Best Blaze Poems
The Blaze of Autumn.
.
She stood there like womanly Venus
Among the mild autumns
Blaze of rustic blaze of copper and hues of gold
Shards of filtered sunlight
Shone upon her soft textured silken tresses
And with beguiling eyes so full of beauty and wonder
Filling my heart with warm rapture and sweet delight
.
The whole world suddenly disappeared around me
Transfixed I watched the diamond stars
Twinkle in her smiling shining eyes
And as I melted like ice
I felt butterflies flutter inside
.
My thirst for her sumptuous lips was such
And my loving fingers
Yearned to softly touch
The warmest blissful breeze
Swept through my soul
As at last she gave herself for me to hold
,
Hungered sugar kisses
Turned into a feast of frenzy
Becoming intoxicated
By loves addictive heady wine
With shallow rapid breath and urgency
As we kissed the hours goodbye
Losing all sense of thought and time
.
Suddenly the sun shone brighter
As the pretty flower bloomed
The bee did linger
Morning dew bathed the garden
As shooting stars flew across the moon
Two kindred hearts aflame
Upon their honeymoon.
,
Peter Dome©2020.
Abuses hurled and Alcohol gurgled,
In the vortex of confusion
And blurred vision.
Intoxicated pleasure from surreal leisure.
Fooled senses and numbed conscience.
Wiped existence of love and kindness cuffed.
Lashed at the one he once loved.
Cringed and clung to her faint faith.
She and her cursed fate.
Exploding paroxysm of hate.
Her whipped ivory skin and bleeding lips,
Eyes with teary tinge,
Has the harvest moon singed.
Stillness of the night, pierced
By memories of bitterness-sodden years.
"Hurt me not", she trembled with fear,
"let me live for my girl, dear".
The cries colored skies crimson.
Just one reason--Her little girl.
As her daughter stared
With flaming locks and eyes that flared.
By Angom Amy (15)
And with the forged visage of thunder's sword
Her sentry slays monsters of gray
Freeing astral blooms to spark and blaze
Across the brief November sky.
9/01/21
Liberum Divisa 7
Sponsor: Gregory Richard Barden
Taken from 'Brief November'
Suffocating heat
Consuming all but ashes
Life begins anew
Should my home catch flames; ABLAZE
simply one collection shall I salvage
to spare my brain waves from becoming a maze of craze
ahhh...my beloved Poet Trees shall survive...as to my soul they arrived with much thanks
but NEVER from clever, contrived, silly, pink think-tanks
rather; they gather where my third eye winks then blinks
and just as the silly mind sinks to sorry new lows
a brand-spanking-new tree's seed grows
keeping me on my two FEETS' toes
fueling my soul with free flows; chill as "Chili Fritos"
freeing me from creaking sinks and freakish stings...allowing me to sing where the air
lends friends that bend, like ten thin yogi's zens and the wind blows like Hurricane Hugo's
saving grace in the face of disgrace, I increase pace, to beat Hell's fire, in this race
my Poet Tree's divinity, lies within tiny limbs and hymns weighing in on the decision keeping Rosy posy prosey in my vision
instead of hording my corny flicks n' flings, or rings n' things, like holy-cannoli rings, or roly poly bling, that I surely do not need or eat like knish treats or fish meat
so while it may seem strangely neat to see me refrain from placing fame on games n' things like Gnip-Gnop and my freakin' flips n' flops...I say "Let them flames burn red instead till they don't stop!"
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***Note to reader... the "POET TREES" mentioned in this piece are a depiction of an extremely insane catalog of thousands (nearly all hand written) original poems I am fortunate enough to have written in life. They are absolutely the only physical possession of true value to me, as they are detailed visions, dreams, and documented journeys I will NEVER take for granted! Mankind often tirelessly politic, fuss, discuss or argue about ability to "be a poet or a real writer" within academia and other literary circles. I make a living as a humble writer and I say, who the hell cares! This is NOT a talent, it is a very vivid experience and I am merely a journalist, just like all of you. I encourage each one of you to listen ONLY to the "WELL SPRING" placed within the guts of our existance~~~~~~~~JSLambert~plant your seeds and read the Poet Trees!~
Sunset A Blaze of Color
red, golden sunset
as the day melts away to
night's starlight glimmer
11/18/2015
A sudden scurry of light
flashed across the darkened sky
cosmic particles flew across
the horizon creating enough light to
attract these wandering eyes.
A fiery display like fireflies
leaving a trail of glowing embers
weaving a pattern of radiant light
through the darkened night.
A sense of cosmic games being played
by bodies as old as time itself
falling from heaven's grace
in a flood of color and flames.
Across the sky comets moving like balloons
on a string to the delight of children
looking into the night.
Again appeared in that expanse of space
the death of a far away star
blazing its eerie trail across the night sky -
leaving momentarily a ribbon of light; then to be seen-
-no more.
A celestial grand plan put in place
by other than man, only He could devise
such a thing to hang stars as ornaments
in the sky, leaving man to provide only
names for someone else's scheme.
Everything in life has its time and place
yet what more to seek, but not to find,
than a falling star to treat these old eyes of mine.
So whenever our call comes to follow these flaming beauties -
shall we go quietly to a darkened space,
or shall we like these celestial things, leave this life
in a blaze of glory - a lasting moment of beauty and grace,
as we move on to some other place.
