Grieves the dirt beneath the leaves,
Leaves of smoke the forest grieves.
Dark the ash on iron bark,
Bark the shadows in the dark.
Bone, whispers the wind against the stone,
Stone the earth that strips the bone.
Deep the branches sink to sleep,
Sleep the silence buried deep.
Poet's Note:
Written for the Skeletons Poetry Contest. This dramatic monologue uses "skeleton of hope" as a metaphor for resilience that appears during grief.
Ash Into Phoenix
You ask why I walk barefoot through this frozen forest?
The broken road cuts me, and dancing fog swirls at my feet.
Every step is heavy and cold.
Demons of sorrow and despair circle me.
I thought grief would bury me in the dark.
Then the skeleton of hope rose from my chest.
He wore a gown of silver, with stars on its glittering seams.
He sat beside me, a golden staff in his hand.
He took my hand and looked into my eyes.
"Hardship burns your old soul," he said.
"From the ash rises a phoenix of hope."
"Grief is fire. Let it light your path."
"In darkness, you can still glow."
He smiled at me, at the person drowning in grief, and said:
"Grief is not a punishment.
It is the polish that strengthens your inner self."
And then I stood, because he was right.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
In the abyss, her pulse refused.
Fate cast her, broken, among thorns.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
A survivor bore her past black hush.
Through poison sands, his vow amused.
In the abyss, her pulse refused.
They named her frail, fit for ash.
Submission date:July 19, 2026
lake of ash
tears like cheery blooms
drowning in a lake of ash
you are the sunrise
petals rise from water grave
hope breathes through golden seams
Let me pen "verses in the ash" for you
With the embers of our passion fire
Take me to "where orchids dream..."
To where clouds wear a rainbow halo
To where the Zephyr kisses the cherry blossoms
To where fairies drink honeysuckle dew
To where weeping willows laugh
To where your love finds me lost
"Trapped in your pulse", let me tap
to a slow salsa,
rhythmic and romantic just for you
"I am the asylum of your ache"
I hold you captive with my charisma
You are the shimmer of my sunlit soul
You are Aurora's aura
in my kaleidoscopic world
With crab-like tendons
you crocheted your way into my heart
You are the song of the cuckoo afar
Who brings good news through her music
I am the bright butterfly of your benevolence
The humble hummingbird sipping our love nectar
The Angelfish gliding in your ardency
You are my magnificent Muse, moving me
with your metaphors and majesty
I am the ruby ring on your finger
Reminding you of our precious promises
~ Let our love rise immortal as Phoenix
from these "verses in the ash" ~
Black Mud, Grey Ash
The water struck
and wiped a village
from the earth
A dreamland of golden wheat
gone in a single thunder
Trees stand empty
forgetting the lovers
under their shade
Silence waltzes
through the lanes
with destruction’s tune
Bangles
schoolbags
a lone flute
now ash
on the wind
And photos
hold our lives
breathing
in black mud
Oh, the choreography of a crescent,
Where orchids dream amongst the subtle dust,
Weaving visions of vermilion wishes,
Signing scribbles surrounding the stars,
What a mouth-watering ornament,
A flickering flame frosted for eternity
Like the crust around a metaphorical mess
Listen to the velvet croissant curled up in the constellations of a poet’s sky,
Cradling along the corners of our eyes,
The buttery beam of hope is in the clouds,
Gazing with a golden gloss right through a bruised heart,
Might the tales of the torn trust be of any use?
To the pearly silhouette that levitates,
Like a luscious lantern, fully fragrant and flawless,
Guide me, Arc of abundance,
Feed me, in the tenderness of your aroma,
Never let these fingers wonder when to let go,
Make the time go slow,
While the night blooms flow,
Mighty frozen snow,
Merging in a magical merlot mist,
You are the verses in the ash harboring the silence in my tears.
"Verses in the Ash,"
is where my soul was born.
Where hot coals singed me,
as ashes covered my tiny body.
My soul was,
"Trapped in Your Pulse."
This body has me trapped,
as a helpless baby.
"I am the asylum of your ache,"
in time as it goes by so slowly.
"I taste your truth,"
the truth of life is bitter.
"Where orchids dream,"
is a place I wish I could live.
A place away from the hot ash and pain,
in a place of beauty with pretty orchids.
If life were all the silly words I wrote,
in my love's long, unwinnable campaign,
a losing battle, whose odds were remote,
it would have been lived entirely in vain.
If life were all the awkward words I spoke,
those signs that I could never make you hear,
which might as well go up in fading smoke,
I can only hope it would disappear.
If life were all the foolish words I thought,
dreaming things far beyond my humble reach,
I guess it would be, just as well as not,
scattered in the cold water by the beach.
So, take my corpse and my verses, in ash,
and drop them where no one can hear them splash.
uteric fire rises glowing across
sacral waters, delivering
umbilical vibrational luminosity
to crown —-
I am Phoenix from Golden Sun
arriving black vulture feathered
scattering ash you lovingly
sowed …
crimson mirrors my pupils
pierce each cell
penetrating what is to
transmute as Rubicon awaits not
rabid roaring apricot black ____
veined breasts exude milk
for next
i l l u s i o n ~
_________________
GOLD Placement Poem
Allpoetry May 26
Image Contest
A Kingdom Built on Ash and Sin
For eighteen years, I was reared for the blade,
A lamb in a house where the monsters played.
They hid their sins in the floorboard cracks,
And led me home on my own bloody tracks.
A welcome-back trap, a dark, hollow room,
Where chants in the shadows sealed my doom.
They tore open hell and flung me right in,
Trading my flesh for a ledger of sin.
I woke to the cold, completely alone,
Stripped of my youth, my blood, and my bone.
Now they sit high on a mountain of gold
Built on the back of the child they sold.
Then came the husband, a beast of a man,
Who traded my flesh for a new wicked plan.
Deeply in debt to the legions below,
He threw me to hell for a cash-out show.
But the pit gave him nothing; his gamble fell through,
So he fled like a coward when the cold wind blew.
Now a collector from hell has crawled to the light,
Searching for souls in the dead of the night.
The ledgers are empty, the debtors have run,
But the hunt for their blood has only begun.
The demon is tracking the scent of their fear
To seal every fate as the reckoning draws near.
Ash; that enlivens
The subject of death.
Kicked, blown up, child, wind - by us!
And how frivolous!
Ash; autumn-leaved.
By what you'd think is
An irreverence, does see one
Age-smiled, nothing wrong.
A step ahead
of Satan
a lifetime
on the run
A pitchfork in
my rearview
the outlook
zero sum
My energy
depleting
my feet begin
to slow
His flames are
hot upon me
my fingers
start to glow
The years I’ve spent
and wasted
the loved one’s
in my wake
Their memory in
the ashes
Gehenna
— is my fate
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
One, two, three, angled
Toes, fingers, teeth, mangled
"We WiLl bE fReE tO FiNaLlY sEe!"
The stomach's foot wriggles with glee
Amalgamation is the only way
Our Smith knows and begins to pray
No warning mouthed before the clasp
Gluttonous gloop scoops the foot in a grasp
Triple digits move swiftly and quick
The Stars lucky they are not here to see sick
Lashings, fingerings, scars and rot
Devoured by a trap the other sought
"HoW cOuLd YoU? wE WeRe pRoMiSed fuel...?"
The question dwindles, quiet and cruel
As our Smith digests, then takes a rest
And soon hears, newly, a crackling crest
Further over into the dark
We who have eyes see it stark
A fierce Furnace, the Fire's Cot
Where many Names are burned and forgot.
Velvet rooms choke on polished lies
Hard truths walk where privilege dies
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