Best Ember Poems
Oh, my Inglenook my Inglenook
a whole life time spent within thee,
my name is Ember
I create patterns
of dancing shadows
a need to be stoked constantly.
I can be an inhospitable harrowing flame
for those that dare to glare
and too hot to the touch,
phantom notions I can conceive
when low and in a mood
and the chill becomes apparent
I die.
It is so cold out there
beyond the glowing rays
of flickering abate,
a need of more fuel to score
or the silence continues
till flame again breaks through
by the fire just renewed.
But one day
an empty fireplace
where life once reigned supreme,
someone to rake
through the spent ashes
to return to where one cometh from
so, the clergy tells everyone.
To the wind one is scattered
no void intended; one’s death
a space for the new born
a tiny Ember renewed
to inherent this inglenook,
the process to start all over again
from spring’s kindling
To winter’s deadwood.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
I cannot see or touch you now,
you're far away from me.
But in my mind your hazel eyes
are all that I can see.
I feel your breath caress my ear,
your hands that stroke my face.
But when I open up my eyes,
you're gone without a trace.
There's something turning deep inside,
an ember long gone dark.
It pulls me closer, tender flames
igniting from a spark.
I feel as though the universe
has turned its gaze on me,
and cast me forth to be with you
for all eternity.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
My love has not diminished.
I would not want to pursue, evoke
feelings of shadowed prey or some craving
to a fabricated addiction… I accepted that
you had grown weary and would not want
that I linger or impede future chances
at love or romance.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
There is an ember
with a feverish desire
to burst into flames
at the simple mention
of your name.
It remembers…
the dance, the illusion,
the dream where all things good
existed in thoughts of you; everything
new was interwoven with the essence of you;
and wondrous passion irrefutably emerged like the
luminosity of sunrise continually on display.
Upon your arrival, eternity became mine,
and, in a flash, kaleidoscopic color
infiltrated mind, body, and soul.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
You became my reason.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`*-*`
There is an ember
that hoped to fade away
in its assumption of
love’s retreat; rather,
it glows eternally
having never known
more profound
inspiration than that
sparked by you.
`*-*`*-*`*-*`
12/18/19
Scarlet ember
(look , smell, sound, taste, feel)
Scarlet--flakes of RUST , SEEN in ashes of burnt coal
Scarlet—AROMA of smothered froth of BLACK engine
Scarlet—CRACKLES, likes of icy BLUE hailstorm
Scarlet—memoirs of BROWN BITTER stones
Scarlet—FEET like crispy GOLDEN autumn leaves on ground
(rust, seen , aroma, black, crackles, blue, brown, bitter, feet, golden)
rusted souls seen inside and out
nobody knows where to stand
aroma of intensity around
black intentions always surround
dying, crackling under deep blue sky
reaching out to infinity and beyond
will somehow become part of brown soil
bitter or sweet, everything will be gone
used to feel like nothing would ever end
even golden memories will turn to embers and stone.
And so I write…
not for the clamor of being known,
but to keep vigil with what will not be spoken—
those hushed and hollowed spaces
where sorrow gathers like dusk,
unannounced,
unwilling to depart.
I write
to lay gentle witness upon the wound,
to trace its sacred fracture
without flinching from its remembering,
to press my spirit against its quiet architecture
and learn the shape of what endured me.
I write
to consecrate both the breaking and the becoming—
to name the wisdom buried in ruin,
the strange and steadfast grace
that lingers in the aftermath of undoing.
And if truth be told—
I write to recall myself
from the far edges of forgetting.
To gather the scattered fragments of breath and being
and speak them, softly, back into form.
For even here—
in the most forsaken hollows of the soul,
where light feels like a long-abandoned language—
something remains.
Not loud, nor luminous at first glance,
but patient…
and unextinguished.
A quiet and unyielding ember,
veiled beneath the ash of all that was lost,
waiting not for rescue,
but for recognition.
Something that, against all undoing,
still inclines itself skyward—
still remembers the sun
as if it had never been forgotten.
And so I write—
to bear witness to that remembering,
to call it gently by its true name,
to follow its faint and faithful rise
until it becomes light again.
Each eleven November
We all should remember
Every service member
Who left a glowing ember
just a flicker….
here now gone tomorrow
who misses who
Thy scarlet rise, thy wistful blur
I delve, into thine purest passion
and taste the ember
of our crazed pollution.
Thy lash, thy whipping break
I, hither under thine blooming scuffle
soothe the yoke of this moment
with the edge of epiphany's
final gasp.
