Short Combust Poems

Please open your eyes
Leave me alone with my thoughts
And all the years passed...

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You ignite my soul,
We combust the night away,
Your flame to my wick.

(c) 2015 PJ Bayliss

...

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Stuck on the runway
Held by chains, eager to fly
Your feet are burning
From all the yearning you will
Spontaneously combust...

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Half his mind is wandering loose
the other half leashed to a rabid poodle.
His toothy grin is as stable as a tropical monsoon.
He will internally combust one day,
if not, I will gladly light the fuse....

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Spontaneously combust,
Is a love that must,
Be lived,
And thus,
Be the love that goes,
Through the fire,
Not rust,
Through the ice,
Not dust,
Through the crust,
That layers,
Our heart that makes we into us....

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Did you fly
too close to the sun?
Did your wings
     ignite
     combust
     breathe air
     breathe ash?
Did you circle the sea
     with feathers
     with flames
     with smoke?
How free is it, to fly
beneath the opaque sky?...

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Diamond-shape chains, 
Pleasurable pains.
From you he will gain.
His love sincerely insane.

Sword thrust,
Penetrating lust.
To him sadism is just,
Your pheromones combust.

Hard as diamond,
Easy to apprehend.
His affection only pretend,
With him you've met your end....

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A spectacular burst
Smoldering embers
Become ash and earth 

We did not spontaneously combust
We burned beautifully, heating, lighting, energizing 
We could feel wind picking up 

It just happened so fast
Was it me or someone else
That threw on gas

January 29, 2018...

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you take me as I am
I take it as it comes
when it all starts caving in
and I start to self-combust

looking over my shoulder
your wind at my back
onward, on this trail
putting me back on track

grace and goodness flow
divine intervention wanes
over and over and over
it all ends up the same...

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there is only one prerequisite for love
it fits snug as a hand in a glove
beyond seduction of lust
one truth is a must
there need be
trust
it's the key
when feelings combust
it assures that love is just
and helps you to fly free as a dove
there is only one prerequisite for love


(Andaree)


Mar. 31, 2019...

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if love equals pain &
pleasure equals love &
you love & hate & together
we create, how should i
know if it feels good? would
you tell me, pretend you're
considerate & tell me when
to grin, when to writhe scream
& scratch- it's not about 
am i attached are you real
it's about mixing the solution,
combining parts- shake, 
stir, & combust....

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thought that I was in control
my mind manipulates my heart
now it seems my heart went rogue 
and struck out on its own

guess it got tired of being held back
being told what it should feel
the fantasies my mind could hide
the dreams that all seemed real

now I'm in a quandary
I don't know which to trust
a mind constantly rationalizing
or a heart ready to combust...

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awesome beauty stands
glimmering tarnished knot in the 
eyes of no man heart
~
yet hugs in spirit
congested it with thoughts of physics
spoils the purities
~
soul drenched in just lust
of spiritualities
tainted and combust
~
fair thee wroth it is
 about me not about us
I've come to the wrong
~
I lay my selfish
 burning  down please forgive me
spiritual beauty...

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broken inside this is why i try to hide fear or crying no fear of dying

not being good enough for the broken soul beside me

i wear a tinted mask i cannot let them see me

i cannot let them see how much i've crumbled this is why i tumble

i wear a smile i hide with my laugh my laugh is my tears and my shield

inside i feel as if i must completly combust

fade away dissappear into non-existence...

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Her power was the burn; she loved doing it.
She could snap and crackle an entire forest in minutes.
Engulfed, helpless, startled into submission.
She loved welding her sword of flames.

No forests? No worries. She could self combust.
Shooting her red, orange, and blue flames into the air.
The others stayed away, fearful of her strength and her temper.
She was an inferno now, loving her power to burn....

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Geese are
Not gifted
Spellers.

They write
Poems
In their eggs.

The letters
Cannot
Be separated
From their yokes.

