Best Catch Fire Poems


Premium Member Summer Solstice - My Midsummer Dream

Sweet summer comes in June and I will be 
Underneath the sun, for I’m awaiting
Midsummer dreams and my own chance to see
Magical small beings out creating
Enchantment at the setting of the sun!
Radiance can catch a wee fairy’s eye

So stones in a circle could attract one.
Objects shiny too might make one less shy!
Longer is this day, so before the night,
Sugared fruits I’ll put out too, then await
The fairies and stay awake till daylight
In case one comes. Oh, wouldn’t that be great!
Come dawn, I’ll watch sun climb high and higher
Eastward, and there I'll see the sky catch fire.


An acrostic sonnet, written June 1, 2016
Form: Sonnet

Waterfowler's Delight

Waterfowler’s Delight

Clouded marshes masking what may come.
Suzy's boisterous invitation over yonder grass 
Dark shadowed spreads set to entice some.
As the glow of the East begins to amass.

Newly anointed awaiting the first blessing.
Old dogs hoping the spark will catch fire.
Light of day upon the horizon pressing.
Nosing sweet dew upon the poignant mire.

Blue and grays approaching whiter shades.
Dark decoys amidst water hazed with hue.
Breaths of pink winds follow forecasted trades.
Nestling in, head up, taking in one last view.

Grasses, reeds, trees and limb begin their claps,
Rattling and brushing in a standing ovation.
Shedding nights tears, tapping coats and caps,
Encouraging shivers of warm tingling anticipation.

Night choruses blend with day’s percussion
Clicks and rasps of metal, wood and springs.
Last words, rules whispered in group discussion
Silenced by sudden whistling of cupped wings. 

Glancing at time wishing the watch was there
Edging toward one half hour before this sunrise.
A single, lonely, echoing report from over there,
Waterfowler's delight, peeling eyes to the skies.  
  
09/25/2017
Form: Rhyme

To Be Young Again

To be young again,
with flowing, natural
chestnut brown hair,
to feel the walk of spring
without ache and pain,
to have the heart flutter
when dreaming about a 
current love,
to be able to eat sweets
and not worry about weight gain,
to look forward to each day
with the idealism of youth
to be in tune with the moon,
sun and heavens,
to catch fire flies in Mason jars,
to make a wish at rainbow's sight,
to see shooting stars and
feel excitement,
to dance fast dances without 
losing breath,
to stay up all night and talk 
about girlish things,
ah, to be young again...
Form: Prose


Premium Member Never End With a Preposition

Our sun-worthy glance.
Petals from flowers
Bursting from your mouth,
Slid through the cursive lives we run.

We catch fire randomly,
In bothered sets.
But I'll love your hair forever,
Since my eyes were 
born out of yours to begin with.

Premium Member Rock and Roll

a deck of cards 
a roll of dices
monopoly
you go to jail
an other chance
you hopscotch the streets
or should I say the side walk
as for ever you liked the games
of chance and scrabble
your brain to understand
the meaning of all 
the avenue looks pretty good
from the stoops with your crayons
they come in boxes of your choosing 
and you can melt the wax
making sure your carpet won't catch fire
as you wove it with wool from woolworth
and where are those stores
just a story and a web you are godiva
and ride the horse to amazon
the nile you left behind with papyrus
but trying to find where the roll begins 
to wipe your ass is disconcerting
a smile and a grin for you to figure

Premium Member Part I of Indian Summer

Slowly, 
The air fills with blue, and the greens catch fire
The hammerlight of Summer
With little mouse-steps,
Steals off into apricity.

I divide my days
Between wine and responsibilities
As a child divides his
Between play and obedience.

The time itself, at its best,
Is wine to me,
Full of light and flavors
Vying for my attention.

The aptly named Sept/ember
Ignites itself against the skies;
Sets my soul asmolder
The inspiration I have begged and badgered
To arrive, does so at last
By its own rule, on its own clock
In the deep of the night
While I should be asleep.

I awake,
Dreams close behind my shoulder,
And find myself at this crossroads,
Inexorably older.


