“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label combustible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label combustible. Show all posts
Monday, January 13, 2020
Combustible
Blinded and spotted
with double vision
of two
dancing around
the ring, the pit, the issues,
the pyre and flames,
the names
we use
in Love...
The elements
were all presiding
outdoors.
The smoke moves us
around
the light flickers
and pops as it catches
on...
This orange glow,
we know
the truth is
coming together
these cold nights
bonfires seeking
vanity
are explosive,
knotted and ingrained.
We agree
wholeheartedly,
we are only we,
individually.
Painting by Paul Gaugin, 'Upa, Upa (the fire dance)' c. 1891 in Public Domain.
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Smoke inhalation
Desire
is
a fire
that
goes out
when
it's not stoked.
Man
started
fire.
A
fire
does
require
your
full attention once lit.
Flare-ups.
Smoke signals. Errant sparks.
Women
tend
the fire.
Desire
is
combustible
unless
retardant is applied.
Burned.
Back-fired. Scorched.
A
fire
Does
indeed need both fuel and freedom and air.
As
lightning steals its rightful thunder
We
extinguish
Without an ignition point.
Image by Carl Svante Hallbeck, (1826-1897) of Sweden [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Nightfall
Woken from a deep slumber, as if my name was spoken aloud. Only the spotlight of a honeyed full moon sings across my shadowed walls. Heart...

-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
When I wonder do we first think we Are welcome to the world? From the abyss of a watery womb we hear outside of Us w...