Best On Fire Poems
God’s inspirational napalm set ablaze upon the trees of autumn,
Welcome to the ascension of the fall season, bursting forth onto
The leaves once evergreen.
Colors of crisp snapping, auburn reds, fires aglow oranges, and
Subdued darken browns to contrast the mixtures blending, created
By the masterful hands of a higher powers creativity.
Tender timbers mutated into a glorious display of light and color,
Splashing the palette array of natural beauty.
Blessed in magnificence the lord hushes and stills, the mortal heart,
As inspiration captures the poets ink pen to write,
Upon the empty parchment page.
Strolling lovers huddle together, beneath a wondrous tapestry,
A canopy of leaf petals, that descend as it is caressed
By a chilling fall breeze.
Whispering softly in each others ears tender words
Sweet nothings, youth in utter splendor wrapped
Embraced in loves devotional shawl of emotions.
Behold vows promises of perfection uniting
These spirits of fall, united against the winter
Winds forever more.
Cold and slain lay the roses of summer, yet within
The wild heart of innocence, the flame of desire
Shall not flicker out, nay it lives strong in the young,
A blossom of delicate distention is true loves flower.
Oh in timeless remembrance as years will pass,
And only one shadow remains between these two
Souls united joined in life as one.
Shall beyond another single silhouette awaits,
Tracing these burnt ambers of autumn from long ago,
In cascading showers of melted colors of memory.
In angels tears a gentle rain does fall, yet a smile
Crosses the face of this eternal love, a blessings
Promise in one word spoken, always.
God’s inspirational napalm set ablaze upon the trees of autumn,
Welcome to the ascension of the season, bursting forth onto
The leaves of the evergreen.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Your seawater stirs in me where fire balances high on oil
You clasp my candlefire, wick's motioning coil —
A sweating kind of missing
A burned open kissing
The glass shared between us two
Flames in our faces as we move
To the synchrony past
Our dressing these masks
These temperatures rising in veins of you and I
God, brief tourniquets in time —
Where I drown my highbrow in your heat
This hard body now heartbeats
This translation
My intoxication
We live today in a world of great tumult
And of rising uncertainty and anxiety
Which pervade the world stage like a cancer
Despite soaring technological advances
Our environment and our home Earth
Are bearing an unimaginable burden
People are wondering what must be done
To right these wrongs and adjust our course
Before we turn the corner to “No Return”
Tyranny, Poverty, Disease, and War
Are still with us today since the beginning
Of time and are mankind’s greatest shame
God may be with us intellectually
But mankind must be self-reliant
To survive an inattentive, distant deity
People see answers to these enigmas
Sounds are made, echoes are heard
But nothing comes back in response
Frustration reigns supreme for many
Fear and anxiety multiple all concerns
There can never be easy answers
*******
Tyranny still reigns alive in many countries
As the actions of tin-eared dictators abound
And are on ample display for all to see
Poverty is still a shameful, terrible curse
Which afflicts the most unfortunate
And is paid lip service by the wealthy
Disease is a scourge still in our world
And still felt by those most in need
And never enough is done to change this
War is the ultimate insult to mankind
And its wide-felt swath and affliction
Plagues yet our modern, enlightened world
What to make of all these challenges
Is not easy for any of us to digest
And let alone understand why
Yet understand, comprehend we must
If we want a better world for all to live in
A Sisyphean task at its very best
Man still holds the key to make change
Positive and real for our troubled Earth
But can it ever be really so in the end
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
Schoeningen, Germany (October 16, 2014)
(Tercet unrhymed poetic format)
You set me on fire
Sizzling, blazing, devouring fire
Hot licking flames
Infernally hot
Temperatures skyrocketing
Scorching flares
Shooting out of your body
Searing into mine
One more moment
And I’ll cease to exist
The heat excruciating
Flames spread across my body
A wildfire from within
Combusting again and again and again….
With nothing left to consume
The fire starts to die out
Slowly, imperceptibly
I feel some coolness
A little here and a little there
As the fire recedes
Leaving smoldering embers
In its wake
I take a deep breath
Amazed that I’m still alive
In the warmth of your nearness
I open my eyes
And look up at your face
Only to see
An eternal flame
Still burning in your eyes!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
SEX ON FIRE
She silently retires to his secret chamber.
Knowing he was waiting for her...
The doors were locked
the windows closed.
Her backless bodycon...
abandons her ...
as he removes all her layers...
she reciprocates his actions ...
he grabs a fistful of her hair.
she summons herself to his passion ...
perspiring profusely ...
he leaves his Mark on her...
And the mirror witnessed their SEX on fire ...
