Best Ashes Poems
Inspired by Edvard Munch's oil on canvas painting - Ashes (1894)
The fire of passion between us has burned itself out,
These woods taunt us with their vibrant whispers,
I am tired of listening to the leaves laughing
and the trees teasing us,
Oh! What have we done?
My whole life has come undone!
Shame squeezes my soul,
Despair clings tenaciously to my being,
Frustration at having fallen into this hopeless pit!
Look at me and answer -
Is there any redemption left?
Any way to go back to life as it were before?
Why has Fate tempted us thus?
My heart aches for all that is lost between us...
How have we succumbed to the lust of the flesh!
Beyond repair, beyond rectification!
My wild hair is testament to how I feel!
I stare blankly at my bleak future
(if there's any left!)
You hide your face now!
Why didn't you think of the consequences
before doing the deed?
Why did you lure me into your lustful trap?
Ah, Me! I know I am equally to blame!
What I thought was 'love' completely blinded me!
Now I am left to mourn...
No! now WE are left to mourn
this 'blazing' passion that has burned us,
this 'fire' that has consumed us,
this useless heap of 'ashes' left behind!
Hell's perpetual fires
Burning up my frenzied desires
I'm gurgling up a rebellion
Can you feel it frothing?
You sure have claws
That scratched my skin raw
The blood is everywhere
Do you see it spilling?
I barely recognised your voice
Cold and harsh like beaten up ice
My ephemeral lovesong was meant to be sung
Can you hear it dying?
Just one more knot
Tied up your body to the cot
I'm pouring the fuel around
Don't you smell it burning?
Goodbye my sweet love
Endure what you deserve
I've been waiting to burn you to ashes
Did you see this coming?
The ocean softly laps the boat
as I watch the setting sun.
I drop the flowers and watch them float,
relieved this day is done.
Ashes are scattered in the sea
followed by flowers of white.
I watch an eagle soaring free,
flying into the night.
Tears slip silently from my eyes
as the waves gently lap the boat.
I turn back home in darkening skies
while the flowers and ashes float.
Alone, I head the boat to shore.
My heart, bereft, forevermore.
04/07/2012
A Return From Ashes And Dust
When heart dares to life again seek
Hope comes gifting a little peek
Over rainbow and a bit beyond
Out far past shores of ones' small pond
Beyond mountains found in our dreams
Beyond greed and our worldly schemes
A return from ashes and dust
Finding happiness is a must
For there is no life without joy
Returning, one must this employ
Courage to risk falling apart
So hard to repair broken heart
Dawn cries out, rise to love renew
Others have done that, so can you!
Robert J. Lindley, 7-12-2022
Sonnet
Note:
Riverbank, watching waters flow
Living with aching pains in tow
Golden moon above shining down
Heaven above, its glowing gown
I ask, Lord what is left of me
Am I truly this fallen tree
Then heard is a clear booming shout
Open your eyes, look all about
Again strive to see, light is free
You do have a true friend in me.
The cafe burnt alive as soon as you
Set your patent leather boot inside
And walked right into this unknown,
Mysterious yet familiar world
Of witty writers and pious poets
With their poetic pens.
My tantalizing timid eyes
Met your musically amused eyes,
And I heard a symphony unsung,
Strange, how can you be just a stranger,
When your eyes can speak so much danger,
Then how much your heart would want to say, stranger.
Strangers don't sing symphonies,
Nor do they linger nostalgically
Like a locket on an ashen neck.
They don't even say hello,
And there I sat with my cold heart,
Wondering like a bashful bard,
What were the chances,
Those burning glances,
And you left aloofly
With your latte
Leaving the ashes behind.
Soot everywhere,
Here and there,
On my lips where
Your eyes lingered,
On my fingertips,
Wanting to write
The desires of the
Waltzing, woozy heart.
Stand on a hill and scatter my ashes in the wind that I may truly be a part of the nature that I have loved;
And after, whenever you feel the warmth of the sun, remember the warmth and the depth of my love for you.
When you see the leaves of the trees dance merrily in the wind or see the Autumn wind chase them playfully along the ground, remember the joy with which I ran the fields with my dogs who were always my best friends.
When you see the falling rain as it replenishes the streams and growing things, remember how I tried to nourish you in every way.
Remember the things I tried to teach you, how I was there for you when you cried, were sick or in trouble. Even when you didn't want me or didn't know it, I was there.
When you see the winter snow remember the snowmen we made every year when you were little and the warm hearth that was always there for you.
Hear my laughter in the wind and the pitter patter of the rain.
Feel the warmth of my love in the sun and know that I have loved you with all my heart.
Love,
Mom
Ashes and Thirst
Evil comes in all shapes, and all sizes.
We have all heard this many times... before.
But how truly large, or small can it be?
I want to ask this question you see.
I want to know the answer,
and I want to know why.
The water in the tap is no longer clean.
There are only 49 days left.
Las Vegas, New Mexico... is on the clock.
The whole city, will die.
Why?
Ashes from trees and flowers,
ashes from cars and trucks,
houses and furniture,
personal items
... and dust.
