Awwy is my fwend. He tawks funny, too!
He's aw the way fwom Engwand and he is
My Supwa Cape! So I can fwy! It's twue!
No H's wive theaw--his name is wike this:
'Awwy--not Hawwy." So now, they all knew.

"Did I 'ear some bloke colling my name?"
"Yes! 'Awwy, me! We've Ms Sonnet to save!"
Harry Handtowel--AKA, Super Cape--fame
Was now on the neck of Peter the Brave!

With no hesitation quickly they flew,
Smothered the fire and saved just one shoe.
Brittle and weak, Lost needed more than glue...
"She needs magic! Oh! Paweeze! What can we do?"

"Peter...we only made enough for you".
Said Carol Crock-pot. They all cried, "Boo Hoo..."
"Then give huw my magic! That's what you do!"
So quickly they sprinkled the magic brew.
Ms Sonnet was greatful--then said, "Adieu".

"Peter, you've done well," said Anne Assam Tea,
"Let's all have a cup'a tea and you'll see...
"'Magic's believing in yourself, --frankly,
Do that--and you can do--anything!"

~©deborah burch
5/23/2012

*Special appearance by "Lost Sonnet", courtesey of David Williams...with much gratitude, thank you all for appearing ;)...Peter has many adventures to come...big hugs, love you all, cap'n deb

Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012


Details | Fire Poem | |

Silhouette

                Hot day has come to an end
           Strong smell of smouldering wood
              Pervades the ravaged outback
            Where spiralling smoke drifts up
                     Lazily as a full moon 
             Highlights the bleak silhouette 
                  Of a lone surviving tree.

          ----------------------------------------
          Paul Callus  ~ 10th November 2014 
          Contest: Silhouette of a Heptagonet 
                  Sponsor: nette onclaud

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014


Details | Fire Poem | |

warning sorry a bit sexual

It is a sun splashed day; the air is silent with the sound of waves 
from an ocean moving to the rhythm of crying gulls. 
The sand underneath my feet is warm and soothing. 
The crashing waters from a wind sculpted waterfall swims 
into the arms of its mother sea.

It is a private beach at a spot in the world 
were the Caribbean Sea and The Atlantic Ocean hug. 
It is a strange sensation of hot then cold, that tease the senses.

The young woman with me is my lover of four years.
 The golden rays of light from the bright morning star 
lives in the flow of her platinum blond hair. 
In her eyes I can see the bright clear blue ocean, warm, 
but with a piercing love glare that sends shivers up my spine.

We are young, in love and safe 
inside a perfect glossy postcard background.
 Her red lips and light drenched skin glows 
with the beauty of this perfect Jamaican day.

Without a thought I grab the back of her head, 
jerking my lover's whole body towards me 
locking her in the strength of my grasp 
inviting her to quench my desire.

I bite her lips before engaging in a deep passionate kiss 
and remove a barely there bikini from her statuesque figure.

She embraces me as I lift her in my arms 
naked for all the Gods to observe.
 I set her down under the refreshing flow of the rushing waterfall. 
She attempts to pull at me, but I deny her.

I hold back both her arms and use my mouth 
to suckle her all the time absorbing the beating waters 
that kneads my flesh, like so much dough.

Suddenly I set my angel free. She pounces on me, 
like a lioness in heat famished for the taste of flesh.

The world disappears and I find myself willingly trapped in a void. 
Nature's voice conducts an orchestra of emotion. 
We writhe in the ecstasy of touch. 
With the strokes of a divinity fingers paint a portrait of rapture. 
We dance now to the precise notes 
of an escape into the arms of serenity.

In one fluid movement, our bodies become one.
There is no end to the divine flavors we share. 
Cooling waters flame our sins. 
We explode like a building 
imploding gracefully to the roar of infinite sound.

Until eventually we pass out naked 
locked in each others arms. 
We find ourselves lying on the warmth 
of the fine white sand beach when we awaken, 
tattooed in the telling shades of a Jamaican suntan.