Always & forever
Red fiery @2017 copyright
** A Poetry Avalanche **
Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
alrady so tired…
It’s as if
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
retreating
From the inspirations wrought from
burning memories, preferring
The refreshing lure of
allegories and fairy tales
to aid my creating.
There are still three more hours
Marked off in my planner to turn
Words into exemplary verses.
However, ink now covers every page
Printed out, such that all my papers
appear all scribbled and smeared.
So, I’ve quit scrawling in this diary
And brought my markers out, to kneel
Down here and write
All over
Across our living room’s floor!
————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/27/2023
World's on fire
Hope is crumbling and the world's on fire
Failed humanity clutches to the pyre
Empty deception fuels hallowed liars
flames climb higher reaching to the spires
Holy buckets raised on high to scorched sky
No relief for them as their well's run dry
Worldly stars display a facade so wise
Only death resides in their lying eyes.
April 26,2020
John Derek Hamilton
catastrophic year
australia is on fire
koalas dying
apocalyptic
more than one hundred degrees
affecting ocean
year of the fires
devastating marine life
australia crying
debilitating
four hundred eighty million
animals have died
catastrophic year
australia is on fire
koalas dying
Showering
Knob all the way left
Skin on my calves
Burning crimson
Tingling with heat
Scrub it off
off
off
Scratch the fingerprints out
Of my screaming pores
Pull every hair
He ever touched
Out of my scalp
Replace myself
With new pieces
Of me
when accused of blither-blather
seek shelter in the moment, rather
than plunge right in confrontationally
into a bottomless pit of calumny
remember to count to ten again and again
ramp it up to a thousand, don’t pretend
if you’re still hot, don’t plead that you’re not
or let bygones be bygones and all that rot
‘coz the chickens always come home to roost
when and if you’re still juiced
you just might slice that swollen face wide open, catsup-red
then hallucinate as into grinning spiders it is shhh-RED
*******
If the horror you've just read
fills you with naught but dread
Try not to lose it, jughead ~ pray hard
before you go to bed
~ Dr. Jack Ell
Kamala said she has only worked for the American masses
She did work for Speaker Willie Brown as his mistress
Even her husband loved his mistress
So much he had her abort their fetus
She doesn’t support parent's rights
She doesn’t support the police
She doesn’t support the State of Israel
She doesn’t support the borders of America
She does support the hammer and sickle!
honey, you are not responsible for the skeletons hidden in his closet.
rinse. repeat.
you are not responsible for the bones threatening to spill out.
he can call you a doll and watch your cheeks redden,
but honey,
you are only a doll because he has taken hold of your strings.
you are not his marionette doll,
not a circus attraction
with his name on the door.
honey, he is not the ringleader.
has no one told you, you aren’t
responsible for taking apart his ribcage and fitting yourself beside his heart;
that you are not responsible for the emptiness you find there.
he can kiss you sweetly and fill you with butterflies,
but no one told you that butterflies turn into bees.
and honey, more often than not,
they sting.
War if fought by those who have firm ideas
By those who are inflexible
Those who have never lived on the streets
We stand up to set the world on fire
To make her think
To open her horizons
War is fought by those with dogmas
That encourage young women to wear black veils
Those who say we do not judge, but never stop
We stand up to set the world on fire
to burn those veils
To free the captives who did not realize a better way
War is fought by those who have never tried
New ways, new ideologies, new freedoms
Those who have been in chains since pre-birth.
We stand up to set the world on fire
To sing our homeless hymns
To cherish freedoms status quo will never understand.
Some say don't fear while others fret
On all of the happenings
We've struck a match to our past
"Now the house we've built is burning"
Our forefathers built with blood, sweat, and tears
The foundation we have here
Well into two hundred years
"What lessons are we learning"
The contract in which they wrote down
Constitutes sacred ground
Flick the Bic and burn it down
"Not worried over who we're hurting"
Generations yet to come
What will we be teaching them
That hard work makes great kindling
"Does anyone else find that disturbing"
Overtime it was bound to run its course
Now we know why Miss Liberty carries a torch
We tossed a molotov cocktail onto our own front porch
"Now the house we've built is burning
Poet Soul on Fire
Fill your page till it is no longer white!
An overwhelming tsunami painting for others,
Words you pray, which have meaning..feeling.
At last, you breathe total satisfaction.
It is now utterly complete!
You sit, waiting to see if another can relate.
Oh, Lord,what shall be my poetic fate?
That is only is but portionof the joy of poetry.
Like dancing gumballs in a crystaline jar,
Gleaming with joy to see another go far!
7/10/2024