In the court
Of the Blue King
Atrocious spelling
Is called “Goose-spelling.”

Turn of phrases
That cannot
Be separated
From its image.

Conversely Wicked spelling
Is known as Dragon-spelling.
Where quatrains
May spontaneously combust
Burning the finger
Of luckless scribes....

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When I let one loose in the elevator,
It was a silent killer; I almost fell out.
My friend left my side; she's a traitor,
It smelt terrible without a doubt. 

So I said, what's that horrible smell?
Everyone looked at me all in disgust,
I said,“I can't wait for the elevator's bell, 
 my stomach was about to combust.









Contest: WHEN I LET LOOSE IN THE
ELEVATOR
Sponsor: Charles Messina
07/31/2021...

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Slipping slowly
Falling down.
Intertwined
And inner wound.

Like a puppet
In a play.
Pulled by strings
As I decay.

Strings so used
They detach.
I start to break
On impact.

Lost inside 
A hollow mind.
Emptiness
You will find.

Pieces fall
As I crack.
Shattered image.
Fade to black.

As I split
I combust.
Pulverized
Into dust.

Falling fast
To not exist.
Then disappearing
Into mist.


©2009 ~FR34K0N4L345H33...

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Dragon spines and flames
Burn away you animals!
Cook your own skin!
Fry your eyes!

Dragon Kron dives through the sky
flames combust in its nose
flames burn its prey
eating it with one bite

Dragon Kron flies towards
China, Taiwan and Japan
Sometimes to Europe too
And it burns all the matter around

Like sharks swimming in independence
Dragon Kron dives in again and again
Its back spines dive like a killer whale fin
Spine by spine it dives...

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I realized today a deep existential anxiety 
Not for myself but for my country 
Which in many decades  
I have never before known 

I can sense it spreading, taking hold 
Everything seems like kindling ready to combust
Our eyes grow clouded and our breathing labored
As fear settles on the land like wildfire smoke 

I can see it all slipping away 
Like the weekend my father died 
Naked and powerless 
Bound to his fate

September 4, 2020...

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On The Banks Of The Blue
By: Melissa Ann Hardin
December 17th, 2020

Way down yonder on the banks of the blue
Cain’s mark resides, sad but true.
Fury and power intermingled within,
To combust in a bubble, of blue and white flame.
Blackened in spirit, powered by truth.
Lost in a moment, many days too soon.
The stench and stain of the deep, stuck deep within my psyche,
Fearful of fading, scared to be alone.
I am lost to the answer, my heart resides unknown....

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Home


I am in the midst of a storm,
leaves slapping at me,
soaked and frightened,
looking for a path

I do not want to run to you
You with your thick blanket
and outstretched arms,
promising safety and warmth

I want to run
like a wild, demented thing,
incoherent, through the storm 
like fiery lightning strikes the trees
and makes them tremble and combust
like thunder growls,
primal and naked

I am in the midst of the storm,
wide-eyed, wondrous
home...

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S pacious formation from top to bottom,  
P ulses a harvest moon in late autumn.
E lectric Milky Way explodes in space, 
C hanging hue spray a blackened canvas face.
T witching stars ignite celestial realm,
A dmitting dazzling gold to overwhelm.
C omets combust across eternal sky,
U nleashing brilliance eyes can’t clarify.
L unar beauty as far as scopes can see,  
A llowing man to unlock with magic key;
R eveals vague marvels in our galaxy.

Copyright © 2016 By Caryl S. Muzzey...

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I was unable to notice. 

That I was cycling through voices. 

I feel like a foggy shadow. 
 
I become possessed each night as the pain hollows. 

At least I can hide in my nightmares. 

Until I awaken to my lonely tears. 

At least there is solace-

And at least there is freedom in malice. 

As the memory loosens. 

I am able to walk away from the guilt and confusion. 

Soon this time in my life will combust. 

And I will wait for trauma to deteriorate like my trust....

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