Math

I am a master of the Arts University of Only One.
If you having problems my words can solve them.
My voice can direct others, better yet they call me a prima donna.
My words turn into a masterpiece, watch my ability as my words flow out of me.
As my ink in my pen turns into a instrument,
Switching my pen into a matchstick.
I have a substance inside of me,
A massacre of rivalry.
As my words hit my notebook, they appear to catch fire like a folded matchbook.
Leaving my page in a blaze, words flickering like a flame.
Chain reactions resulting in the following process.
Giving birth to a new verse,
My words multiply as my voice amplified.
Thinking like a matinee lyricist morning and afternoon performances.
Expressing with great enthusiasm with divided emotions,
Something like a church service.
My words preach mathematical matrimony.
As my words appear on paper like an unsolved fraction,
The lines divide my emotions at times.
Instead of numbers and symbols I use punctuation as a division. 
Equals my equations a difference of an opinion,
Diversity of my personality.
Math is what these words are to me.
Words that can add value to your life,
Or you can subtract my advice.
Either way it goes I am going to leave a decimal at the end of this poem.


My words speak volumes
Artistic and creative
Talented in writing
Historical harmony writing a masterpiece.

Premium Member Cold Chisel On Flame Trees

Flame trees flicker on way into town
but nothing kindles their flames to excite
the sleepy town set in its dampened, dank frown.

All the folks lie barricaded behind trenches
of never to be forgotten fights and campaigns
about, noise, litter, dogs and fences.

'Smile and wave' the response to encounters.
Gossip and tattle-tail endless behind closed doors,
for everyone knows everything, and about everyone blabbers.

Nothing changes, nothing excites, change on timeout. 
The town heart's pace is fixed on 'set in ones ways'.
Everything in its place, nothing to catch fire, the pilot snuffed out.

The flame trees bloom anew each spring 
blinding weary drivers entering the town,
sparing them the sight of sameness, staleness, tedium within.
Form: Rhyme

Apocalypse Now

Four horsemen hale deep in darkness their
knives and swords tear open red flesh
the city filled with smoke while skeletons 
dangle from open doorways. Some are burned in 
fires rising while some drowned in the turbulent 
sea. A sweet cellist sits and plays alone among 
the black and gray smoke singing in the dust.
 A young Angel's wings catch fire and dead men
with quiet guns, face down in earthen graves. 
Men like rust and set in dust with bloody teeth 
streaming down their hungry face. No guns no
warriors left only black haunted houses with
gray broken gates. The skies are adrift with
smoke.  Planets blow apart and seize 
only fire. It is over, it is the end.

Premium Member Stateless

                         Stateless

			…thatched houses catch fire
sparrow tires from romping in the coned-flower chestnut   
     tree
				alights on the road
	tires crunch macadam
				sparrow perches on live telegraph wires
winds sweep the plains
					topple high-tweeting power poles
			sparrow haunts deserted godowns
caterpillar cranes tear down loading wharves
		sparrow unloads wings on marshalling yard
  trains shuttle screeching   now forth     now back
  	sparrow glides  then tumbles in air-pockets
temperature plummets
					snow flakes
      magpie in the châtaignier  shrieks disgust to the skies
melting snow runs down eaves
						air sizzles with imminent     
                            thunder
Zhen of a sudden clapclaps righteous terror
  The Eldest Son of High Heaven has high business to supervise  
                     tapeworms bore deeper into the ground
	the cicada scarcely calls to mate
   wet hungry ruffled sparrow
	has no chestnut tree to go back to    now home to transiting seagulls   tries to alight on spring-green spare Pawlonia 	chockfull of crows
	averts the mulberry tree à la feuille de platane
    fishing gear lie splayed against the trunk
       the dense dripping prickly hibiscus hedge
affixes
			house-full
  sparrow perches on the terrace rose pot
	the neighbour’s Siamese cat’s ears perk up
                sparrow rolls its eyes

April 24, 1997

From the privately-pub. coll. (rev. 2016): longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris: 115p.
© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Backfire

Everyday,

 Im going to constantly bug you 
with beautiful aggressive sarcasm 
that it will cause your words
to catch fire,
even before the match 
is even out the box.

Then I will dismantle your words
and display them like a trophy 
on my mantel for all your friends
to come and see at your expense.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member I Want But Don't Need

I Want, But Don't Need

Yes, "I Want, But Don't Need" is my waistwatcher creed 
     as I walk by each vending machine.
All those chocolate chips calling out to my hips,
     colored Reese's in pieces - obscene!
Will willpower surmount the cholesterol count
     of PayDays or some Rice Krispie Treats?
Can I even forsake the caloric intake
     of LifeSavers, the smallest of sweets?

