Short Stoking Poems

Stoking your fires
With words, acts, and actions
My love eternally...

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stoking the fire inside of him - a burning desire for revenge...

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summer magic
stoking the campfire
under stars



posted on July 19, 2018...

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Stoking a burnt out fire to rekindle the flame, is like riding a legless horse....

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passion
for fifty years
rekindled every day
stoking sensuous fire hourly
love nest...

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You must remember this
As long as you're alive:

"Love is just a flicker
Needing stoking to survive."...

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fatherless husband
loins aching for progeny 
empty wombs await seeding
childless mothers cry
opening soft pocket sighs
stoking the steel thorns rising


Contest: Sedoka Me Any Subject
Poet: Debbie Guzzi...

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A culture of guns,
	An epidemic of hate;
	Domestic terror...

	Stoking bigotry,
	Klan pride & racism:
	Cooing doves silenced...

	Mocking clarity,
	Rising white nationalism;
	Justice checkmated......

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Twisting turning
Engine burning
Never learning
To slow it down

Fires stoking 
Tires smoking
Ever joking 
A common clown

Racing master
Always faster
Near disaster
The best in town

Loves to brag 
Will never lag
Checkered flag
The winning crown...

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Falling out with either
Friends or family can
Flood hearts with resentment,
Fuelling rage and hatred.
Forbear from stoking fire.
Find fair reconcilement.
Forgiveness sets you free.

---------------------------
Contest: Pleiades - F
Sponsor: Kim Merryman
Placed 4th...

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My pen would be dry if the world
  were the only cry for more

But Laura’s voice from within, 
  asserts with solemn command

Kindling my eternal fire—stoking the
  questioning cord

Burning away the doubt
  —turning me back around

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)...

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My pen would be dry if the world
  were the only cry for more

But Laura’s voice from within, 
  asserts with a solemn command

Kindling my eternal fire—stoking the
  questioning cord

Burning away the doubt,
—and turning me back around

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)...

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Do not want to 
be judged, after overplaying 
    my hand with clear moon.

            *

    Cancer was back 
and so were the strange remedies.
    Are you ready to become a crab ?

            *

    The beehive 
was empty. Honey is gone.
    My anger waning.


Satish Verma...

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Like a fire heats
the skin,
your touch warms
my body,
with fingers stoking
up and down,
like the tall grass
waves back and forth,
your love is like
the sun,
shining so bright,
it streams life
through my veins,
full of passion
and love,
my body burns 
for you,
because my love,
for you will always be true....

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.

in swirling swarm,
like wayward thoughts,
dark pestilence 
from nowhere
suddenly descends
upon verdant farms,
darkening the summer
noonday sky;


hapless, helpless,
villages scramble,
stumble-- fanning
smoky embers of
hastily built bonfires,
stoking torches' 
failing flames,
ah, frantic futility!


....

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Baby, give me a waterfall 
overflowing the cliffs of love,
create a river to my heart.

You, the momentum of my heart,
like a galvanic waterfall,
stoking the current's flow of love.

If doctors could cardiograph love,
and chart its flow within my heart,
the graph would show a waterfall~

a waterfall of love into the river of my heart.
...

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In raw blackness 
you want to find fireflies 
in the hedges.

Green on green 
I ambush the chill 
of a dying moon.

Silently you meditate, 
as the fog descends 
settling discreetly-

on your thoughts.
A cat jumps the wall 
in pursuit of a game.

Why to recall the father’s 
death. In autumn night 
I will break the vow.


Satish Verma...

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A hazy mist or morning dew scatters in the foreground
Unsighted but audible songbirds begin to chant stoking up the dawn. 
The night is the governesses which now fade in its shadows
submitting to the streams of light from nature’s early yawn. 
Icicles drip, earth spins, everlasting time in motion while
life’s festivities end but preserved roots begin again...

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INLAND

stoking the flame
here for the ride
sum of our parts
beat of our hearts

goldfish approach
swimming afloat
lost in vast lands
building on sand

inland

happiness waits
pledged sanity
hitting the keys
musical three’s

pose-able you
in cloudy skies
personal brand
alone we stand

inland



© Kim van Breda—26 January 2015...

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Ah, the exotic blend of new spice
and desires on the tip of the tongue,
love's seductive dawning does entice
cinnamon cravings wakened among

thrills of ardent aster in Fall bloom,
whispers and lips in butterfly tease
stoking hearth’s heat in surrendered swoon
harvesting lust with vanilla ease

on eve of Autumn leaves and passion.


Susan Ashley
September 28, 2019...

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crave for, dream of
   wealth, power, fame, love,
      if worth fighting about,
         must be worth fighting for;

              and one can attain a dream
                 the moment he  wants it bad
                  enough to walk barefoot 
                on a mile of embers,

            even fanning them,
         stoking the flames, 
     if need be,
to get it....

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See that Santa
He's by the fire
He's bringing gifts
a tree can mire

While stoking stockings
joy will sire
Each Christmas wish
becomes real spire

That all be children
for the light
When tasked for presents
born to right

That all who rate
their children's smile
Will do so
telling tales awhile

When all along
their children's love
Is more than gifts
but some-ware shove...

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Thrills of ardent aster in Fall bloom,

   whispers and lips in butterfly tease -

     stoking hearth’s heat in surrendered swoon 

harvesting lust.. with vanilla ease.


Susan Ashley
October 9, 2020


~ Second Place ~
Original poem “Beauty Of Day’s Harvest” - September 28, 2019
Premiere Contest: Rithimus Divisa 9 
Sponsor: Gregory R Barden

Submitted for contest on October 9, 2020...

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Saturdays, together, drinking coffee
stoking caffeine, we held life in our hand.
Looking back now, our dreams were too lofty.
With rich-bodied coffee, we saw life's plan
as one of beauty in a magic land.

Koffee klatches we lost somewhere in tiime.
But in rich aroma dwell memories
of friendship and coffee--moments sublime
when life held such promise and energies
and a cup of coffee held reveries...

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Fearless Raven, soaring in
the rich, dark chasm—
that world of shadows, echoes,
cliffs and crags chaotic,
the void of subtle stirrings in
a quintessential midnight—
Make some room for me
on your old, straight wings.
I, too, need to sense
lightning piercing stardust,
galvanizing mountains,
stoking distant thunder.
Let me catch a breath
of your pure, primeval air,
exotic and unshackling
latent, raw, unbounded....

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