POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

BURNING PASSION – PROMPT #60

Air and water have been our motivation to bring our passions to full flame. Today, express yourself in the brilliance of your muse ignited and write a FIRE poem. Be it a spark, flicker, or full blown blaze, turn up the heat and “Burn Baby, Burn!”

MARIE ELENA’S  SPARK:

DISPIRITED

Darkness descended within and without.
No glint of joy; no moon to spill soft light.
Darkness blurred the margins between night
and heart –
no need to give voice to the shadows within.

Seeing her need, he rose from his rocker,
to silently build a fire in the hearth.

Her eyes fixed on the flames, as if her only solace.
He tended the fire long into the night,
until the last log was nearly consumed.

Seeing her need, he rose from his rocker,
split it, and kept the flames alive.

~Based on my daughter’s true experience, during one of her darkest nights … with the love of a true friend.

WALT’S CONFLAGRATION:

SMOLDERING

Kisses long and sensuous have gotten us
hot under the collar and other places,
flushed faces and breathing rapid and shallow,
a slow burn and a yearning to explode.
We smolder into the night and are warmed
by the passion of love’s virulent light!

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289 thoughts on “BURNING PASSION – PROMPT #60

  1. Burning Well

    “Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.”
    Leonard Cohen

    Four plus decades and still
    A glance, my insides turn molten
    You pass close enough and I
    Imagine your breath on my neck
    And touch, feeling for the scorch scar
    I am sure is throbbing there

    Even in the everydayness of things
    You fire me alive, quicken my breath
    Heat parts of me I cannot deny
    And you never leave me ablaze
    To burn out alone

    You char me with scents of passion
    Under-laid with love unfaltering
    Dusky autumn’s blazing bonfires
    Hints of Rumi’s champa flowers
    Permit me to smoulder always
    Crave your flame

    Four plus decades and still
    You light my life, my heart, my soul.

    S.E.Ingraham©

  2. Meant to say BEFORE I posted that it was the warmth of your poems, Walt and Marie Elena, that reminded I had this one on ice … great kick-off to another lovely prompt …

  3. Marjory M Thompson (MMT) on said:

    Marie There is a special tenderness in your poem that shares a lot and speaks to the heart.

    Walt – yours is just….smoldering!

    Love the photo too.

  4. Marjory M Thompson (MMT) on said:

    (TANKA )
    Seed of love planted,
    Sprouts and streadly grows when
    Carefully tended,
    And watered with gentle hand
    ‘Til the heart ignites in flames.

  5. KINDLING

    Kindling – a friendly word
    for the start of warmth.
    Splinters, shavings, chips of oak,
    chopped sticks and kinked twigs
    then serious timber a handspan thick.

    The catalyst, a fizz of sulphur,
    prelude to our atavistic pleasure in
    spits, sparks, flames,
    and quietly glowing cinders.

  6. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Meg, profoundly touching; Walt, untouchable 🙂 ! Have a lovely Sunday all!

  7. A SUMMER LUNE

    when cardinals swoop
    down from trees
    what we see is red

    a flash of fire
    bright to eyes
    taking in summer

    a swoop that shakes leaves
    on branches
    like ghosts of old winds

    #

  8. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    (No particular form today)

    ONLY IN MY DREAMS?

    And so….. I imagine~~
    Where those eyes will
    see me,
    Where that voice
    will gently carry me.

  9. Pingback: ~PRESERVED~ « Metaphors and Smiles

  10. Poetic Bloomings on said:

    WONDERFUL start, poets!!

    meg

  11. Good morning! So many poems already! Poets are up early on Sundays 🙂 I’m going to ‘cheat’ – this is a wordle from some time ago:

    ~ Time ~

    The time was flexible, would blend, and stretch, and pore
    Like burning streams before they turn to steel.
    The time is hardened now, and out of breath no more,
    It clinks and clanks, and has a metal feel.
    It finds its energy in purposeful exchange:
    One forceful smile for one dramatic look.
    A bag of tricks to mask the obvious change
    Is dangling from an old and rusty hook.
    The time is pushing on, gets richer every day
    With sweet-sour lies and glances met in shame,
    Beneath the wilted flowers and letters tucked away
    It keeps a spark in memory of the flame.

  12. Marie, Walt, just read your poems. Yours moved me so, Marie. So much truth and compassion in it.
    And your poem is just sizzling, Walt! 🙂 Love it.

