Short Burning(A) Poems

Upon a turtle
sat two snails in readiness
burning a new trail!...

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Burning my skin
Burning daylight
Burning creativity
Burning feelings
Burning a hole through my heart
Burnt...

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Lock me away in the tower of dread and fear,
Watch my life slowly disapear,
Burning a painful death,
Taking in my last breath!!!!...

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Burning a deep hole through unlit skies.
Leaving philosopher kings in complete astonishment.
Just another place to plant a flag never forgotten....

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In a tunnel of lights
I see my life at the end
Burning a candle
Trying to handle
My ills and my past
Directing the cast
And I better move fast
Because this window will not last
If I believe in salvaging my past...

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Pull out a single sheet of paper after burning a fat doobie.

These colored pencils,paints, and pens. 

How you do something to me.

As my thoughts are drawn out in black and shades of grey.

The color within 
reveals the cluster f**k
 that is my brain.

...

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The color of your hair, negligence,
beauty, the burden of undesirable love,
like a world, burning a hole in my heart,
willing, wild, but unrepentant as a flame,.

I will do my penance quietly.

Do you fear me because I am not tamed,
'noli me tángere',

I am no longer the same....

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My market value will increase
When I am resting in a coffin
Dead people don’t talk about the stock market
There never has been a better investment
For my dead body
My family had no other use for it
Burning a dead body gives you ashes
But you have to travel far
To spread them in holy places...

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You ignite my sense of passion
Something we all lack
Desire is burning a hole
And I am a pyromaniac

Let the bell take its toll
More fodder for the fire
The bartender says "last call"
And the way you move sparks my desire

So the night is crashing down
As we all open Tinder
And we all leave with just another
Night to remember...

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Rockstar status known decades ago,
Imagined greatness you alone,
Infused lines to inspire yet unordained,
Dark recesses breathing life unexplained,
A lord born of chance to pursue chosen prose,
Wound about poisonous flesh the desire,
Youth requitted and melancholic haunts,
Playing redemption to political jaunts,
Life bright burning a fever too extreme......

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It is a cold stormy winter’s night.
And the power has gone out once again!
I light my candles and throw a log on my fire,
The bright embers burning a rich amber as they spark. 
I turn up the volume of Paul Simon at Hyde Park. 
Thank god for my Spotify downloads!
I take a sip of my red Malbec,
And dance up a storm to the lively music, 
Bringing a smile to my face as I catch my breath....

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I hold a light
That barely flickers in the night,
It's wick almost drowned
In the melted wax tears,
Yet it willfully holds on
Burning a bright blue.
It is the candle lit in your name,
And I have waited 
A lifetime for it to die,
For a strong wind to
Blow it out, or 
A Light to eclipse its glow.
Still it burns,
Faintly, but steadily,
The eternal flame 
You lit all those years ago....

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Space out in time
So much space
It blows my mind
Space-constellations
Milky ways
Caramel and nougat encased in a chocolate glaze
Balls of gases burning a million of miles away
I believe that’s what I heard Pumba say
9 circular colorful balls
You’re free to jump around them all 
Shooting stars, craters, rocks, gases
Basically creating space
Stop holding on to clutter
Release to allow new space...

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My fragile hammock cocoon
The sunrays penetrate my skin like a harpoon
Lazily swinging between the branches like a baboon
Tropical heat rising like a hot-air balloon
Cooling in an ice-cream cone
Burning a natural tan

Summer is fire at high noon
Sweating an oily sunscreen
There in the mouth of a dragon
A swimming pool like ‘Hell Inn’ 
A tropical storm brewing soon
The smell of rain fills the afternoon...

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I met the devil on a Friday night.
We danced to the phat bari sax.
Smoke choked out any words I could say,
Paying a heavy tax.

The sky was maroon with contemptible past,
The sound iridescently smooth.
The trombone a-swung to the rhythm of us,
Burning a hole in the truth.

I met the devil on a Friday night,
Then woke up on Saturday lone.
I wish; I made this whole story up.
There's no one to call on the phone....

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Stopped a front a marble alter
guilt of crosses to bear,
unrepentant sins left to falter, 
a damage beyond repair.
Awakening a slumbered light
a soulless heart to fill,
burning a fuse that refuses to ignite
revulsion of the catholic swill.
Devils of a demented scroll,
souls rise to an angels call,
masquerading with unfashionable droll
death ultimately succumbs us all.
Divided souls of subtle pragmatics
 an unyielding faith of fruitlessness fanatics....

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No, my Lord,

Mercy, for their wretched souls, I could

Never ask

Let them burn into eternity for their atrocious crimes,

Committed against humanity 

And

Against the law of Thy infinite love !*




© Demetrios Trifiatis
  07 FEBRUARY 2015

*After burning a Jordanian pilot alive, decapitating two Japanese 
journalists and killing a woman for not wearing shoes, yesterday the 
fanatics decapitated a father and a son in Iraq. When all this end?...

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