Yummy Snickers and Kit-Kats, peanut M&Ms, 
     with three flavors of Hostess fruit pie,
I am hoping my brain simply vetoes 
     the Cheetos, Doritos, and Fritos, oh my!
Dare I ponder the truth of the harm Baby Ruth 
     will inflict on my belly's increase?
Soon my sweet tooth will bargain with riveting jargon,
     "Please buy it, I'll just eat a piece!

Then there's Hershey's and Twix, and six kinds of trail mix.
     And the drinks! Pepsi, Root beer, and Coke,
Dr. Pepper, YooHoo, Orange Crush, Mt. Dew
     render new resolutions a joke.
Then two hours post-lunch, there's that nice Nestle Crunch
     overwhelming my stoic resolve,
And the Heath bars and Dove bars and Clark bars and Mars bars 
     enticing my will to dissolve.

I am one of those hoarders of nickels and quarters -
     should ever the munchies catch fire.
Self-control starts to fail when those Oreos hail,
     calling out to my carnal desire.
In a fog, I hear clinking of coins, with lights blinking
     then eating and drinking. No sorrow!
For I just HAD to buy it, the heck with my diet -
     "Whole 30" can just start tomorrow!
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Hearts On Fire

Everything she did desire
He had, he was
So one night she looked to a star
And now her Heart's On Fire

His world too, was on a wire
Wanting her so bad, but not knowing how
Though he's sure it's her he dreams to wow
Burning desire, he feels too, his Heart catch Fire

Hearts On Fire just can't see, they don't know
Too blinded by feeling 
While not fast to show
So Hearts On Fire just keep reeling...

Together they could burn so much brighter
Faithful they'd be, and treated right
Candles dimly lit, they softly glow in the night
In the dreams of those with Hearts On Fire

So what is it then, that's keeping them apart?
United, together they'll fly forever
But apart, oh how they'll surely die
And Hearts On Fire are hard to stop...
Form: Ballad

Darkfall Posts a New Preview of the Battle-Brand Role

Fire School is in session! Aventurine has released a new video that shows off the skills of one aspect of Darkfall Unholy Wars' Elementalist role, and casters and and pyros-at-heart will enjoy a look into the Fire Mage. Feel like swimming through a bubbling lake of lava? Cast a self-buff and dive right in! Like to lob flaming balls at others and watch them catch fire? Then Fire Mage is the class for you!

Like its name implies, this particular mage uses an arsenal of fiery tricks to best opponents. The class focuses on medium- to long-range combat and incorporates knockbacks and area effects into many of the spells. For a demonstration of Dragonbreath, Magma Bomb, Heat Stroke, and other skills, check out the sizzling video after the break. 

You should know your role in Darkfall Unholy Wars. After all, your role determines a lot of what you're capable of doing at any given time, so it's pretty important. The newest development blog on the game gives a preview of one of the updated re-release's new roles for the Warrior, the defensive school known as the Battle-Brand. This is not a role for going out and making people miserable; this is a role for ruining the days of those trying to make you miserable.

The Battle-Brand's abilities include two self-buffs to reduce magical damage taken and reflect a portion of damage taken back to the source. It also features Foebringer, an AoE pull for all nearby enemies, and Bandage, a self-healing spell to keep the Warrior up longer. Last but not least is the ultimate ability, Stoic Defense, which makes the Warrior entirely immune to damage for a short time while consuming mana and stamina. Take a look at the role's abilities in action in a preview video just past the cut.
© Lea Hela  Create an image from this poem.

My Flower Love

I blink as I stare into your brown eyes,
Sifting through your features to find flowers -
I find a bright flower that never dies
And I could watch it grow in peace for hours.
What will I sacrifice to see this bloom
Into the warm love that I so desire?
I will face the inescapable doom -
You will stand anxiously as I catch fire.
You dispute, cry and protest as we speak
But for your love I will embrace the flame,
I will take in the pain and wither weak
Because I know that you would do the same.
You caress my face with your soft petals
And for this hopeful life I will settle.
Form: Sonnet

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