Phoenix Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

SOMETHING GOES FOR SOMETHING

A new phase
Needs sacrifice 
You have to let go
Of who you are
So you can become 
Who you want to be
Something goes for something.

You got to let go
Of all that's draining 
Endowing what's nourishing 
If you want to fly 
Give up everything 
That weighs you down
Be like the Phoenix 
From ashes to a new life.

Premium Member Deviants and Divine

In a world where love has forgotten its place, lost all meaning, left floundering in the mud—courage has found its nirvanic horizon, its ruby flames rise up in the end~ Poetess

Destroyed, slain, 
smashed and driven to the ground~
a brutal odyssey of dispiritedness
of rude awakenings endured
around this, fire kept burning within
intoxicating every vein in my body
when welled up eyes, pools of tears fallen
I was the ocean, the lone firebird that flies over
a lone star ablaze, weightless, free-spirited
and alas, rising from the ashes
in glorious splendor for all to observe and marvel
born outside rose walls, from wind, at night,
from red clay, the flowers and the mud, 
weeds and roots they know my name
its not attention I seek, its resonance
smashed and driven to the ground~
ignored, displaced, and all but forgotten
and from this despair, I am the phoenix rising
f r o m   t h e   a s h e s  are the gauze wings,
refined in sapphire gossamer velveteen 
walls turn to rubble, no rose-stone left unturned,
left unseen is what most is valued, light sifts thru
I’ve won life’s prize—contentment's invaluable gifts

Ash Into Phoenix

Poet's Note:

Written for the Skeletons Poetry Contest. This dramatic monologue uses "skeleton of hope" as a metaphor for resilience that appears during grief.

             Ash Into Phoenix

You ask why I walk barefoot through this frozen forest?  
The broken road cuts me, and dancing fog swirls at my feet.  
Every step is heavy and cold.  

Demons of sorrow and despair circle me.  
I thought grief would bury me in the dark.  

Then the skeleton of hope rose from my chest.  
He wore a gown of silver, with stars on its glittering seams.  
He sat beside me, a golden staff in his hand.  
He took my hand and looked into my eyes.  

"Hardship burns your old soul," he said.  
"From the ash rises a phoenix of hope."  
"Grief is fire. Let it light your path."  
"In darkness, you can still glow."  

He smiled at me, at the person drowning in grief, and said:  
"Grief is not a punishment.  
It is the polish that strengthens your inner self."  

And then I stood, because he was right.


Musings of a Phoenix

Why would you ever want to stay
the same when you already know
that you're meant to change?

Why refuse to let your flames grow
when you yearn to spread your wins
and want to reach the sky?

Why stay where they don't want you
when you can just create someplace new
and live a life that's uniquely true?

Why give up hope for a better future 
when the signals of a brighter horizon
shine forth in every soul that sees you?

scattering ash

uteric fire rises glowing across
  sacral waters, delivering
    umbilical vibrational luminosity
                                    to crown —-

I am Phoenix from Golden Sun
  arriving black vulture feathered 
    scattering ash you lovingly
                                      sowed …

crimson mirrors my pupils
  pierce each cell
    penetrating what is to 
      transmute as Rubicon awaits not 
          rabid roaring apricot black ____

veined breasts exude milk 
                        for next 
                                    i l l u s i o n ~ 

_________________
GOLD Placement Poem 
Allpoetry May 26
Image Contest

Threads

The Threads of my being 
Are becoming unraveled 
     As whom “I Was” is only seen in the shadows and patches 
I am losing myself but finding myself at the same time. 

The threads are unraveling the “sweater” of my being 
It is being rolled up in a ball of wool, like so many threads of life, cocooned 
Until a new garment is made from the old.  

What is this garment 
   that my mind and my being are weaving? 
It is a garment that reaches back in time, 
even as it becomes invisible in the present. 

This garment is my shield 
As I become ever increasingly vulnerable 
But never increasing deep 
Deeper than I’ve ever been. 

It is not about a “meaning of life” journey 
It is not Nirvana or Valhalla 
It is not an enlightened moment 
It is melding in a new way of doing things 
Finding new ways of learning and retaining memory. 

Even poetry becomes therapeutic 
As my garment takes shape 
And covers my nakedness.


Premium Member Jean Grey MARVEL GIRL Phoenix

Meaningful girl redheaded.
Daughter of John and Elaine Grey. 
Mind situated
Thoughts, tensions. Mind breaks
Revelations

Tell a communications.
Kinesis
Mind reeling reading
Telekinesis
Student of Charles Xavier

Original X man.
Red headed Marvel Girl
Member of Uncanny X-MEN
Reading your mind
Powerful, Psych blasts

Showcasing immense omega-level 
Telepathic and telekinetic abilities
Powerhouse mutant capable of flight,
Energy manipulation, and mental control
Psionic abilities to protect mutant kind associated

With the cosmic "Phoenix Force".

