I see fire , feel fire
Passion piercing heart.
Ashes of lost love to fly.
Bubbling blood to flood.
Sensing betrayal in smoke.
My heart is burning.
No consolation to soul.
Fire purifies.
Poem written on 14th September, 2025 for "Variation Of Dramatic Or Light Verse" Poetry Contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A fire sparkles in your eyes,
its sparks shine on me.
Let it energize my life,
my soul needs its warmth.
Drown me in caring desire,
to crave only you.
Whatever the consequence,
trust in my credence.
I see fire in your eyes
when you look at me.
I cannot resist your flame
You light up my heart.
Embraced in burning passion
making love with you
through blazing red hot desire
my flame will erupt.
I see you and you see me
from across the room;
sweet is the heat under your
unwavering gaze.
A small smile tugs at your lips
as your eyes light up;
I see fire that well foretells
sunshine exploding.
I was pondering my soul,
and was unhappy;
the path forward was all wrong,
I needed to change !
It was quite emotional,
startling and thrilling;
a fire burns deep within me,
my path . . . a journey !
the fire spreads quickly
nothing can stand in its way
firemen are coming
For: VARIATION OF DRAMATIC OR LIGHT VERSE Poetry Contest ** Sponsor: Nette Onclaud ** September 7, 2025
*****
nightmares blooming in color
like a midnight fire
casting its embers into
tomorrow's dawning
with a blood red sun burning
into the new day
the shadows of doom refuse
to die in the Light
Death's Shadow creeps across the wall
Where memories of triumph Stand tall
Each scar tells stories of battles won
Each breath echoes choice made, undone.
The ledger of our days is closed
Accounted for in every pose
No whispered no apologies sought
No trembling knees, no faltering thought.
Before the throne of judgment high
We stand as mountains touch the sky
Our hearts ablaze with righteous pride
Our soul unbroken, side by side.
The divine inquirer raises sight
Upon our shoulders, straight and bright
No shame deliberate, no guilt resides
Only the peace that honor provides.
Through trials fierce and tests of fire
We walked the path our conscience dire
Each step deliberate, each choice clear
Our character forged, year by year.
HERMIT’S FIRE IN THE FROZEN MEDIEVAL FOREST
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wind, a teeth-chattering dirge
through skeletal branches,
finds no purchase on the small flame.
He built it low, a secret
whispered to the snow-laden earth,
a defiant ember in the kingdom of ice.
Years bleed into seasons here,
marked only by the shrinking woodpile,
the lengthening beard, the deepening lines
etched by firelight and solitude.
He remembers faces,
ghosts flickering in the flames,
loves lost, battles fought,
a life traded for this quiet burn.
The forest breathes around him,
a vast, indifferent lung.
He is a mote, a spark,
yet the fire persists,
a stubborn refusal to surrender
to the long, cold night.
And perhaps, he thinks,
as the embers glow,
that is enough.
Just to burn.
Just to be.
Sponsor Joseph May Contest Name Alpha Lines
________________________________________________________
Beauty comes down effortlessly, fire glows higher.
The flames flicker and dance as they illuminate the dark.
Bright fingers of crimson and gold, reaching skyward,
Now and then embers would escape with a loud spark.
Lingering moments nestle on paused quiet respite.
Amidst the smoky scent of our cozy campfire.
The overwhelming aroma of our campfire is quite surreal.
Familiar sensations waft into an aromatic spire.
Questing reprisal still the undergrowth vanquished ways.
The fragrances so inviting, mixed with earthy sprays.
As the breeze diminishes so our campfires warmth we feel.
The eucalyptus enhances a perfume, in a smoky haze.
Jacaranda kindling lingers, memories now over prone.
The spellbinding flames flicker, casting shadows of their own.
As the dark velvet night closes in, our fire glistens in tone.
It’s all made more spectacular by our campfire’s cologne.
That night, in the park, it started with a spark,
It swam thru the trees and swallowed the dark.
Like a serpent, it slithered, racing to and fro,
When it hit the apartment, the chaos would grow!
Trapped! Some of them jumped, while the rest of them fried,
I could hear the screams of the people inside.
Raging death would rage higher, a funeral pyre,
All swimming in vain, in a cauldron of fire!
It was as if...Madness!, was calling my name,
Remains were ablaze, a spectacle of flame.
I stood in horror, as such horror would unfold,
I called out to God, but God put me on hold!
Don’t let
your spark
become a fuse
blowing up
the truth
Don’t let
the flame
become a blaze
burning down
your youth
Don’t be the
kindling
become the tree
that reaches
and extends
Don’t be
accused
of lighting the match
on what
— should never end
(The New Room: September, 2025)
The fire descends, a whispered dread,
Above the city of the dead.
And from the gate, a frantic flight,
Toward the mountains, toward the light.
The angel's law, a word of steel:
"Run, and let no backward feel.
No glance of sorrow, no fond gaze,
Lest ye be caught in judgment's maze."
A Draconian State, of salt and flame,
Where mercy holds a different name.
For to a glance, a heart's small ache,
A life is forfeit, for its sake.
So turns the head, against the will,
To see the city standing still.
One tear, one memory, one breath,
And then the cold, consuming death.
A pillar stands, of white and fine,
A woman's form, a grave divine.
A silent tomb, to mark the cost,
Of all that one brief look has lost.
My window opened
I hear soft music
The sound of voices
In a deep slumber
Wakes me from my sleep
A stink in the air
A strong scent lingers
A pit fire burns
Something unpleasant
It last all night long
It softens the edges of cruelty,
makes judgment feel like care,
makes exile look like protection.
It wraps the blade in velvet and calls it mercy.
I have stood in rooms full of warmth
and felt nothing but frost inside my chest.
Because warmth without understanding is suffocation.
Because heat without truth is manipulation.
They smiled as they sentenced me.
They prayed as they cast me out.
They said it was for my own good.
But I saw the fire in their eyes,
and it was not holy.
It was hungry.
Heat demands conformity.
It melts difference.
It punishes the cold for daring to remain solid.
But I did not melt.
I did not bend.
I did not become what they needed me to be.
I am the frost.
I do not lie.
I do not soften.
I do not hide.
In the cold, everything is revealed.
The breath. The wound. The truth.
There is no illusion in frost.
Only clarity.
So let them burn.
Let them bask.
Let them believe their heat is holy.
I will remain.
Sharp.
Clear.
Unmelted.
Because heat is a lie.
And I am the truth it cannot touch.
Specific Types of Fire Poems
Read wonderful fire poetry on the following sub-topics:
camp, forest, ice, rhyme, shape, water
and more.
Definition | What is Fire in Poetry?
Poems Related to Fire
inferno, heat, blaze, bonfire, embers, combustion, scorching, devouring, searing, luminosity, warmth,