No rust!
It floats up in the air,
without a care,
coming down here and there...
as it pleases.
The ash, making the land
dark, and unusable
with poisons yet
un found, going by unnoticed.
They are the bounty of tomorrow,
containing all the sorrow,
from one bad instance to the next.
Then, the floods come from all directions.
They are part of the whole.
The water... now blending with the sewage,
and sludge, again... undrinkable by man or beast.
This story will repeat itself,
until the cycle is broken,
or the Lord returns.
How is your water supply?
Ashes fall like tears of weeping angels to the ground.
Lives were lost and will never be found.
It was when war approached in her heart without a sound.
If she couldn't burn the grief, she would release hell upon this town.
She wore her aching pain like a goddess in a flaming gown.
A queen dressed for battle, she left only her bloodstained crown.
Then her hellish fire was raised burning everything - everyone around.
"Ashes, ashes!"
Were her last words,
"We all fall down."
Tucked away high in the alps
There is a company that turns
ashes into diamonds, it is akin
to the children's story of Rumpelstiltskin,
who could turn straw into gold......
This story is about the soul
Memorial diamonds they are called
To remember the dearly departed
It's your loved ones ashes
that they turn into gems!
The jewels of the soul
Now your loved one,
though gone, will shine bright
Like precious gems forevermore.....
Journey of the soul
So dry your tears
Have no fear
Your loved ones live on
Transformed in the afterlife
Into something so precious
Diamonds!
Scatter my ashes
You can't keep them here
I know you've got me in stashes
Just let go my dear
Keep our memories
Say good-bye to my body
Please be at ease
Say good-bye to my body
I'll save you a place
Up here in heaven
I'm surrounded by grace
Up here in heaven
No need to worry
I found my way home
Clear your eyes so blurry
There's no need to roam
Scatter my ashes
You can't keep them here
I know you've got me in stashes
Just let go my dear
*Written on May 4, 2012*
draped close for the night
film scenes of you have no end -
mourning sobbing starts
3/18/2019
Poetry Contest: Writing Challenge 3- March 2019 - Senryu
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
3/20/2019 Poem of the day
Strings all over me
Pulling me backwards
Tying me down
Down the ashes of my dreams
My fear blazed like a wild fire
Their tongues scorched me like devouring wild fire
Their tongues had no positive utterance in my dream
I could see my dream in ashes
Despite scorching heat of criticism
My dream never died
In the ashes of my dreams I could see it striving
I could see a flicker of a flame surviving the dying fire
One complement snatched me out of a blazing fire
Like a helicopter, it flew me away from my fears
Up in the sky my dream withered ashes like a tree tilt its old leaves
It was not just a ride but a revival of my dream
Like a surviving little piece of wood in ashes
My dream is alive and has kept me fighting
My dream is now a reality; you can do the same with yours
Never let your dream perish in ashes of your dreams
Against The Ashes of The Fire
Thine eyes wrapped in chestnut leaves, brittle bark, red berries, and skeletal branches
Thy skies once azure with an aura of clouds drifting lazily over fall-kissed
Grass. The tears you weep you do so in mist, while your white pumpkin skin
Begins to shred and toil and while you cannot speak, you are crying within.
Deft fingers begin to break thy bones of earth, pumping acid into your heart.
With their oil rigs, their armies of carbon conspirators, they seek to tear you apart.
Despite the colours you grant them, the air you provide, thy people chain you to a pyre.
So, rise, revolt, strain against those smoky bonds, against the ashes of the fire.
12th October 2019
Poet's October Pantoum Cash Prize Poetry Contest
William Kekaula
There are many painful pitfalls to happiness,
and no one is immune to misery's tragic tune.
We cry in the night like a wolf baying at the moon,
sullen, soulful songs of heartbreak and despair,
drifting upon air. Of those memories; beware.
My emotions may seem as dormant as a volcano~
Silent but molten, setting fire to my dreams.
In ashes they lie, beyond the reach of my heart.
I try to write the plight of my life, but the light
turns dark, leaving me with tormented thoughts.
Expressing the bane of lost love in poetic refrain
is a rueful score of what once was but is no more.
I've written hundreds of poems of being smitten.
Bitten and wounded by Cupid's arrow, was I.
How I wish he'd missed his target, and yet,
never would I have known love's tender touch
or the gentle caresses as he stroked my tresses,
nor the taste of his lips sealing love's vow.
My protective muse refuses to let me forget
the memories of romance, the good and bittersweet,
so, I continue to write although I stumble,
suffering while penning another grief-stricken Sonnet.
Then more, still more, I write in lamenting encore,
a sequence of denouements that will tear me apart
each time I write and lay bare my wounded heart.
The fire inside me has burned out
There’s nothing left but a smouldering pile of ashes
Barely enough heat to spark even an interest in life
Funny that, now I’m finally free to live it
The fuel, my hatred, is all but exhausted
You died: the source. No more passion: it’s buried
Relief brings tears. Neither of joy nor grief
Emptiness flows through my dying soul
No pain. No feeling.
Only our ashes remain
With no phoenix to rise from them