Long Fan the flame Poems
Long Fan the flame Poems. Below are the most popular long Fan the flame by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fan the flame poems by poem length and keyword.
Wapiti
Beneath the mesas rough terrain
White snow lies gentle on an open plain
A black elk herd
Lift their heads to the firebird’s cry
Lift their legs and run to the southern sky
Wapiti
A mother pleads for her child, in sorrow and rage
The heart of her life placed like an animal in a cage
I do not feel her pain, though it seems that I should
Relieve her of her pain
You who capitalized on our grief
You brought no comfort no relief
Against the progressive march of time
You deliberate for decline
It is a weakness you define
That we must overcome, overcome
Fan the flame, your time has come
Warriors of the golden sun
Medicine man
Shake the fear from the cold and frozen land
Shake the fear from the cold and frozen land
Wapiti
You are the breath of death, you are nuclear waste,
You are the infection streaming from a wound
You are the godless one, without conscience
In the life beyond life, what you may call hell
The ones you caused to suffer, will suffer you as well
Will scream and rage inside of you, and there will be no escape.
All you will know is their pain, their grief their rage
All you will feel is their pain and there will be no escape
You who plundered sacred ground
Defiled the air with your double tongue
Those who feed your potentate
Now stand ambivalent at the gate
Soon will leave you to your fate
And the furies will come, they will come!
Fan the flame, your time has come
Warriors of the golden sun
Medicine man
Shake the fear from the cold and frozen land
Shake the fear from the cold and frozen land
Wapiti
SILENCE
When you sit back in silence, and think, it won’t be me.
That’s what you’ll remember, when you’re no longer free.
Moments, they have come and gone, when you’ve just turned away.
Your truth died in that silence, now you’re the castaway.
When you wait to raise your battle, when it’s all but come to pass.
They’ll target you relentlessly, they’ll kick you in the ass.
Your words they’ll say are poisoned, they’ll say they don’t ring true.
That’s when you’ll see the rest of them, they’ll turn their backs on you.
You’ll recall your own past silence, you’ll think this cannot be.
I remember it like yesterday, Dave said these words to me.
“Go ahead, be careful, they’re known to eat their own.”
It took me all of fifteen years, but now the meanings known.
Performance doesn’t matter, if someone’s marked your back
It doesn’t matter what path you choose, you’ll never be on track.
They’ll look for any angle, they’ll always find a way
The fuel they need is silence, to make the rest obey.
So when I’m gone be careful, as nothing will have changed.
The truth cannot be hidden, but they’ll fight to keep it caged.
Out of sight and out of mind, to them it’s all the same.
Until that day the truth ignites, and voices fan the flame.
Truth it has a memory, past lies will be undone.
It will spread like raging forest fires, impossible to outrun.
In silence now I crept along, I found that cage’s key.
Let’s put it now into that lock, it’s time to set it free.
Dazed and confused and buzzing hard
The aging duo now sorts their cards
They take a rest and search for air
Joe jumps on Nancy and sniffs her hair
A new concoction to fan the flame
Warm Pabst Blue Ribbon will bring Trump fame
He bongs a six pack and swings his sword
I don’t think Nancy can take much more
She digs down deep with a Schlitz big mouth
It’s tangy, refreshing and very stout
Her secret weapon does not faze Trump
He dons a mask and blows some chunks
Here comes one more, to this battle round deuce
It’s Snoop Doggy Dog with his gin and juice.
He just smoked a bowl and ate some beans and cheese
This one’s over folks, with just one sneeze
Scheduled for five but fell a bit short
Snoop Dog cuts cheese with full report.
I challenge you to have Faith. Believe...
Forget religion and politics and labels. Focus on Faith in a Higher Power. It doesn't matter what name it's given. There is something to Believe in.
What have you got to lose? Worst case, you're having a positive attitude and showing Gratitude for your life. That in itself can change things.
Best case, you witness a Miracle. The Miracle of you... Your Life... Your Purpose... A greater connection to the Divine and the Collective.
This poem is about Faith without using the word... It's unseen... Which is what it is by definition. Believing in the unseen.
Witness a Miracle
By Michelle Morris
05/02/2026
How about you Believe
Believe in something better
Believe in something more
Believe in God and His Blessings
What have you got to lose?
What have you got to gain?
Maybe you'll witness a Miracle
Maybe you'll fan the Flame
The Flame that's in your Heart
The Flame that's in your Soul
The Flame to ignite your Life
Your Purpose and your Wholeness
For the Gratitude you show
The Positivity that just grows
Creates a channel to the Divine
It links you to the Collective Hope
We are all Eternal
And we are connected to every atom
Our Universe is Magical
We create Serendipity in action
Forget about religion
Forget politics and labels
We're here to make a difference
To learn and grow through the ages
Humanity is evolving
Enlightenment is happening
Be a Miracle every day
Because Love and Light is Magic
© Michelle Morris, 2026
Raw, unfiltered anger, it’s all that I know. Constantly
Aggravated by worthless pieces of scum that I struggle
Getting off of my shoes. A nasty glare, a hostile retort,
Everything and anything can, and will, fan the flame.
After the infliction, what happens then? A swelling, a vicious,
Nasty swelling in the throat. A horrible torrent of flames threatens to
Destroy all in its path. Words of pure venom threaten to spew out.
Harrowing to myself and others, I know this to be so. But, like a sore
Affliction or rash, it never truly dissipates. It only subsides, a dormant ember
That flickers in the inky darkness until some ignorant cretin ignites it again.