    • claudsy on said:

      Have to agree wholeheartedly with you on this, Happy. Marie, I’m so glad that your daughter has this wonderful friend who understands and can do without instruction what she most needs at the time.

      And Walt, you’re becoming a master of the sensual poem. Love them all.

  13. RELEASE

    I watch the flickering candle
    Through eyes that burn with tears.
    I wish that I could get a handle
    On all my stress and fears.

    The day has burned into my soul;
    A tight, barbed wire noose.
    But the dancing flame makes me whole,
    And turns my spirit loose.

    Our lives are busy, strained and stressed.
    Techniques we must employ
    By finding how we can be blessed
    With simple moments of joy.

  14. Aphrodite

    Please don’t look at me
    like that – we’re in this meeting
    until five o’clock
    and the air conditioning
    doesn’t seem to be working.

    Please don’t look at me
    over your glasses, like you’re
    a librarian
    and I am late with a book.

    Please don’t look at me
    while you run your tongue around
    the rim of your glass.

    Please don’t look at me
    like Aphrodite in heels.

    Please don’t look at me.

    Please.

  15. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    Hee, hee, this brought smiles, thank you!

  16. YOU ARE

    The star of the wood,
    the light in each eye,
    the midsummer whisper
    of thank you.

  17. BarbedBU

    You know how it is
    when you try to type,
    and you spell a word
    so incredibly bad
    that your spell check
    has no idea
    what you’re trying to say
    and your words
    become flaming red.

    I know how it was
    when a father flipped
    his children aside
    and just walked away.

    We all stood around
    shaking our heads
    like too much pepper,
    on charred pieces of meat.

    But that was all
    he served us,
    and we are hungry
    still.

    • So powerful, Patricia. I am stunned.

    • janeshlensky on said:

      Linda’s right! Powerful! The ending leaves us hungry with you.

    • Patricia, makes my heart hurt this day. No one knows till they’ve been there…so well said. Penetrating.

    • Patricia, this is a gem. I could feel my stomach flip reading it.

    • Wow, Patricia. Just Wow.

    • Thank you, all. It is difficult sharing painful experiences. I am always conscious of my family member’s reactions, so I haven’t posted this yet on my personal blog, Expressive Domain, where many of them might read it. I doubt they would stop in here. I am the third child of eight children. Four girls, then four boys. Our father left when I was a sophomore in high school, but of course, the boys were younger. He left to marry a different woman and fathered three other children. I have seen my half brothers and sister less than you can count on one hand, and my father only a few times more. These meetings have always been painful, uncomfortable encounters. Worse yet, I am saddened that my daughter has never known her grandfather.

      • Poetic Bloomings on said:

        Patricia,

        I’m eternal and profoundly thankful that I can’t relate to this loss of a father. Your poem and its ending are gut wrenching. It is so well written and speaks so strongly that these few words, in my opinion, say far more than could a novel on the same topic. Incredibly well done.

        Hugs to you, my friend.
        Marie

  18. This took me completely by surprise Patricia and was all the more powerful because of it … even more poignant given the day.

  19. Pingback: The Retreat | Awakened Words

  20. The Retreat

    Memories come strong,
    burned into the ground,
    as much a part of this place
    as the permanent fire pit.

    Skirting the mud
    and puddles of spring
    rains, stretching my stride
    to match his steps
    in the soft ground.

    Summer weekends
    on the water,
    nights around campfires
    with hot dogs
    and marshmallows.

    Autumn clean ups,
    piles of leaves and
    burning underbrush.

    Winter solitude,
    others avoiding the
    chill winds coming
    off the lake. Burning
    dead wood collected
    off the land, bundled
    against the early nights.

    Smoke swirls lazily
    from the fire,
    capturing every season
    before and promises
    of those to come.

  21. Marjory M Thompson (MMT) on said:

    LIMERICK
    I have a big, bad summer co’d,
    It has done settled in my no’d,
    I can’t t’ink straight
    Hope you relate
    ‘cause all thoughts of passion out the window go’d.

  22. “Putting out the Fire”

    Dark water
    upon a crystal sea,
    his love and his song entices me.

    White water
    rushing through mountain stream,
    the sound of his voice makes my heart sing.

    My lover,
    A balm for thirsty soul;
    He quenches the depth of my yearning.

    He’s water
    He is a waterfall;
    He quenches the depth of my yearning.

  23. Pingback: Waiting | Hoofprints In My Garden

  24. “Waiting”

    I had a spare stamp
    to mail the final draft
    – my short string of words,
    formal and friendly
    with no trace of emotion.
    I caulked the crack
    and secured the latch;
    – tried to quiet the racket
    in my chest.
    Still, the refrain refused
    to be tempered.
    The real words were waiting
    for lightening to strike.

