On Fire(P) Poems - Poems about On Fire(P)

Let this not be poetry. Let this be a reckoning. John. You are a groomer. You are a predator in plain clothes. You are a bastard carved from rot Too old to claim innocence, Too vile to fake remorse. You lusted after what I could’ve had Twisted jealousy dressed in sickness. Like David, you lusted after another’s soul And slaughtered me While calling it justice. You tried to...

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A single light, a fragile spark Guides the lost through endless dark. The Keeper guards it, steadfast, still A beacon strong, see.. a force of will. It cannot falter, cannot fade Its warmth eternal, softly laid. The Keeper’s task, to hold it high Until the stars themselves must die. ...

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Dweller of Our Heart 8-7-25 Line of Inquiry: The essence in us is the same as the essence in the sun. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dweller of Our Heart Light dwells in my core Through ambivalent nights Light and solar fire, The incorruptible first breath of Aurora’s blush. Born in the same chrysalis of the refiner’s flame, Before the birth of light, Crafted in birthright, We rise...

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With all the Gods who've been and gone religiously believed in and prayed upon for sure Thor was but one but who'll be the next to come along will we sing praises to him it or her faithfully erect an edifice to edify incense burn sacrifice virgins bow down on our knees to deify will fire and brimstone or flagellation appear in the equation with...

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Hearts in Heaven Bangladesh's Cry: A Linking Pin Sonnet The sky held screams—screams torn through burning blue, Blue smoke descended where small footsteps grew. Grew bright young dreams in uniforms so white, White pages turned with innocence and light. Light left the room when iron wings struck ground, Ground broke in silence, swallowing every sound. Sound echoed loud through broken bricks...

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Twenty-four days before Christmas in 1958 there was a huge fire at Our Lady of the Angels, a Catholic grade school in Chicago Eighty-seven children and three nuns died in this fire. One of the children who passed was Mary’s little sister, Karen. She was to be a first grader forever. Mary was in the fourth grade at the time. Mary...

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the minimalist decries clutter wishing for less perhaps nothing a seeking goal already fulfilled~...

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Let the demons play — and let them fall As they seek their next prey. Merry-go-round, lost and found, Salt trodden deep in earth and pain. Zombies crawl. An ass's stall. I don’t need this bottle. I don’t need you. Forgive me — For all the prayers I whispered in your name in vain. Enemies within, Those who proclaimed to be my friends. Lucky, I suppose, That...

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\\\|| FIRE L I G /\/\/\ H T itself ~ baptised ~~ ***** ...

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Uh huh Jambalaya Uh oh Crawdad gumbo That spice It’s Cajun nice Girl there With long blonde hair She’s flame and can’t be tamed Legs long Bayou beat song So nice Red beans and rice Real sweet With pepper heat Hot day Shrimp etouffee So real She makes me feel Her eyes Beautiful lies Much more Oh I adore Love taste Rush passion’s haste Salt sweet Such tender meat De-sire Swamp born fire Hunger Never sated Give me What she plated Eat till I’m full to burst Need her A voodoo curse ...

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Woodsmoke, Laughter, and Warmth Sunlight slanting through pines, the creak's cold whisper, a child's echo of laughter. Bare feet on smooth stones, slick with moss. Ankle-deep in melted snow, a shiver on the skin. The taste of distant winter, sharp and clean. Splintered light on the water's surface, a fleeting mirror of a girl's wonder. Flickering flames, a circle of warmth, faces I know by heart. The...

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flames burn sky smoke filled dark like late day the smell of burnt wood drifts- I weep...

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If Vulcan Wakes (c) 2025 by The Entangled Pair If Vulcan fully wakes again and shakes his fiery dreads unleashing hell in all it's fury on our fearful heads I tell you once again my friends in words of common rhyme we perish not in watery graves but in the fires this time can't see the forest for the trees can't...

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The morning woods were crackling with unknown sounds. Then I heard a rustling sound in the leaves. The sound of footsteps was getting louder, It wasn’t a something, it was someone. Suddenly a large man fell to the ground. His leg was bleeding; all he said was “trap”. Cool water from my canteen brought him back. A small trap, it hadn’t broken...

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A young girl, An old lady, A mother of two, A passionate dancer— All were friends of mine. Across the decades, Through Chennai floods And Hindi classes, They stood with courage and quiet dedication. Their words—scattered notes of inspiration, Their choices—prompt, firm, and full of grace. They stood as ideals— In studies, in marriage, In hobbies and in ageing gracefully. Friends from every age group— A potpourri of ideas,...

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