Suck me dry
And watch me fester
Light the church a blaze
And breath into the stench of charring flesh
Watch my hazy eyes turn dull
And let my cheeks turn gray
Carve the cross into my flesh
And accept the blood that weeps
Hear my cries of distress
And convince yourself it's the devil burrowing in.
There isn't much more for me here
Except a tempting dare.
From the prince of evil himself.
I'm scary summer visit once a year
with fierce countenance I always appear
Dry up all sources by sucking water
Day by day shoot up hotter and hotter
My infant days warm, cosy, and cheerful
when days pass by, I turn into fearful
My aura haunts even after sunsets
And the suffocative weather upsets
Burst opening the charcoal doors of night
Emerge with the gleam of chandelier light
Like a vicious dragon, I diffuse fire
None dares to encounter my severe ire
My scorching and charring hot weather chokes,
Squeezes, suffocates and perspires the folks
End to end whipping waves sprawled and enclosed
Everywhere stringent curfew terms imposed
Panicked birds stop singing and hide in trees
Tired cattle stay in shades of trees and wheeze
People gulp to quench their enormous thirst
Scared veterans shut up indoors coerced
Light and simple cotton clothes people drape
Lemons and melons to beat and escape
offering a fun they gather at pools
Enjoying ice-creams children bunk their schools
Place : 1 st
Unseen is the dark sky midst the pitch darkness. Owls howl-hoot.
Vampire bats fly around. I sit, staring at the red moon.
What has happened to me? What brute has made my lute mute?
I'm mortified. Am I going to be crucified soon?
Anxiety, like charring wildfire, within me blazes.
Depression, like termites, is eating up my cells and veins.
Strains, like storms and gales, erase my inner spaces.
Why is this insomnia? Why are these brain fogs and pains?
I should get out of these, I thought. I should choose life, not death.
How merry are these birds, bees, butterflies, leaves, and flowers?
How, the divine, in each creature, like the breeze, spread its breath?
How could I ignore the blossoming of the cosmic powers?
Optimism, like clear streams, should flow within me flawlessly.
I should nourish the noble nurture of nature noiselessly.
Sick and tired,
Of being separated from myself,
I need wholeness.
Too long.
Hurtful, embarrassing.
Unaccountable.
Burdened.
No longer joyful.
Baby steps with outstretched arms,
prepared to fall, furniture cruising.
First footstep on the line drawn sand.
It must be now.
There is always another party.
Not a wake, a celebration.
Take life in,
Find the different.
The bridge is burning.
Use what started the charring to dampen the flames.
Extinguish, watch the steam float. A phase transition.
She gives and loves.
Embrace her.
Themed distractions, affairs a boulevard,
as elbowed are divided from their minds.
Aloof, queues succeed a ship calling card,
as untrained get on, moons all exit signs.
The General Slocum, dressed to the nines
--churchgoers being passengers adorned.
Petite girls, bulky boots-dresses confines,
a spark burning as the captain is warned.
Crew-covered ears as the shrieking arose,
clung rails ... faith enables those disabled,
backing from charring ensue panic throes,
river rips donning death ... apt tests fatal.
Swimmers valueless o'er a thousand died.
Lifeboats? Vest hopeless; the firm denied.
The focus burns through a paper-thin reality
seared rings smolder,
the laser fixed eye
becomes a fire starter.
You watch that slow burn
as the watcher watches the one who watches.
The foothills of mind catch the tinder, simmer
until lightning strikes flash upon an optic nerve,
a flare of solar plexus radiance
scorches all before it.
A wind is unchained from a giant painting of stillness
it runs through a hallowed valley of spinal awareness
charring the seen
until an exposure takes on the shape
of molten heat.
Now the one who looks
has broken through the tissue of perception.
Betwixt fires of birth and death I burn,
Within embers of aches, meekness I learn;
In flame and heat, I bathe and purify,
Make me fit for my abode in the sky...!
My fire is my rapture in Godhead,
Within whom each of my vices I shred;
Like Moses, the mystical bush I face,
I get roasted in Yahweh's endless grace...!
Like a bonfire and inferno, I blaze,
Charring and scorching find life's newer phase;
I wish this fire be never put out,
In rain or storm or flood or drought of doubt...!
May this give me the will to will and fill,
Till thrills till my quill and fulfill God's will;
Toward dousing-it may my mind not bend,
In love-fire may my existence end...!
17 December 2022
Follow The Fire Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
If witches would stay off their broomsticks,
not collecting black cats and kids,
not charring the sky with their tricks,
keep to their bottomless pit, deep off the grid…
If their cackles were buried in hell,
their pimples and warts swarmed with heat…
if they couldn’t, not one, recall a spell
and stayed off the world’s beat…
If witches would fall in their own cauldron
with all the eyes, ears, and feet they stole,
their curses ne’er heard again, end their doctrine,
face down in mire and defeat of their souls…
then the light of the sun and the moon
and the stars and candles would burn
with a glow of happiness and swoon -
to a glorious paradise mankind would return.
10/25/2022
I watched a man,
once, far away, long ago,
nameless, like a grain of sand,
in that humid, fertile land,
moustache, dark skin,
rough hands full,
of bleating flesh,
rough steel,
piercing the side,
of pink skin hidden,
under dirty wool.
Now, crimson stained,
a kick,
a bleat,
then releasing breath.
How like their pain,
that piercing moment,
that bleating,
the end,
that never ends.
Kicking on the blade,
of my traitor's mind.
Soon to turn on the rusted spit,
charring my soul,
turned by my hand.
I envy that goat,
feeling steel only once.
While I turn,
turn,
turn over flames,
of my searing thoughts.
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
would you likesome sea salt
or maybe cinnamon pepper
they think the darkness comes from squid ink
but that's just charring on the meat
the gravy was hand made
from hay smoked bones
and thickened with blueberries
all the vegetables are home sourced
you seem hesitant
doesn't it smell divine
here let me cut you a slice
see the way the gravy takes the shimmer of the blood
lip smacking good
dont worry so many courses
try not to move
the wires are the only thing keeping you alive
and i have only used your foot and heart
so much meat to try
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)
quavering soul eclipse to blame
with smoldering fire's charring croon
they dared to play with such a flame
desoul the spiritlessness moon
with smoldering fire's charring croon
they came away so scorched in gloom
desoul the spiritlessness moon
tomb in fire that ashes consume
they came away so scorched in gloom
devouring embers stole the pain
tomb in fire that ashes consume
left with no apathy again
devouring embers stole the pain
they dared to play with such a flame
left with no apathy again
quavering soul eclipse to blame
5/10/2020
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
The wind throws sand at the sky
as if to feed the mountain summit.
A blind fury that sees no folly in raging on.
The wind shoves through time.
Rushing in an invisible blur.
Like the sea slurs it speech
and slows only for a moment of respite
careless with determined devastation
battering at the base
crashing heaving blows like cries
louder than the wind they deafen
Like sorrow eroding from below
scratching at the rock face
carving out a hole
to sink into this hardened surface
to soften and break it down
to create a space to grow
This seed
burried
unmoved
takes root
resisting
reaching inward for solid ground
pushing outward and upward
harmoniously out of unision
in sporadic bursts
Like flames charring matter black
churning the light
heated into dust
becoming fodder for the wind
and the cycle begins again.
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