Long Fires Poems
Long Fires Poems. Below are the most popular long Fires by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fires poems by poem length and keyword.
Sometimes, a slow fire burns inside of me,
And eats away at all the good I’ve done.
The Spark Divine’s across the Nether Sea*,
And of the blunt and broken, I am one.
I would my heart could smite smoke like a sword,
And burn a fiery streak across the bay.
I’ve gathered all my Love into the Word,
And said one tenth of what I have to say…
I calm my teeth, now, for they’d clench and grind,
While I tend still, unworthy fires here.
I cannot know the Nature of that Mind
That sows its seeds among the soils of fear…
But, now, Your coming spreads snow on the fire,
And cools my brow with flakes, freezes my ire.
* the Sea of Samsara, the Sea of Suffering. Also, the emotional plane.
Earth left shattered, broken ground
Call of duty raised the dead
Screams are felt, no need for sound
Blazing orange spotted red
Douse the fires with blood shed
Pillaged homes and raided farms
Burning bush may well have said
All men rise when called to arms
Self appointed judge condemns
Sinner’s mind admits defeat
Inner torment from which stems
The need to kiss the judge’s feet
Criminals don’t need to eat
Let them perish, do no harm
Vengeful wrath salivates sweet
All men rise when called to arms
We have the right to hatred blind
Protect our treasures from the sway
We have the right to silence kind
Determined not to go astray
Careful planning day by day
No surprises, no alarms
Denial is the only way
All men rise when called to arms
Sleeping children dream of love
Clutching talismans and charms
The time has come to rise above
All men rise when called to arms
Palisades Palestine
Raging fires Raging fires
mansions destroyed Babies burned
a million tears the dead cannot cry
the winds are whispering the bombs are laughing
who stole your water supply? no aid allowed in
terrifying, natures justice Americas politicians sign the bombs
your Big Mac was burned while complete villages destroyed
a few people perished hundreds of thousands slaughtered
fools denying climate change fools committing genocide
missing a little water are we? missing hospitals, children covered in
blood
your white Jesus turned it to wine Bethlehem under Zionist siege once more
go see the Resnicks go see Netanyahu
they stole most of your resources he stole human organs, like a genocide
before
you suffered a few days Palestinians suffered 76 years
poetic justice Poets shot in the head
why should I care? when the USA sends billions
you will rebuild the mansions innocent lives, lost forever, by your hand
in crime
“Fortress”
‘Love
is stronger
than death
Belief
dwells in
the refuge
and the fortress …’
she said.
Back then,
true romance was lost
in the subterranean
frequency
poets, musicians, artists
were crucified publicly
for free thoughts on how
it all really was … meant to be
Life and
freedom
we were all lost
looking for the
reality in Life
and its true meaning
Books and lives burned
stories irretrievable
destroyed by all the me too’s
and you too’s,
who gallantly
turned,
averting their eyes
ignoring all the injustice,
charity their home first, this
no startling surprise
as the whole world turned
on its rotisserie, over well-done
shreds of self roasted soul
were coming greasily undone
still -
that one word
called us
all back in
into our dampening
what-if-dreams-were-not-dead
songs-to-be-sung,
stories-still-to-be-written, not hung
it continually
whispered its presence,
its promises incessant
called us all back in
some of us listened,
others of us considered
it all some kind of
freak-filled nonsense
None of us
truly understood it all
back then, grasped the reason
for our complex fall
until the last of the fires
burned out and
the call was still calling
all the burning brides in
its true revelation
its meaningful meaning
in the underrated time
of the great reckoning
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"Come to Life"/ Kanye West
https://youtu.be/7SsrVGHJvaA
fortress.
bride.
revelation.
LYRICS/ "Come to Life", Kanye West
https://genius.com/Kanye-west-come-to-life-lyrics
I soar high above the mountains touching every elusive peak
carrying white fluffy clouds on my back, unhinged and free
The parched lands look up to me to quench their thirst and pray
I blow the moisture-laden clouds, I carry from place to place, their way
I never rest a moment for that would be catastrophic beyond reason
the same is true of my excessive agility as I cause storms of destruction
My power is immense to cause havoc when angry, which is often
But, I also touch the cheek of a child gently, and caress unseen
I go everywhere, I touch everything, nothing escapes me on the surface
I snuff out flames but I also fan fires, I'm the original 'Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde'
Many ancient religions and tribes worship me as a Diety of some stature
But I must admit I am disoriented by the Sun's heat, and Earth's rotation.
There is a hostile villain that lurks deep inside,
turning the human body into a battleground.
With disdain, it causes pain one cannot abide,
but the fight goes on until a cure can be found.
It strangles hope like an noxious climbing vine,
One that I wish overwatering would simply rot.
It stains a body with a toxic mark. I recall the line
as Lady Macbeth cries, "Out, out damned spot!"
It arrives unannounced, without an invitation.
attacking vital organs of an unsuspecting host
In self defense, the body fires back with radiation,
but the enemy has a cavalry to parry a riposte.
It lies in wait, stealing courage, and moral spirit,
burying itself deeply inside trenches of skin.
It's proven to be a killer; no wonder we fear it!
