Solar Flare Poems | Examples

Barbaric Yawps

My mind is tribal, I hunt in the mud and slurry,
I track the stars in a wooden chariot
made from the ribs of a blood-clan crib.

My thoughts are armored, yet as articulated
as any youthful flesh, they cannot be washed,
or manipulated, I have an ax for every hand
against them, a caress for those
who choose to fight on the battlefield
of inspiring ideas,
a painted arrow and shield to defend
the commandments of ever-mutating gods.

A green tree within a high mountain
is my mind, a solar flare of endless creation
are my barbaric prayers,
the same orisons that now civilize the corrupt
and morally spent.
I am the heart of existence, my tribal markings
cannot be scrubbed away, by smooth-skulled
manikins or the slick prattle
of any grandiose legion.

Cosmic in Her Gaze

The whirlpool stars of the Milky Way appeared when she was feeling grey.
Mother-of-pearl constellations shimmered across her skin in the candlelight.
Saturn’s red rings spiraled wildly at her climax—
A solar flare unleashed in breathless surrender.
Turquoise desire bled into solemn greys,
And those greys married verdant dreams, swirling in slow motion.
To gaze at her was to weightless drift in a heavenly sky,
A vacation from this unforgiving world.
Her allure was all-encompassing, enchanted and unique,
Spiraling me into a pheromone-induced high
Each time she glided by like moonlight on water.
She was a celestial mesh of chaos and charm
Unreachable, until the universe paused and she murmured, stay.

Momento on the Moon

They say it’s no bigger than a helmet, 
 Half-sunk in moondust, beside a crater’s lip— 
 A sculpture of a child's hand, reaching 
 upward, fingers curled mid-gesture, 
 as if to catch a star that isn’t falling. 

Polished titanium, etched with breath— 
 yes, breath—frozen in time: 
 a woman’s exhale as she said goodbye 
 to the capsule’s cold silence. 
 Her lover’s ring embedded in the wrist. 

Behind it, a glass cube holds 
 a feather from Earth’s last eagle, 
 a photograph of clouds, 
 and a tape that plays a lullaby 
 in a language no longer spoken. 

Lunar shadows shift across it slowly, 
 like the memory of someone walking away. 
 No plaque, no flag— 
 just silence holding its breath 
 while Earth hangs blue and distant above. 

And sometimes, in solar flare storms, 
 the sculpture hums faintly— 
 not by design, 
 but by yearning. 

They call it Momento: 
 Not monument, not marker— 
 Just a whisper left behind 
 for the stars to one day understand 
 that we were here— 
 and we remembered.

Jokers Wildfire in Hearts

hollow the words seem when said to a wall,
bounce back with fear and anger to keep,
papal silence for the thrall to burrow asleep,
worms of thoughts weep by sunrise to fall.

skills of a magistrate in proper order would bow,
kings would castrate themselves to drink milk,
cows jump moons for the money pig on top,
steak and bacon sizzle on the solar flare.

where are we in all this, wondrous saloon?
cowgirls and cowboys, or more like cowards?
the paddle doors swinging and the guns draw,
would you shoot or hesitate, ten steps is all you take?

turn and boom it all flutters down in spades,
joining in this house of cards in the breeze.

A Momentary Dazzle

Sunlight tumbles
over an open window,
then swallow-dives
into a silver kitchen sink.

Fractals of reflected iridescence
dance over China plates.

A surface tension
between a faucet and a drop of water
creates a solar flare
within its liquid release.

I imagine a mighty splash,
picture an arching rainbow
cresting over high waves.

Buoyant beams
spill over the glinting rim
of a breakfast spoon.

April 11 Eclipse

April 11—Eclipse/d

two Lunatic Lune Poems about the Eclipse

Title: Final Solar Eclipse 

the solar eclipse
ended life
massive solar flare

Title: Howling At The Eclipse 

howling at the moon
full madness
solar eclipse time

Her Art

Her mind accumulates
the mechanics of metaphysics.

Pieces of something she is sculpting or
assembling - word-pictures
too intricate to be entirely recalled
upon a whole canvas.

She discovers these figments
on the leeched rim of vision,
where shapes are nameless.
Part of her mind
burns with the light of a kerosene lamp,
the other blazes as bright as a solar flare.

She has been building images,
that can only be truly perceived just once,
then after that,
they are just her writings.

Her Art

Her mind accumulates
the mechanics of metaphysics.

Pieces of something she is sculpting or
assembling - word-pictures
too intricate to be entirely recalled
upon a whole canvas.

She discovers these figments
on the leeched rim of vision,
where shapes are nameless.
Part of her mind
burns with the light of a kerosene lamp,
the other blazes as bright as a solar flare.

She has been building images,
that can only be truly perceived just once,
then after that,
they are just her writings.

