Best Bonfire Poems

As a misty autumn succumbs to winters harsh chilling grasp.
The sky turns bleak and hues of shrouding grey.
The ominous days unfold shorter and colder.

The remnants...

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~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...

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You lay upon the warm wet earth
now ripped from limb to limb.
Your present shape denies the girth
of your form in its prime.

A life cut short...

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 These eyes have often been solaced

by twilight's cotton candy pllows moving silently

towards a sky's velveteen blanket

and angels'silver gowns

By gazing over hills

to where old country...

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In glamor-light of sunset
a new crowd of cumulus clouds arrive
and revive a sepia sky-scene—
unworldly woolgatherers gather
spinning fantasy fluff into quixotic yarns
of debutantes dancing with honeymoon...

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Upon the doorstep of my paradise,
     You’ll find h e l l i s h pansies and t a i n...

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 Like an evening sun
I settle by the lake
Wearing nothing but my thought
as I recall your name.

I recall last moments
Green shades where we have been
Your...

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I remember
when I was a poor boy
and nobody loved me
mamma's tears felt like acid
burning holes in my heart -
I became breathless

triggers came without a guarantee
violence...

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The summer moon was swollen, blue
          A flaw that girl knew thru-and-thru
    ...

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“You try to be faithful
And sometimes you're cruel.
You are mine. Then, you leave.
Without you, I can't cope."
Rumi


in the kingdom of love,
nothing is simple,
not even musings,
so...

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(The memories are simple, living the feeling significant)

After conquering Beamsley Beacon due Southwest,
Rombald’s moor stood, while for centuries
within the valley the minute dwellings
of grey stone,...

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Is there an eternal metaphor for love?
Is forever a sinful oath abandoned in
an archive of poems with alienated alliteration.
Hidden behind simile and ironic verses?

Why does...

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Rice fields look the same except
for this one; this one who knew me
before i was born… and lying on her
fertile belly, she tosses the mist
of...

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Brighter than a fall bonfire but with the chill of ice, 
the winter sun haloes a gray and barren woodland;
throbbing, almost hesitant, with a florescent...

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Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for...

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