Red, red, red! Blinding, sizzling-hot red is all I see. Pure and unfiltered
Evil that only cares for spreading vile hatred and destruction. Suddenly, the
Devil is fatigued. It sinks into the abyss, dormant. But not for long.
Hope is where the heart is.
Listen to it beating in the
chasm of longevity.
Palpitation of expectation.
Trusting when all seems lost.
Hope beats eternal.
Marching through endless
days of hopelessness.
Tattered banner unfurled
and waving in the wind.
Fluttering when all seems lost.
Hope is still here somewhere
in this wayward puzzled world.
Its held in love, in faith
and trust, annihilating fear.
Its planted in the soil of soul
and tramped on the path of freedom.
It gasps with every new born breath.
It laughs with children.
It clings to medical advancement
and roars with every cure.
It may be just a flicker.
Its up to us to fan the flame.
When life is pressing down on you,
And nothing’s going right.
When you feel, you’ve had enough,
And lack the will to fight.
When everything you seem to do,
Has no affect at all.
When you’re really at rock bottom,
And there’s nowhere left to fall.
What can you do, where can you go,
How do you start again?
How can you lift your spirit up,
When broken by life’s pain?
Struggle for your inner self,
Then clutch at it, and pray,
To turn the tide, that washed you down,
And make it flow ‘your’ way.
Remember when your drowning in,
The dregs of your life’s cup.
That things cannot get any worse,
The ‘only’ way is up.
Although you feel, life’s let you down,
And racked your soul with pain.
There’s nothing more that can go wrong,
But everything to gain.
Rekindle now that tiny spark,
The one that’s deep within.
It’s still alight and burning there,
Although it’s growing dim.
For once you fan the ‘flame of life’,
This flame, like any fire,
Is never satisfied to glow,
But wants to burn much higher.
An ember dampened by the rain,
May blaze again one day.
It just needs you, to seek it out,
Before it’s washed away.
Burning, although slow at first
This ember will ignite
Then rising from your darkest hour,
Once more you'll join the light.
Ivor G Davies
In a stone-carved cell where shadows creep,
A Beadsman wakes while the world is deep.
No common Hermit in a lonely cave,
He prays for the soul of the fallen and brave.
His heavy cogitation drifts like smoke
Beneath the weight of a tattered cloak.
Within his walls, the space is cold and spare,
A narrow squint his only window’s glare.
A rough-hewn table and a pallet bed,
With a shallow pit where he will lay his head.
Through the alms-hatch, simple bread is passed,
In this stone-locked tomb where his lot is cast.
He feels the grey acedia of the soul,
A stagnant tide he cannot control.
Each prayer he whispers seems a hollow ambsace,
A luckless hand in a silent place.
Yet as the morning starts to broach the night,
The gargoyle grins in the creeping light.
To feign a hope is a weary task,
When truth is hidden behind a mask.
But dreams of Avalon, that emerald shore,
Whisper of peace and the end of war.
It would beseem a spirit such as his
To find the enchantment in a world like this.
He calls to his compeer, the rising sun,
The long night’s labor finally done.
For though the stone is cold and the air is thin,
The light of the spirit is where the days begin.
The candle flickers, a dying spark,
As he prepares to leave the dark.
No more the nullity of a life in debt,
No more the shadows where the sun has set.
His reflection ends, the beads grow still,
He yields his spirit to a higher will.
Above his head, the Eye of Providence keeps its watch,
While fingers fumble at the final notch.
It would befit a soul so worn and grey
To find at last the breaking of the day.
No longer bound by church or heavy stone,
He claims a peace he’s never truly known.
His consort calls from far across the mist,
A land of gold the setting sun has kissed.
Enchantment wakes, the old myths call his name,
And Avalon begins to fan the flame.
The Beadsman leaves his cell and shallow pit,
To find the light the heavens have unlit.
Note: A touch of the 13th century.
The deal is done you’ve sold your soul,
hurled yourself into a pit of coal,
whirling like a dervish you fan the flame,
each time he invokes his unholy game.
In a ball gown made of funeral palls,
you dance with the devil each time he calls.
Entranced by his rhythmic violin,
you live a life of perfect sin.
You lie and cheat, your wish is his pleasure,
have everything you want, wine, women and treasure.
You believe it’s right even though it’s wrong
now Satan’s the singer and you’re the song.
But soon the glitter will turn to dust,
the gold and silver he promised will turn to rust.
As you twist and writhe he’ll revel as you burn,
for this is a lesson you’ll never learn.
To the devils tune you dance so well
yet you wonder why you’re still in hell.
“You”
So you break
and the life of you
falls through
the cracks in
the floor
you become
invisible to all
just like a ghost
walking through
walls
silently
you watch
and
silently
you learn
and the softness
that ethereal core
apple seed
hidden in the
hardness of you
it wakes
and it grows
slowly a small life
unfurls
it blooms
there is a
strength in you
that you never knew
some small Light
in you remains
Darkness came
to fan the flame,
lit “Love “,
to lead you
back to
You
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
X-x-X
“Extreme Ways”/Moby
https://youtu.be/bMgVjXpoKgQ
“It’s the hard things that break;
soft things don’t break.
It was an epiphany I had today
and I just wonder why
it took me so very, very long to see it.
You can waste so many years of your life
trying to become something hard
in order not to break;
but it’s the soft things that can’t break.
The hard things are the ones
that shatter into a million pieces.”