Spirit of the Phoenix
Jean Grey MARVEL GIRL  Phoenix 

4/19/26
Written by James Edward Lee Sr 2026

Premium Member A Poetic National Honor

Bridging the port  

Calming wakes, defined as sport  

Not needing any legal court  

Only a scoreboard  

Pointing which door 

An Indianapolis checkered flag  

Or hiking Arizona’s crags  

Going in zags  

Seeing single stags  

Boys Fightin Illini windy gusts  

Wanting a middle city bust  

Girls giving USC, a nice tri  

Enjoying a Final Four high  

Reaching dunking heights  

Friday night  

Huskies have in sight  

Next day another round  

For the Nutmeg town  

After dinner  

There will be a winner  

Due to an early evening rise 

From southern gamecock cries  

Serving gourmet steaks accompanied with eggs  

Worth the beg  

Two or three  

Spectacle we believe  

Are the attempts  

Message sent  

On the hardwood  

By those who are good  

Getting two points  

Across the arena joint  

But do not despair  

What is fair  

If your academic grades are not there  

Since Huskie national championship hopes, are on the air

In an instant -She burst Forth

In an instant 
I burst forth again 
Like some sort of exotic flower that only blooms once every 5 or 10 years 
Born of volcanic balsalt 
Bursting upward in a splash of ash
that rains down 
Can you hear the tiny bits hitting the rock around me 
It's a swoosh sound and then tiny rain 
And suddenly here I am again 
My stalk is stronger than in the past 
My hues are no longer blues 
There is light slipping between the veins of me 
This is a cosmic born again 
Little remains of the girl that I once was
She was so small where I now feel tall 
She was so insecure. We're now a mountain stands 
Her steps were never sure. Now I stride 
I stand upon the peak of that black black mountain that I had to climb 
Surveying the valley of glorious color and light below
The battles have made a Titan of me 
And a Titan. I'm damn well glad to be

Premium Member Clodagh Q

Pesky Clodagh Q
Showing me her lovely little white Audi 

Sure haven't I been singing Honey ever since 
The saddest song in the world,
Ever,

Although By The Time I Get to Phoenix manages 
To push it all the way 

Anyhow,
How did they connect,
Clodaghs car and you, my love?

She wrecked the car and 
She was sad and 
So afraid that I'd be mad 

Reminded me of the time you....

I was in my late mums 
And she told me you'd...

And was afraid I'd shout at you...

Stupid pesky car Wendy 
 I
Didn't care in the tiniest slightest bit....

I only cared for you -
Sorry, I had to shake my head to clear the tears -

Sure wasn't that my job,
Isn't that why god gave you to me 

Cos I minded you 

Isn't it in the very Bible....

silly, pesky Clodagh Q,
Silly ,pesky car...
Silly, pesky song...

And honey I miss you.

RISE LIKE THE PHOENIX

What’s in the rhythm

that stirs an aching

Soul? Will her 

heart’s bruise finally 

appeased at the

scent of every fabric

that blends with the air—

The daunting silhouettes

treading the runway…

Their painted lips—

bespeak much of her

silence,

those shimmering lights

may defy her 

fears but

she will rise—

like the Phoenix

from the ash heap.

Her wings kept 

ablaze by her

God. With a smile,

soaring into the skies

	of freedom and utmost love.


By: Elena Maria Mana-ay Parcon©2026

Premium Member The Phoenix and I

Phoenix! Scraggled feathers, wild of eye,
Was it time, or did you choose to die?
What the patter in your head
As you built your flaming bed?
Ah, but well the matter known,
For I as well the flames have sown.
Casting well enough aside,
By lesser measures, I too died.
You from ashes rise again:
Perhaps I too, I know not when.

35 I'm a Phoenix

35.

I'm a Phoenix



I'm a Phoenix who melts in demise

From the ashes of my past I shall arise



I shall witness happily

The morning sun's new glory



I shall rise up from my feet

With a courageous heartbeat



I shall spread out my wings wide

And set all hindrances aside



And I shall make them see

That there's a radiant hope in me.



I'm a Phoenix, I'm a Phoenix

You shall see!



-sometime in 12/2009 – 1/2010

(Dumarao & Roxas City)

*a song to inspire self

Premium Member The Phoenix rises

A soft, subtle, silent breeze of bliss blows,
enlivening nodes, eager to imbibe
elixir so sublime, heart alone knows,
delighting seeing the Phoenix revive.

Moment by moment, all moments entwined,
we watch how bliss ignition does renew,
as rapture peaks, our soul divine aligned,
in surrender feeling blessings accrue.

A bliss blob is implanted at our crown,
which we may take to be the hand of God,
wherefrom stream of love flows, in which we drown,
our presence by this epiphany awed.

If we be still, voids within us will fill,
making easy our soul’s ascent uphill.

Premium Member Ashes and Phoenix Rise

Written: December 6, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Hilo Poet

                    ****************

Oh, Nero, spearhead of the wicked fate,
With insane fire, you lit the Roman gate,
Your lyre produced a wild, melodic grate,
Your greed is burning on your twisted trait,
As the power bursts with your wicked hate,
Flames rise, and all that is left will abate,
In the gloom, a flare of faith on the slate,
A phoenix will rise from dust, may elate,
And Rome shall breathe again, fresh and ornate.


RZ & HMS: 10 syllables per 9 lines

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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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