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Fire Poem | |

The Fire Rages On...

the fire rages on….

smoke hot and murky 
(like sodden dank  old whiskey)
burns the backs of her brooding eye lids
as she watches fires power frolic 
like a mesmerizing ghost
                  it consumes with licking fingers
the aromatic lavender and the intricate lilies
destroying so slowly 
                the dark hard leather
                           and delicate white lace
(it could be gone in an instant)

the quiet like a devastation spills into her
like bodies of the long passed
                                       (already ascended)
eyes like cheap gin
on a Saturday night
begging to be borrowed
in someone else’s head

forms of faces out of tune like an old scratched record
replaying into a wiped out ancient black sky
breeding dismay between what should be kissed lips

burrowing into flames she sketches with her ruby red
and shadowed pink mouth
(had it always been this way?)
she….with fragile fingers
                                    twining and untwining
(with temptation of a rose thorn)
      unhealed with lacerations 

does she own the capacity 
                                      on her own 
  to block the fierceness of the sun?

beneath the stale sirens
(pounding out a raucous rhythm
                                    on her heart) 
of a raw and frantic flutter
she hears the wild piercing
of wings beating in futility
        against harsh walls
rat tat tatting….rat tat tatting….
battering and scattering 
                                  trapped inside a cage

“fly free….just fly free!” 

she pleads to the lady she visits every  Friday
                 “why the hesitation?”
as she whimpers from the wounds
                  old and dead and long buried
in the ground beneath a willow

and still the fire rages and rampages
                                          steals the flower petals 
while ripping through the forest 
as she trips on tender heels of the never fast enough

smoke still burns the backs of her brooding eyelids….










Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009


Details | Fire Poem | |

Fire starter

Fury is a desire that needs to be tamed
Inferno can rage when one feels ashamed
Rebellious fire starter had no remorse
Embers smouldering were his favourite force.

He felt unloved like an unwelcome letter.
Abused in foster homes made life no better.
Life was a dark place full of perverse pain,
he hid so much anger, it could burn the rain.

Burning to ashes was his favourite game
he felt in control destructing with a flame.
Burnt his abusers, grinning as they screamed,
like a child with a new toy, his eyes gleamed.

Curious to see what sensations he would feel,
as he burned alive, he didn't even squeal.

Modern sonnet
30 April 2016
ELEMENTS Part 4: Fire - Poetry Contest by Brian Davey



Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016


Details | Fire Poem | |

Fire


Fire destroyed my childhood home one dark night,
Inside were all my precious girly things;
Raging, devouring gold flames billowed bright,
Everything gone- I wish dolly had wings.

It was a roaring hellish inferno,
The hot searing flames were unquenchable;
Our home was an erupting volcano,
The red sea of fire was insatiable 

My father said there was nothing to save,
We wistfully looked at the charred embers;
I was crying and mother said- be brave,
Sadly, my memory still remembers.

Trees and remnants still glowed orange with heat,
And we just stood there- silent on the street.

__________________________
April 19, 2016

Sonnet

For the contest, Elements Part 4: Fire
sponsor, Brian Davey

First Place 

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016


Details | Fire Poem | |

Dinner Grilled and a land Forgotten

You are far away now
Off in fields of gold
Dappled with evenings hot velvety light
90 degrees of separation has dulled the sword
 eased the pain
The grasshoppers chirp in unison to your labors but they no longer ache in your solar plexus
Nor mine
What sweet sorrow is loss and gain
I now walk down the very paths I have always so longed for
 the dark rich peat paths of happiness
contentment oozes from these fingertips as I write and I wonder if happiness is poetry
Or does it preclude it all together

The night sky fills with stars 
The stars fill with fire flies that burst out of them like infinitesimal lightning bolts
jettisoned to my soul

 he and I chase storms on decks swirled in smoke
We banter and bay at one another

 you are in a field of gold somewhere
or beside  

a river bed
The smell of the wet earth of shore beneath you reaches me… but momentarily 
dismissed as the ash of the bonfire of a week ago fire or the grill of last night’s 
unbelievably tasty ribs he concocted from air for me and me alone 

but then we shared with so many
 dinners

Lingers on my lip tips…the bottom edge

 I kiss him and mean it with all I am 
A being 
a re-being

Super beings are we 
all
and our colors wash 
upon the canvas of my life 
melding into one great magnificent us 

Spectacular are we
the creatures who so love life 
we give our only begotten selves to each other
and never ever forsake 
us

