Best Immolation Poems
"Immolation"
I move into you
like a roaring Queensland Summer
You’re overtaken by heat, yet think I’m unobtainable
I’m too far away
A grown-arsed man
owns the footsteps he walks in
travels his world
scared of a woman
gone
grown-arsed girl
“Man Oh Man
she’s so not safe,
she’s so non-linear”
I move into you
like a roaring Queensland Summer
You think I’m unobtainable
I’m too far away
The fuel is laid
Sparks lit
communication is at least laid
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
“Three simple rules in life: If you do not go after what you want, you'll never have it. If you do not ask, the answer will always be no. If you do not step forward, you will always be in the same place.”
"I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth - and truth rewarded me."Simone de Beauvoir
Born as a liberal Jew in Germany, An young Diarist famed posthumously.
She is none other than Anne Frank,
Whose mettlesome life prematurely sank.
With Hitler and Nazis came to power,
Persecuting Jewish people out of rancour.
Anne's family moved from Germany to Netherland,
But unfortunately became the subject of persecution.
Soon they moved to a secret hideout,
Finding no other alternative wayout.
However one day came the bolt from the blue,
Her family became the captive of World War ll.
The Germans took them to the concentration camps,
Father got separated, mother died of starvation.
Emaciated, shivering body and infected with scabies,
Anne's ebullient life began to cease.
Head shaved, strip naked and hard to recognize,
Anne ultimately embraced death with dreamy eyes.
Black wings are beating a sharp tattoo,
A-tattering on your skull.
A raven is perched on all of you
There is: a bone-white hull.
The love of your youth, she floats in mist.
Your triumphs and brave defeats
And manhood expire. No dreams exist.
Just bones, where the black wing beats
The pale faced young damsel
By evening turned into a blushing bride
Her cheeks made red with rouge
And her lips glossed in cherry red
But the makeup artist, before
Seeing the magic of his deft touch
By some sudden mental derailment
In a bid at self immolation,
Set fire to himself
Badly burned by the inferno
He plunged into the waters below
One more attempt at suicide?
Or a frantic attempt to save himself,
From an act, he impulsively rushed into?
Yet another question remains
‘Can flames turn him to ashes?’
Or water, drown his resilience?
July. 15.2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Poetry Contest
Inevitably, tears of love, of sorrow,
tears that stem from my heart, flow
whenever I think of your sacrifice,
the ultimate payment of a high price.
You were a principled, brave man
who refused to budge from your plan,
one that would shake a nation, the world!
Watching the horror left my soul whirled,
shattered, shaken, sad. You deserved
better than your fate which all unnerved.
Thoughtful you are even though you’re dead,
asking permission to have your ashes spread,
if the citizens would allow your last request:
in a free Palestine, liberated after conquest.
I HAVE FIVE THINGS TO SAY
Heaven above crying,
With the virtue of living blurred,
Hell below obscure,
Today the sun got murdered.
The storm is coming,
Putting heaves of dead finally at peace,
Leaning in the god smiled,
He knew when his existence ceased.
Today the sun got murdered,
And no one heard it scream,
Nothing but empty sky remains,
Its ashes went down the stream.
Memory hit, agony in the heart,
Tarnished skin, crushing with the dart,
The last thread of skin broke,
Taking with it the last leaf,
Memory gone,
Relief?
Today the sun got murdered,
And now the clouds have lost their way,
They stood here for a while,
Ah! This desperate fray.
The darkness took over,
Waiting for the dead to rise,
All that is left are the unheard promises,
Unsaid words and the unseen ties.
Today the sun got murdered,
And the murderers ran free,
The solitary they were confined in,
Hung the sun on the tree.
Already dead still trying to breathe,
Waves crashed in pain,
It said goodbye instead of goodnight,
Smiled and turned out the light.
Today the sun died,
And left many question immortality,
Killed and left alone in silence,
No scope for clarity.
The murderers dead too,
Slaughtered self with rage,
Laughter cheered the crowd,
Today the sky was beige.
The clouds stood still,
Waiting for world to embody,
As the people stopped living,
Leaving their bodies.
Both of me became an alcoholic, at last.
Time to split into a third.
The first was too funny, not focused enough. Fun, but useless, cute but upside down; loved by all except the self; living for a dream.
The second was too scary; terrifying with empire focus; intimidating professors and local chickens, keeping them awake at night.
Drinking turned one into the other, and vice versa vis-a-vino: A party trick.
The fun has gone and I don't know which one the world wants anymore.
It never mattered which I wanted -- not that anyone ever asked -- but seasons change and I need new shoes.
Both selves have fallen, to the drink at last,
A time to forge the third, and split anew.
The first: Too funny, fleeting dreams have passed,
Too light for purpose, upside-down yet true.
Beloved by all but self—so lost, so sweet,
Its hollow laughter echoed through the night.
The second, cold with empire’s pallid beat,
Kept the professors' chickens up in fright.
The wine—transforming masks of elf and self,
A cruel trick, as one dissolved to two.
The world feigns wait, confused, upon a shelf,
Not knowing which of these it wishes true.
Yet seasons change, and with them comes the call:
To walk as one, or split, to rise from fall.
to free this specter from its host
caught in a body like bear trap
a house made of arms that can't let go
my hearth’s flame is selfish,
unwilling to part with smoke
without separation i will choke
at the memory of a pleasant smog
sewn into the wrists of silver tinged fingers
there is rust in my bloodstream
the wear and tear of my engine
corrodes away a heart that
deserves to be at peace
so please exorcise me with shock
i felt you’d never want to leave
You can destroy yourself
When you allow emotions rule you
Especially when you are being manipulated
Anointed in Kerosene to confer in agony with ignited desecration of mortal flesh to bone, seared by melting anguish writhe blistering contortions through a suppressed discomfort in furious continual thresh heshers pernicious by physical immolation.
Written on Apr/27/2024