And yet, we ask, "How in the hell did it get in?"
The battle rages on, leaving the inflicted weak,
and it becomes a struggle to continue the fight.
Faith to conquer the adversary becomes bleak,
but don't surrender by waving the flag of white.
The battle can be won. Cancer can be treated.
A positive attitude helped many who have healed.
Speak with a survivor who was not defeated.
Attack that enemy who lurks within; concealed.
June 10, 2021
Cancer Ivy Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Slowly, slowly, everyone transforms into shadows, like dreams woven from star dust,
Better to step boldly into the other world, in the splendor of a burning passion,
Than to fade and wither sadly under the burden of years, like dead leaves beneath the snow.
Oh, how the skies of life darken, a canvas of ink stretched over hopes,
In an eternal night of lost memories, each thought an ethereal echo
In a silent universe, where the lights sing their final melody.
The vortex of time rises like a ghostly dance of clouds in an infinite sky,
And my steps, living shadows on the dark paths of memory,
Better to burn like a mystical flame in the fires of forgetfulness,
Than to disappear into the deep quiet of loss, shining in each thought
That sculpts my eternity, an ephemeral yet luminous lighthouse in the abyss of night.
Shadows on the walls of dreams, unseen silhouettes moving
To the rhythm of a silent waltz, heavy and magical steps,
Their whispers, incantations lost in the silence of eternity,
Better to step into a blinding light, than to navigate
The rivers of mist of a life slowly dissolving into ephemeral outlines.
The mirror of my soul reflects ancient spirits, friends and loves,
All becoming shadows as night extends its silvery veil,
Better to love and lose, than to hold
The emptiness of a frozen heart, caught between time and dreams.
Love, a fire burning brightly, even if just for a moment,
Leaves a deep imprint on the fabric of destiny, a falling star in mysterious vastness.
As time flows, a river of gold and light of memories pouring into the ocean of dreams,
Each moment, each burst of passion,
Is a pearl on a string of enchantment, a shining beacon
On the endless seas of eternity. Better to live in vibrant colors,
Than to slowly melt into a pale shadow,
To burn with the intensity of a comet, to feel and shine, even if for a short time,
In a magical universe, woven from light and shadow.
She talks to blackness
Madness running in the night
I follow her trial through
Field and wood
My trigger finger heavy, good
Pshow the twenty two fires
Blawo blawo the shot gun calls
I can hear her breath
Collapse, revive, collapse
Revive running for her life
Shoeless, naked
Her bare flesh ripped by brush
The hunt is on
The hunt is good
I fire into the darkness
Gauging her distance
I begin to circle. Circle
I cut her with my hatchet
Right in her throat
She wants to scream
But only bubbles belay her bereavement
Blood drips from the hatchet
Like the wax drippings coagulated
My pet is dead!
Calls the madness from the darkness
The urge is calling
Already pecking for me to bleed them
Hiding in the darkness
It consumes me, coughing
Collectively choking my breathing
What madness is this?
Down on one knee
Chocking on the blackness
My love is gone! So what is life?
Meaningless.
Structure
I’ve got an old fashioned heart and my soul is still dreaming.
I’m not a wise man, but I do have wisdom.
I’ve got an immature head on bones that are slowly breaking.
My body aches, my tired eyes fail
And my memories have all been long forgotten.
If life is a clock-face, I am not yet at six,
But my heart has gone on past eleven o'clock;
I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks.
I raise my spirits up and once more venture into my destiny.
Time is a non-entity in a world of possibilities.
Dreams come and go, as do the years that fly on past.
No longer a child, I am a man; there is no turning back.
The clock is still ticking, counting sands;
My lack of ambition is a steak through the heart of all my plans.
Hopes and wishes are only ever fantasies.
Back to reality with a bump, I am still falling, but enough about me…
I hope you are simply splendid! Anything less is not worthy.
You deserve only the best of my kindest of wishes
And I hope you find in your vocabulary,
The words to tell me what you envisage,
So I can try to move mountains for you in all of my dreams.
Let it be so; what do you need?
Ask me for anything.
This vessel is your tool to build a great wonder of your choosing.
Great literature shall be written about the future we are building.
One stepping stone at a time, there are paths beneath the waves.
We can make dreams come true here;
Together we will find a way.
Great towers shall stand, fires atop them, burning high into the night.
All people will travel to see your wonder that we will bring to life.
From small seeds great oaks shall rise
And your vision they will find,
As they walk out of the desert and marvel at your creation.
It will be a perfectly perfect personification.
Our hands are the missing link,
Your theory is a string;
Let me be the bow to your violin.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
In the hush before morning, thought stirs—
An ache for meaningful threads in empty rooms.
Existence is the quiet weight of sunlight
Pooling on the floorboards, unnoticed.
The chaos of living, a gentle nudge beneath the ribs,
Unfolds in the silence between conversations.
We gather moments as if they were stones,
Building cairns to mark the passage of crucial days.
Each breath dissolves into the vast, indifferent air,
Yet every glance, every gesture seeks witness.
We drift in the tide—sometimes lost, sometimes found—
Haunted by the shimmers of fleeting and luminescence.