  25. Laurie Kolp on said:

    A Stockade of Lies
    (Celtic Quatrain)

    Eschew the truth, frightening
    how you scrutinize others
    minor faults, lightening
    your own guilt, how it smothers

    feral flames spreading.
    A tempest through life’s blazes
    you think your future dreading
    puzzle pieces lost, mazes

    through which you run blockading
    eternal wisdom, accrue
    lies upon lies stockading
    distrust with truth you eschew.

  26. claudsy on said:

    I’ll be back later to finish reading all the lovely blooms. Mine are here:

    http://2voices1song.com/2012/06/17/poetry-on-fire/

  27. connielpeters on said:

    Flames

    F lames
    L eaping, threatening, engulfing
    A ngrily attacking
    M onstrously moving nearer
    E ating houses whole
    S preading in the wind

  28. Here’s something a little lighter (and, yay, I did 2 weeks in a row!):

    Air tastes of fire,
    charred burgers over hot coals-
    takeout time again!

  29. Mastering the Flame
    By: Meena Rose

    ”Start with breath for fire breathes;
    Take control or it will control you.
    Once birthed, it will grow;
    Bend its will or it will consume you.”

    Master Jang’s words echoed
    Against the walls;
    I understood not what he said
    For I painted with fire.

    This time a rose upon a vine,
    I focused and willed it;
    Upon my palm, a flame
    In bloom was born.

    http://2voices1song.com/2012/06/17/fires-of-desire-and-a-flame-in-bloom/

  30. Desert Heat
    By: Meena Rose

    She tosses, she turns and stirs;
    Sensations of wetness and clinginess
    Greet her. She sighs.

    Finally roused, she sheds
    Her clingy sleepwear;
    Soiled with night time sweat.

    Her body, now liberated,
    Rejoices and trembles at
    Breezy touches of night.

    Stilling herself,
    no longer alone;
    A cool finger traces

    A line on her back;
    A tsunami of passion
    Unleashed.

    Desperate with need and desire,
    She leans her body back.
    But there is no one.

    Her desert angel of night,
    Gone without a trace;
    Brazen in her nakedness

    She awaits the return,
    Settling for the light
    Ministrations of the breeze.

    http://2voices1song.com/2012/06/17/fires-of-desire-and-a-flame-in-bloom/

  31. To a Phoenix

    Each flight to life
    is rife with promise,
    your feathers fraught
    with fiery color—
    orange, gold, red,
    a splash of blue
    dousing the flames
    you kindle within.

    What sin did you
    commit, sweet bird,
    to rise repeatedly
    from ashes still warm
    from your last life,
    your resurrection
    lost on this world
    of arrows poised,
    your lonely gift
    your life?

    You were not meant
    to stay, only
    to pave the way
    for other souls’
    passions, your
    lessons tucked
    beneath your wings—
    that love sings
    amid a storm of hate,
    that life burns
    itself away despite
    our flight, that
    flame offers heat
    and light in darkest
    night.

  32. This is a loose Vietnamese Luc Bat poem form.
    (Can you tell I’ve been reading ancient English lit?)

    “Winter fire”

    This was home of my bones.

    These venerated tomes of ash—
    parched kindlings, mocked and lashed
    by hands that knew one slash would shoal
    my literary soul.

    My prized abode of scrolls lies seared
    to the marrow, revered
    poetic volumes speared by fire.

    Should pardon be required
    when reckoning inspires me more?

  33. janeshlensky on said:

    Flame licks
    whatever fuels
    and sustains it.

    Passion flicks
    my tender neck,
    your skin on mine,

    and I see no need
    to douse
    a friendly fire.

  34. Once again I search for a poem – entered around 3, or 4:00? I might enter it again, it’s been saved!

  35. Cells on Fire

    Her mind is afire,
    they said, a burning blazing
    quest for learning, voracious
    reading–variety of books, papers,
    magazines–consuming all
    with a passion for knowledge.
    It is a good thing, they said.

    Her mind lights matches now,
    sparks short circuit thoughts,
    confusing language, one word
    for another. At times, flames
    shoot up fueling delusions
    delayed for a while by medicine.
    Just when temperature returns
    to normal, embers glow, leaving
    her mind amidst the ashes.

  36. YESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Way to go Walt and MEG !
    Burn baby burn!
    I can feel the heat!