A gem worthy of a crown

Happiness is easily found in a multitude of the sweetest components 
Grateful for you, often swept from the feats, of our hours, sharring meaningful moments 
Your citrines comprised burning bright; scorching everywhere
As an orbited sphere; willed they are a perfect solar flare
Climbing a summit inside my thoughts; that is all you
Beside me, you wrap me up while we both enjoy the view
One could mine for eternity; excavating nothing valued; seeking a gem worthy of a crown
But, I would stop digging at the surface of the earth; if it matched your eyes, superfluous shade of brown

A Summer Breeze

A Summer breeze captures gallant spirits 
they add a bit of a charge to the air;
The taste of strawberries and lemonade
bring about a season with benefits;
Drenched in aloe you are beyond compare;
Maybe it’s just a coconut charade 
that’s got me seeing all of these visions;
Heart interrupted by a solar flare 
I lay in the bed that casual made;
Still I pray that none of these illusions 
                   will fade.

Apricity

Inspired by the unending love my grandparents had for each other and a story of one of their winter dates.

On this cloudy winter day, 
the sky is gray 
and I am too.
I kick a pebble off the sidewalk
into the cold embrace of snow.
It loses its luster 
when neither the sun nor you
are here to lend it beauty to reflect.
 
As the sun reveals itself,
I am reminded of you
and all your golden glory.
The weak sun rays dare not to compare 
to the warmth that emanates from your soul
That streams from your fingertips 
every time we touch
Warming me until I fear I might die from
the overwhelming expansion of light and love
inside me.
My grave will read “cause of death: solar flare”
And all who pass it by will remark
“Ah, what a wonderful way to go.”

You are my winter sun, 
and I am but a specimen of flora
depending on you for life and sustenance.
When you die, I will swiftly wither away
in the misery 
caused by the absence of my life,
my source of direction,
my whole world.
You are everything to me,
and I will spend every second I can borrow
giving you all I have and more.

Winds of Change

The solar storms are flaring up;
Charged particles assault the earth.
Plasma distorts magnetic fields;
Effects are felt from Nome to Perth.

A syndrome targets human hearts,
Apparently, the brain as well.
Incredulous, the truth departs
Like dolphins, with a fond farewell.

The correlate, a new vaccine,
Not likely to be causing death.
The flares, more likely, it’s been deemed,
To stop the heart and steal the breath.

And too, the temps are on the rise,
Not flares, good guess, but fossil fuels.
The sun, indignant, they surmise,
Fires bow shots at this ship of fools.

If all will simply buy EVs,
Or better yet, a brand new bike,
The land will heal of this disease,
But mask and boost your little tike.

Do they not know a gaslight burns,
Releasing CO2 on high? 
Although it’s likely they’ll not learn,
The winds of change are drawing nigh.

----------

A somewhat tongue-in-cheek poem based on a silly Twitter post from NewScience (or a parody, who knows anymore) suggesting that the
increased Sudden Adult Death Syndrome is attributed to solar flare
activlty... Remember, everything on the interwebs is true :-)

The Bubble

I remember that night
when my mind took a walk
on its own.
Not in as a dream,
but like an inquisitive dog
escaping through an open gate.

Like a child living in a bubble,
just rolling around a strange land,
where mind saw itself reflected
through that transparent balloon.

The day after
I tried to piece together what I’d seen.
I know there was a man, a stick figure
with a head as big as a solar flare,
he just waved to me as I passed-by.

A black cat with seven eyes. It said it was 
an angel.
An infant about my age, grey haired
and chortling happily.

Today I’m only reporting what I saw,
tomorrow I may burst that bubble
and totally fall out of myself.

Suns Wrath

solar flare-burst the sun throws its tantrum, 
a clean burn this time.

irritating Sol’s not a good idea, he’ll hurl fire at Earth.

spark his rage you’ll be sorry, he’ll do more than 
tan your hide.



5-16-2021
Surprise me Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier

Solar Flare Alive

Rolling through space Earth enjoys her comfortable
Distance from the giving sun, of his light, with
Warmth enwrapping daytime life of verdant growth in
Goodness wholesome grain, trees, wind, rain, rivers, and pith.

Other planets rotating around the sun’s glory,
Venus basking in heat along with Mercury’s boiling
Blast of oven cooking for a star light to humans
Looking at the sunset blanket sky westward foiling.

Solar system gently rotates Mars, Asteroids,
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto at noon,
Around their star sun receiving his light circling a Solar year
Feeling through space his solar wind in a new day sunrise moon.

• Short Solar Flare Poems
• Famous Solar Flare Poems
• Best Solar Flare Poems
• Read Solar Flare Poems
• Long Solar Flare Poems
• Solar Flare Quotes