Sotto Poet Poet Free verse

Pyre Pedestals

Written: July 30, for contest Sponsored by: Rob Carmack 

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I sketch your pedigree in marrow script,
each speech slice out of salt spines— 
No ledger can fetter the flow of flame,
or control the smell of storm-born mind.
Wombs are pedestals blazed by pyre,
where armor converts into full ember.

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Paghunda Zahid August 2, 2025 at 11:15 AM That's a brilliant write. I truly enjoyed reading it. Best wishes ..!

Susan Ashley August 1, 2025 at 1:39 PM Dear Lasaad, your poem is composed with a passion that feels primal, inborn like one's ancestry. The use of rich intriguing words like "marrow", "spines", "wombs" give your imagery a deep, visceral yet soulful feeling reaching through one's body, soul and mind. Congratulations for your success in Rob's contest. Warmest wishes, my poet friend.. ~Susan

Valsa George July 31, 2025 at 10:03 PM So profound with the use of choicest words. The title itself is so connotative. All the best, dear friend.

Krishnanand Guptar July 31, 2025 at 8:15 AM Congratulations dear poet friend on your win in this contest with a metaphorical gem shining apace. Particularly appreciated the last two verses. Wishing you a bright day filled with light.

Rob Carmack July 31, 2025 at 7:03 AM You never disappoint. Thank you for supporting my contest with your talent. Sotto Poet July 31, 2025 at 8:27 AM Rob, I sincerely appreciate your efforts in hosting such exceptional contests. I greatly appreciate my excellent placement in your contest.

Victor Buhagiar July 31, 2025 at 2:23 AM A poem one cannot help but admire. A quatrain so well composed.

Bj Legros Kelley July 31, 2025 at 2:08 AM Wow, so beautifully poetic Sotto.

Bill Baker July 30, 2025 at 10:04 PM Great vocabulary in this one, Sotto. " where armor converts into full ember". It seems to indicate a strength and will within that will not be broken by distraction or other forces from without. You should need no luck with this entry into the contest. A winner in my mind. Have a pleasant weekend, my dear friend. Bill

Kim Rodrigues July 30, 2025 at 5:09 PM Love those middle lines!

sara Etgen-Baker July 30, 2025 at 4:57 PM interesting title...liked it, though. These are my favorite lines: No ledger can fetter the flow of flame, or control the smell of storm-born mind. I appreciate the depth of your poem with its statements about truth. Best wishes with the contest, dear Sotto!

Paige Hind July 30, 2025 at 1:17 PM Deep, Sotto. I felt a lot of power.

Jay Narain July 30, 2025 at 11:27 AM Your poem envisions identity, creativity, and heritage not as neatly logged and recorded, but as living fire—unfettered, ancestral, primal. It asserts that some truths are too visceral to ledger, too volatile to tame.