  37. Marie, Walt…loved your sparks above, they sweated out some great verse! Mine coming soon…

  38. Linda’s stare into the flame above recalled this poem for me, so I had to share it, especially since…it’s Father’s Day.
    Can’t let the chance pass to be a little transparent, as I have learned to be, and try to teach others to be as well.
    This was written long ago (12 yrs?), after the divorce, my daughters far away, young adult ladies trying to find some meaning or reason for the firestorm that came and went and left our family broken.
    All now is well. We have let the past burn away, and the air is clear. They have forgiven us both, by the grace of God.

    ———————–

    Cold White Smoke

    I sweep just cold white smoke today,
    the leaves too wet to burn in orange rage
    while long late sunset shadows splay
    across the yard to tell the day its age.

    Now or then up from the leafy heap,
    amid the smouldering fire of hidden fears,
    from silent ashes, glimmers from my heart will leap
    and cast a glow on my falling streams of tears.

    I stare at embers glowing red.

    I know that you are somewhere in the world
    I hope not hurt, not wanting–oh, not dead–
    I pray God’s hands are tight around you curled.

    When we meet face to cautious face,
    What words will you, will I, say?
    What will pass between us?
    A civil trace
    of courtesy,
    a proper hug,
    a briefly rehearsed play?

    I want to burn it all, today,
    the fallen debris of winter’s windy war.

    When we finally meet,
    again
    at some open door,
    There should be no cold white smoke in our way.

    A daughter and her dad should freely breathe
    and freely see
    and freely say
    what they may.

  39. KINDLED

    Kindle the fire within me

    Again, once more

    With a lasting

    Six figure kiss

    Lingering delightfulness

    With nothing amiss

    Yes, life is for this

    Hushed moment of bliss

    As your lips stacked

    Upon mine

    Sweetly abiding

    Dynamically

    In electric harmony

    Sensational savor of unity

    Dancing smartly

    A dapper jig

    Yes, so happily

    Do set your eyes

    Upon me once more

    And set me ablaze

    With the flame that

    You possess

    Yes, You possess

    There, in your eye

    I see it

    The flame burns

    Quickly, for me

    And for me alone

    Your love

    Is readily apparent

    Don’t turn away

    But fully embrace

    The wildfire

    Intrinsically

    Within

    Don’t resist

    But accept the flame

    And just let go

    Let it

    Engulf your

    Inner being

    Yes, let your ray

    Spread like sunset

    Come, shatter my darkness

    Enlighten this poor hollow

    Soul of mine

    Fill, saturate, and enliven me

    With your brightness

    Your rays are well received

    Helplessly, with all gladness

    The penetration of your light

    Is welcomed

    Entering my heart

    Through every cavern

    Hunting every hidden part

    Dispersing sadness

    Dissipation of self

    Into refracted beauty

    An Abundance of reflection

    An ardent image for all to see

    Within me infixed

    Imprinted brilliantly

    From eye to eye

    To eye to eye

    This secret wavelength

    We share

    To some, it’s

    Invisible, or unattainable

    But with you

    It’s reality transfixed

    Completely and gladly

    Substantiated

    Rightly

    Let us go up in smoke

    Together

    Incinerated

    Obliterated

    Ascended embers

    Forever members

    One of another

    With a spark

    Seen in the night

    Descended

    At a distance

    Ashes

    A pleasant

    Memory

    Settled

    Well

    Rested

    Blessed

    Dust

    To

    Dust

    Remembered

  40. Whoops…
    Just remembered a boo-boo mistake I made when I was flossing. Changed sunset with the following (Apologies for the repost).