Sink thine breath into mine marrow,
and live within me,
within this embrace.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
If there remains the slightest breath of warmth in an ember
let it be tendered with care
so that it may begin to brighten-
then burst forth into a dancing flame
stepping up to illuminate desires
once thought lost, cooled by insensitive means
Let it relight the way through the chamber door
and burn brightly for ever more
Sitting in a classroom full of empty desks,
You are sitting in the back and to my right,
A ball of fire not a dream but oh so real.
I am standing up in-front of the class,
Never taking my eyes off You.
A little ember of fire breaks off and touches me.
I am a bit scared but fascinated that You would do this,
But I continue to stare at You wanting more nonetheless.
My stare is as fixed a wolf upon its prey, my hunger and
Thirst for You has become the same.
Little fire, You said You liked to be pursued and though I
Have walked after You before, my interest, my focus become
Much more full in measure.
My pursuit of You my Lord is one of expectation,
Wanting to devour You and merge with You more fully.
You have told me that I make Your river glad and that I
Wear the crown of joy.
Now as I wait, You feed me two slices of Your fire.
I let You place them in my mouth and now I am admittedly
Greedy for more my beloved.
The fire burns what is still not right on the inside of me,
Yet satisfies my hunger and thirst in every way.
But still delicious I want more and more.
I am so glad that You want to make me Your wife
Even more fully, for I want our romance,
Our love affair to be forever.
S.E. Clark copyright 2015
Springs heat - not but a dying ember
Shades of green fill the air. and all around.
In bright blue skies, seen, shadows crawl the ground.
Spring fever no longer seems to melt
away winters chill- all that is felt.
Buds do open and they do flower.
Aged, never seems to find the hour.
Seasons have passed us by.
Little is left, but for us to try.
Wipe the moisture from our eye.
No longer sit back and cry
Ah !, if only the goddess Aphrodite,
could spread her mystic reality ?
If only she’d sprinkle her sensual, passionate powers
upon the souls of us Ancient One’s, remaining hours.
Upon occasion, arise, know no finality
as life, upon us showers inevitability.
Love, passion aplenty, by the ton.
To know – once again – all that fun.
All that passion, that youthful beauty.
Oh, to know - in depth – a little cutety.
Oh, to know once again that our seeds
– buried deep – could germinate, fill needs.
Crawl out of the ground, reach out, touch,
permeate those heavenly bodies, feel so much.
About what fertilized our flowering
as we stood tall, towering
over life that made us a whole lot richer then,
during those blossoming years - younger men.
No longer, yet, no more empty then before
even as time begins to close the door.
So my Beauties, thank you all, for the all
you gave to make this garden grow – before the fall -,
before experience, life, fate, age made the call
that brings life to that last walk down the hall.
That hall of mirrors reflecting life – glorious –
in its all as we look into it – wondrous.
B. J. “A” 2
May 15th 2004
Without the comfort of your hand to hold
Aimlessly, I wander about in the dark
No hint of warning had been foretold
I am a dying ember without a spark
Forbearance and faith is what I need
and a love so true that I might heal
My painful wound continues to bleed
Emotional heartache, I cannot conceal
A Fading Ember
In shadows cast by waning light,
A love once vivid, now takes flight.
Our candle that once burned so bright,
Now stings of a cold, harsh night.
I see the distance in your eyes,
Reflecting echoes of love's goodbye,
Emptiness in your silent stare,
A longing that lingers in the air.
A love that danced has lost its grace,
Fading memories, a bitter taste,
Sarcasm drips from lips once sweet,
A love turned sour, our hearts retreat.
In the veins of passion, ice takes hold,
Your touch, once warm, now a numbing cold,
Isolation wraps around us tight,
Loneliness now our silent plight.
The flame that once danced, now just a wisp,
A puff of smoke on a burnt-out wick.
A love once radiant, turned to rust,
In silent ruins, we return to dust.
Chandelier versus ember
Chandelier
Aureate, resplendent
Swinging, glistening, attracting
A steady hope; A crushed dream
Burning, defeating, fading
Dark , dull
Ember
© Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
14th September2015
Once a raging fire,
that burned so long ago,
was reduced to a tiny ember,
that had all but lost its glow.
That mighty fire I thought had died,
that left ashes in my heart,
was brought to life again once more,
from the tiniest of sparks.
All it took was a simple word,
and the fire flared and grew.
Burning as it did before,
with memories of you.
Again that great inferno was born,
from an old familiar voice.
Burning wildly out of control,
without reason, thought, or choice.
Who knew a fire was waiting,
patiently there to grow,
from a tiny little ember,
that had all but lost its glow.