Copyright © Ingrid Showalter Swift | Year Posted 2014


Details | Fire Poem | |

Door o' Green

 
Door o’ green The door of green it stands ajar, I enter here in a dream, so far, A rough hewn table, here it sits, Big yellow candle splutters its, An ancient room, of meditation ….. As I look about the ancient room, A figure seen within the gloom, Svelte of body, bosoms loom, The sweetness of creation, She comes to me with loving eyes, No words are needed, sobs or sighs, And pressing close, and locked of eye, I hold this incarntation, The sudden chill of nipple freeze, The points are made with subtle ease, What can I do but play on these, No words of explanation? Moving closer within her thighs, I trace her form, though things do rise, Her bosoms rise, in breath caught size, Inpaled by the situation, I try to leave, she says don’t go, The fire is burning me, you know, Till passions fire has had to blow, Exhaustion’s generation, The magic place behind the door, Where love does wait for me and more, Fantasy says, yes me explore, A mental apparition…. Don Johnson

Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2013


Details | Fire Poem | |

Praise

Hell belches out more black-hearted ballads
                     than the accord of heaven that releases
                 only the innocent and wafting
                        lofty dreamings of a population 
               unversed in the ways of emotion. 

      They simper and insipidly bow and release
                delicate praises to the air as perfume... oh joyful
       white roses. Sweetly sing with your monotonous harpischords.

Not we.

           We are the fire in the blackest midnight...
              the mud that births monsoons of a terrible beauty.
        We tremble lest our own fire overtake us, we are the torrents
                  that pain your face with every gleefull beat.

               We are the dreamers of dreams.

     We are lovers, burning holes in sheets of purity and 
                invincible morality... we scream and shiver to our toes...
         oh haunting electricity.

          We are intense anger... the fury of emperors untold... 
     we shatter our enemies into the oblivion they beg for mercy
             fists bulging, contorted eyes stinging from the battle. 

         We are howls of bitter triumph, the sweet partakers of the
                lost cause. We are brazen to the thought. 

        We are the aroma of sadness that arises from the blackest pit, 
                                we are the oppression that snuffs out the candle. 
                     We praise from the very depths of our cavernous abyss
            our own masochistic knowledge... the fiery knowledge that burns us
                          as we consume ourselves.

Copyright © Levi Justice | Year Posted 2009


Details | Fire Poem | |

My Only Flame

My Only Flame

Love, like fire, is all-consuming,
And forever should be blooming.
Endless courtship is not a game.
As we watch each year’s seasons turn,
My torch for you will ever burn.
No regrets giving you my name.
You always will my soul inspire,
Forever be my one desire--
My first and last and only flame.

Originally posted in June 2014

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014


Details | Fire Poem | |

HARD HAT HEROES

There's a breed of Aussie hero who has served this nation well 
and they don a yellow uniform to face the fires of hell. 
When day temperatures are soaring and the high winds blow a gust, 
and our bushland is ignited it's in them we place our trust.   
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 
 
When their mates are in the hot seat and they need a helping hand, 
they will volunteer their services from stations 'cross this land. 
Whether country towns or cities or a bush fire brigade; 
they will gladly throw their hats in and will offer their mates aide. 
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 
 
Do you owe your home or property, your very lives perhaps,     
to the selfless, sincere efforts of these bold fire-fighting chaps?  
Or still sadly you lost everything, but proudly can attest 
to their fierce determination as each brave soul did their best.    
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 
 
So I ask you all to join me as we stand and raise a glass 
to the courage and the spirit of this fire fighting, class; 
and I'm sure you'd love to join me as this message we impart,  
"You're such true blue hard hat heroes and we thank you from the heart." 
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 

Copyright © Merv Webster | Year Posted 2005


Details | Fire Poem | |

Public Enemy -Over the Top-

******((Army of love))******

beautiful mattress
hot and riled explosive gift
nature at her best
************************

***((Gone with the wind))***

the music
listen to the moaning wind
biting to the pain
*************************

******((Over & Over))******

the rainbow
fingertips touch a few drops
kiss of dew
*************************

*****((Midnight Cowgirl))*****

Texas scat, scat
puts it in, in the muddy hole
Cowgirls get it on
*************************

*****((rattle my bones))*****

taste my sweet spot
touch it, feel it, make it move
the earthquake
*************************

****((American Graffiti))******

their limbs trace, 
breathing accelerates
pulse race, excessively	
************************

*****((Spice or Slice))******

haikus cake for two
hope you enjoy more than one
leaving you arouse
************************


Sexy-U-Contest

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012