I blaze in red
Inside your head
I scorch your bed
In passion spread
I come to taste
With thoughts unchaste
No time for haste
Defense? Laid waste
I come to seize
With ways to please
But first I tease
A sultry breeze
I come to light
the darkest night
and give delight
with lover's bite
I SEE
I Conquer
I...COME
Eileen Manassian
Horizon blaze burns morning haze
as black beyond brings birth of day.
Now yellow glow lights all below,
a glorious sight of glistening gold.
Warm air of morn whisks grey away.
Adrift, some soft white misty strands.
On thermal rise rides more vapour
to cling as cumulus cluster.
Aloft white satin shift is seen
fraying to form a fleecy flock.
Then eye of day in yonder sky
descending deep to dark demise.
Soon black beyond be back again.
Scents of burnt embers flowing over my windowsills
Charred are the palm tree fronds that
once fanned the breeze
Seized are the pods, timbers
Torches sparking shrills
Behold the ashes drifting
as they fall from my smoke-sooted skies
O but in b 'tween choking and tearing eyes
Bright orange-colored clouds shade
So fiercely they invade
If you look West…
The 'golden glow’ shall arrive
He who heeds the warning
and flits, may survive
A brush fire has lit the landscape
furiously waves its crimson cape
Tangerine smoke suspended in time
surrounds the hills all around me
congesting the natural scenery
Arousing anxiety, anticipating
the scale of the expansion its spreading
Swirling fire, twirling tornadoes
ravishing existence in its pathway
Flames so blinding that align the sunset
In my field of vision – I’ll never forget
Frightful yet surreal,
I hear myself whisper it’s not real
Nonchalantly, Winds sweep in firestorms
Notorious for its name the ‘Santa Anas’
Lingering, its breath; smoggy haze swarms
The brave battle the blaze, corral the flame
As the hills die, an obstinate inferno resurges
"To extinguish life" its aim
Like the Phoenix rising again and again,
but this isn't the Phoenix
it is something sinister
Guide us along the road to a safe place
Away from the drought,
O home, there is not a trace
Chaos turns on every cornerstone
I’m back where I started, I atone
Circling all areas, as others do —I do
With nowhere to flee vs warnings to eschew
Perhaps I’ll make it to the highway
with westbound caravans I’ll stay
There I’ll keep alive
If you just look to the West…
The ‘Orange glow’ (fire) has arrived!
I was caught up by her blaze
From the very first day
All that night it was her face
That kept reflecting while I lay
I tried to write to her a verse
Be that as it may
It didn't worth her gracious grace
She is brighter than the day
She's the sun in the morning
And the stars that shines at night
She has taken away my frowning
And at night she is my light
She is a lily, she's a rose
She is priceless to her toes
She is no mortal, she's an angel
To be vocal, she is my angel.
DATE: 24/04/2019
NAME OF CONTEST: 'I’m Crushing On You' Contest Info
NAME OF CONTEST SPONSOR: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Of Blaze Pascal the story goes
An infant of distinct
His mother, Lady Rae-Marie
Of her own instinct
Did suckle starving infant
When at last, he showed his face
To bless all those who set up camp
To wait upon his grace
Today is a yellow day
everything is so blaze’
I’m sure to have my way
If I don’t have much to say.
We snip, we snarl then
it’s makeup time.
The next few moments
are so sublime.
The trees fly by stately
in their own way.
I’m sure if they could talk
they’d have a lot to say.
Oh, this new highway
already in need of repair.
Their heavy load indeed
a loathsome burden I swear.
I see the farms have
already been plowed
the fruits of labor
always well endowed.
Another trip goes down in history
another poem get writ by me
and the world goes round just as before
yet changed, different forever more.
Charles G. Henderson
Feb. 25, 2020
Breathing the air of a fallen cloud,
The dust got stuck in the back of her throat,
Adelaine, whence have you come?
High up above from the stratosphere,
I saw you like a tear in the open sky,
Fiery clawed swipes of desperation,
Of trying to hold on,
Like a streaking comet, you crashed down.
Wasn’t the taste of Love’s sweet incense, rich enough to savour?
Wasn’t seventh heaven appealing enough?
Couldn’t the heaven’s pulchritudinous grandeur transfix your senses?
No, your wings were too heavy to hold you up,
Guess you flew too close to the sun and your wings got scorched
You burned out in the morning sun,
And though the atmosphere tried accommodating your love,
It got tangled with your anaphylactic sentiments and affection,
That you emitted.
Ronan, where were you?
Guess your supernatural powers eluded you,
No power of strength or adrenaline left coursing through your veins,
You mummified the superman that ones swept her away,
She plummeted to the arms of gravity,
She found comfort in the hands of a narcissistic bastard,
He crushed her soul, broke her trust in Love.
Mrs Adelaine died a heartless death,
Her beating phoenix heart, couldn’t revive its putter,
The sputtering of her last breath caught in her wind pipe,
The breath that couldn’t be savoured,
A feeling that would never see the light of day,
A light that would slowly lose its focus,
on a long lost Love.
Geniuskin
With age
the past grows
into an Autumn Blaze
its fire balancing the shade
Written 5/11/22
for Naani Contest