Best Charring Poems
And when will the tides turn against confident indifference?!
When will humanity cease
To throw cats against curiosity’s silver coated dagger
Another played out song
Another dramatic lyric
Shifting embellished overtones
With deteriorating tact
They spit posthumous awakenings
As divinity laced smiles, wither under a convoluted moon
Shedding retina waterfalls
Misunderstood
Pretentious anger becomes Aphrodite mediocrity
Wisdom, they never “put out”
Crippled tears
Become self-important struts within olive tinted reckonings
Lambasted butterflies
Stirring hornets’ nest
Uninvited
They dream for better days
While double-knotting gang colored bandanas
On eagle’s achromatic foreheads
Another Woody Woodpecker band-aid pulled from condescending hypocrisies
…
And when will the tides turn against pilot light’s mal-intent?
When will the flinty sheep
Stop wondering how these charring, orange fires began
Forgetting the 115 octane gasoline can
They hold quietly in their hands
©Drake J. Eszes
I donned a cloak of sadness, too heavy to bear.
My frowns, deeply etched from doleful despair.
Then he came into my life; blue eyes smiling,
like lambent skies after a storm, so beguiling.
He offered to help ease my emotional pain,
"Let me cradle you in my arms," was his refrain.
Tender whispers of love, this man possessed,
but his romantic notions were a quixotic quest.
His burdens were so much heavier than my own,
for his irascible demons made me sob and groan.
They ignited like hot coals, tearing me apart,
a cauldron of flames, charring my wounded heart.
They were an albatross slung around my neck,
Specters who turned my life into a tangled wreck.
I tried constructing a citadel to shut them out,
but they breached my walls by another route.
His cross to bear, but on my soul they were born.
In darkness, I trod; suffering, but not fully worn.
My aspirations of hope were drowning in sorrow.
I kept promising myself, "I will leave tomorrow."
Finally, I realized it was only myself I could save.
Armed with a prayer, determination and a stave,
I chose to walk away from love that went askew.
Trembling, I fled. There was nothing more to do.
November 26, 2021
This or That, Vol 8 Contest
hosted by Edward Ibeh
It is in fire
that each of us is born.
Fires ignited in consuming passion
to embrace the pleasures of the heart and flesh;
fires
rising from the smoldered embers within
unquenched, indestructible burning of the heart;
lips pursed to reveal
the sensual enticing
opening to come forth, give in;
touch the candle flames and burn
endure the torch within,
set the blaze afire
scorch the mind of thought
and melt in the all-consuming charring
of love;
be the slave, the tormented martyr
the agonized hunger satisfied
by the consummation of love
beyond all dreams, beyond imagination;
give in, submit, succumb
there is no escape, you are forever captive,
the slave of love forever
seared in the passionate blazing glow
of the fire burning unceasingly.
Slave to Love Poetry Contest
John Hamilton
July 3, 2019
Lustrous black hangs over pale skin
Gleaming green under deities sight
Wheeling toes transfer lanolin
Watchers skill shadows this neophyte
Who's damning dexterity draws in
The old woman watching weaving
Whispering advice to halt spokes
But fibrous boasts offend mountain
War horns sound an electric warning
Arachne's eyes roll with faster strokes
Athena whets sharp javelin
Circling pressure spills lymphocyte
An emerald eyed grimalkin
Issuing challenge instead of a fight
To save face in front of kin
Anxiously she begins fabricating
Charring wood, wisping smoke
Arachne remembers old sin
Clean fingers start recording
Twenty one episodes to provoke
Woven lust impregnates linen
Details capture birthright
Divine lashes flicker, flecking venin
Mortal legs levitate, threads snap and choke
Defiant victory from the coffin
Punished and reborn with aconite
To appease her guilt for relaxed reign
Arachne is transformed and hanging
Always spinning; a masterstroke
Our lamb has finally flashed his mane.
Crashing through the Bush.
Into the Armageddon plane.
Tail twitching, slashing fangs.
He's going to liberate a people shrouded in our blood.
Clean up those weapons of mass destruction.
Make an oasis out of glass, an oasis theology.
That open palm has turned into a fist...on a dime...on a dollar.
Over the top of a barrel of sweet crude oil.
To prove you're not a ***** like those tea partiers think you are.
You're the lion president, feeding our enemies.
While our children go hungry.
It's been a long, hot summer.
Did you know our schools don't have air conditioning?
But I'm getting off topic....
Fruitless war
your biggest blunder...to date
leaky intelligence
trigger finger
eagle-eyed bombs
charring children
lamb to lion
on a dime
on a dollar.
Over the soul of a barrel of bittersweet crude...
Now I'm probably censored for speaking against your wishes.
I could give a $hit.
Let the truth clear your opaque transparencies...
The pinkies are laughing hysterically.
Tea party, anybody?
In the hearth of my Heart there burns a torch,
While a furnace blasts inside my brain
A stove on which my Soul is scorched-
Pyre that kindles in dying flames
No Hell is hotter than my ire-
A searing heat, charring desire
Glowing embers, the blaze I enter
(Nothing more could fuel my fire!)
Cobham,
Friends we are before the the aparty sets in
Our souls knitted and knotted with dreams
Sharing whiskey and wits in the winds of life
Chattering doubts, and charring chagrin
Today, as foes we fool ourselves because of her
Pulling the triggers of revenge on each others minds
Does she really worth it?
Yester night, i saw her in the pool of lust with another man
Here we are contesting over imaginary love.
awoh awoh
Dark clouds loom beyond battered mountains,
cracking sounds seep through broken walls
and murmuring voices echo near and far.
We did not know where to begin,
but I had a strong feeling that we would win.
We leaped through block doors,
trampling on broken glasses,
tearing down make shift barricades,
busting wires fences,
bulldozing fortified doors,
and chiseling sealed up walls.
Our stricken faces dented with anguish,
broken voices crackle with fear,
spilling unbridled emotions in the atmosphere.
Smoldering petrol engulfed the air
charring corruption,
cleansing hearts,
purifying souls,
while tears of joy flow without control.
We journey through dark tunnels,
broken bridges and rocky mountains,
cutting and clearing the bushy path,
until we finally made the mark.
One chance, one dip
we broke the glass ceiling with a mystical pick.
©2013 Christine Phillips
The Muse
She sat on my bed, red mouth scattering.
Drinking my smoke and comfort.
I was dancing diet pill, with ear buds.
Pestering on my shoulder,
was her dead lovely.
I, am smell of sometimes,
Her, a voice of flavor on the tip.
A whisper of fever,
In her caves,of poor light.
Desire is focused in holes in ceiling tiles,
Ear into eyes, unable to divert.
Her wisdom , a days mock frolic,
Shutting down my nervous faculties.
Feeling small in her Uni-verse,
Mime tracing her outline,
Stubbornly secret,in her intent,
The words flint for wanting.
Adaptation the influence,
No one wants to see,
I loving a soul, be for ********.
In the moment stunned by her pristine.
Her works she read,
I realized consumed,
The famine mentor, critiquing me rightly,
Charring to a birth within.
And to give shine to an apple,
In her decreeing eye,
I became a heroin's lover,
Microsoft Zen for months.
Regretting I wrote weak-soft,
Now to coffee and wanting it bitter black,
Muse subservient to her a speaking fantasy,
As her red mouth scattered.
(for Silva)
Fire of the Forrest Dragon
I foretold the coming storm
The signs so plainly warn
Like sparks floating amongst a darkening night
The earthen moistures and cool air descending
My conjecture observed gave proof of my foretell
I viewed the sky’s nightning fire as prelude’s transforming
Luminous like the sun had touched the earth with her finger
I ran about telling the others we cannot linger
For the father dragon of all forest fires quickens towards us
As the people gather with arms folded tight
They linger like crickets chirping until morn’s light
Their interest shuns that which had been warned
Now stands as testimony to the truth I gave prophesy
Run you fools, run
I spoke the plea for conforming fleetness
The forest dragon has found us
And now takes wing the smoky sky a burning
For death rides this charring creature
~~~~~~~~~~ ^-^ ~~~~~~~~~~
Alluring nymphalid brandishing its ala
Cavorting trees as sultry monsoon gusts
Gleaming aureated daystar delineated in ripples
Enticing milieu under quixotic aestival moondusts.
Dehydrated rivers in a sudden, scrounging an incessant deluge
Red - charring enthusiastic sun fired like hell
Complicated seasonal change - puzzling...neurons evaporating
Tormented - dried terrain, vista...jiffy alteration - no well.
~~~~~~~~~~ *-* ~~~~~~~~~~
Deep in a dark cavern,
where dove morphs to raven
and flawless white it flaunts,
sullied in grim darkness
in that cave's chest,
i swell from a deep well
the source cursed,
not chilled bergs,
not gaping clouds
nay! not even a dancin' fount'
and on kissing an ebony lash,
dissipates damp
drenching the rest,
down i roll
on the gleaming hide,
burnin' in anguish's flames
not a dew on crimson petal,
nay! not even a surging vapour
and deep in pale furrow,
i flow,carrying all gloom
not a narrow creek,
not the turbid rivulet
nay! not even a brook
so i fall down,times maroon,
in days of forlorn
no thirsty land quench,
no mighty ocean feeds
nay! not fills even a poor pit
and the land remains barren,
no foliage, no seed sprouts
take no pain,
nay! not a sprinkle to kill the drought
i rise from cocktail of
despair and melancholy
a salty lemonade of
fresh wound and aged agony
the rage boils up,
sadness tames into a drop
and i arise charring my source,
swollen and drinking sorrows
soaking linen,
filling the wool
or at best a soft pillow
yes,you know me dear,
i'm a drop of tear!
Hair the shade of fire
Flaring like a spire
Over the sad space
Of her gypsy face:
Candle colored red
Burning down and dead.
Candle in a breeze
Of eternities,
Edna flickered faint,
Charring like some martyred saint
Scarlet at the stake,
Embered… for art’s sake.
Today begins a union blessed
By heaven’s gentle hands,
And as my feelings do suggest
Its strength eternal stands.
Into your eyes, my lover sweet
I’ll stare with great regard,
For mine do burn with ardent heat
Behind them once so scarred.
But turmoil’s charring disappeared
Upon the sight of you,
And moments forth I have revered
The passion since imbued.
Beneath this arch of Springtime buds
And Winter’s ivory lace,
My body’s true emotion floods
With visions of your face.
Into your softened hands I’ll place
A golden ring of truth,
And signaling His vestal grace
I’ll kiss your tender youth.
Yet when your countenance does gray
With wrinkled shades of time,
My lover’s blush shall not astray
I’ll think you more sublime.
And when I fall to final sleeping
You may learn to trust,
That our love I am safely keeping
Risen from my dust.
For you, my love, are truly mine
Forever from this day,
And together we combine
Life’s beautiful bouquet.
So as a blooming flower shines
In May when it’s anew,
To you, my dearest love divine,
I proudly say, “I do.”
Draw the embers into the wood
Stroke it like it's a three-legged stool
Blacken the charcoal of a dying fire
Fasten it to a sun swelling brighter
The object is to lick the smoking flame
Soberly thoughtful to call out His name
Should a flash shine brilliantly
With a radiant outburst of joy hotly
All about warming the frigid darkness
The ocean in which stars are as jellyfish
Will appear to the seers as Lumiere
Clearly my dear it's an Austral Hell
Toss another log into the house of Hades
Balance it on your heaven party gate
Strum the drum to conjure up the worship
The song that worms the hawthorn brush
Into its strip tease yank along
Moon moss to heavy metal music loudly
Pound the ditty along to His shouting
The anthem of a wench's wrenching
The diddly of concerted celestial voicings
Heard charring with a fire from within
The product of an incandescent spell
See that which is bright always rises twice
Conditions darken before they go black
Then Hell behaves with new eyes
And the story is told in pantomime
About a joy and how it lingered a lifetime