    KINDLED

    Kindle the fire within me

    Again, once more

    With a lasting

    Six figure kiss

    Lingering delightfulness

    With nothing amiss

    Yes, life is for this

    Hushed moment of bliss

    As your lips stacked

    Upon mine

    Sweetly abiding

    Dynamically

    In electric harmony

    Sensational savor of unity

    Dancing smartly

    A dapper jig

    Yes, so happily

    Do set your eyes

    Upon me once more

    And set me ablaze

    With the flame that

    You possess

    Yes, You possess

    There, in your eye

    I see it

    The flame burns

    Quickly, for me

    And for me alone

    Your love

    Is readily apparent

    Don’t turn away

    But fully embrace

    The wildfire

    Intrinsically

    Within

    Don’t resist

    But accept the flame

    And just let go

    Let it

    Engulf your

    Inner being

    Yes, let your ray

    Spread rampant like daybreak

    A soft sprinting sunrise

    Come, shatter my darkness

    Enlighten this poor hollow

    Soul of mine

    Fill, saturate, enliven me

    With your brightness

    Your rays are well received

    Helplessly, with all gladness

    The penetration of your light

    Is greatly welcomed

    Entering my heart

    Traversing every cavern

    Hunting every hidden part

    Dispersing dark miseries

    Of the lonely shadow

    And dissipation of self

    Evanescent

    Into refracted beauty

    An Abundance of reflection

    An ardent image for all to see

    Within me infixed

    Imprinted brilliantly

    From eye to eye

    To eye to eye

    This secret wavelength

    We share

    To some, it’s

    Invisible, or unattainable

    But with you

    It’s reality transfixed

    Completely and gladly

    Substantiated

    Rightly

    Let us go up in smoke

    Together

    Incinerated

    Obliterated

    Ascended embers

    Forever members

    One of another

    With a spark

    Seen in the night

    Descended

    At a distance

    Ashes

    A pleasant

    Memory

    Settled

    Well

    Rested

    Blessed

    Dust

    To

    Dust

    Remembered

  41. “It was a pleasure to burn”

    Destruction is always easier than creation
    as creation requires desire
    and sweat
    and love (sometimes tears)
    always diligence
    always work.
    Destruction
    only requires desire.

  42. Burned

    Unloved, uncertain she stands
    watching from the edge,
    hesitant to join in.
    A spark of interest, keeps her transfixed
    as the laughter and camaraderie
    heightens her desire to engage
    in what she knows isn’t right.

    “Everybody is doing it”, they
    entice with plastic smiles and
    outstretched hands. “Don’t you
    like us?” Eager for acceptance,
    their shallow words of friendship
    bring her closer
    to the flickering flames.

    She should feel warmer
    as she moves toward them, but
    she somehow feels colder inside.
    Desperate for acceptance
    she takes misguided steps
    toward the fire
    that will soon consume her.

    © KED 2012

  43. Pingback: Into Ashes « my words are alive

  44. Into Ashes

    itching anger licks at tender scars
    ravaged body
    savaged soul
    flesh made raw by inferno’s hunger
    weeping tears of mourning
    lost hopes dance out of reach
    stolen dreams
    wishes robbed
    desires annihilated as searing heat
    consumes passion
    ruins delight
    extinguishes life

  45. Fire O’Clock

    The desert’s not really on fire,
    it just feels like it,
    July paying a visit in June and all.
    Then there’s that smoke
    coming from Chino Canyon
    reminding us it’s a long, long way till fall.

    Habits are changing already,
    probably due to that warm May,
    biorhythms shifting to a lower gear,
    awake at three, up at four,
    two cups of coffee by five,
    it’s the pattern this time of year.

    The stores open earlier now,
    allowing errands
    to be run before ten.
    Chores get done quickly,
    exercise done before dawn,
    hikes over by seven.

    The air kicks in at random,
    pretty much twenty four-seven now,
    it’s a truly critical tool.
    Life’s all shades and fans
    and ice cubed drinks,
    with an occasional dip in the pool.

  46. Lighting the Flame

    Small flame that I have brought to life
    In the midst of this howling storm
    How eagerly your small tongue leaps
    Upward as I carry you from room to room.
    We travel together accompanied by another
    Circle of light reflecting on the walls, once
    Familiar, now shadowed and menacing.

    You continue to share your brightness,
    Your small light in the great darkness
    of this frightening time of lost power and
    violent storm. When night arrived, we groped
    uselessly through the growing shadows–
    Until you offered your tender flick of light.

  47. Embers Burning

    No matter what the day brings;
    deadlines,
    phonecalls,
    pick-ups,
    drop-offs
    laundry,
    dishes,
    cleaning,
    cooking.
    One look,
    as you walk in the door
    and the sparks rekindle
    our flame!

    © KED 2012

  48. Pingback: Dragon | Whimsygizmo's Blog

  49. Dragon

    He breathes fire
    and slays her silent song

    embered syllables
    scalded tears
    consumed by crimson dawn.
    Smoldered shy sun blaze
    once bitten
    burned twice,

    he breathes fire
    and turns her cindered heart
    to ice.

    .

  50. BURNING PASSION
    (a shadorma)

    tiny flame
    fanned into new life
    by the storms
    that nearly
    caused it to be extinguished,
    a new fire now burns

    2012-06-18
    P. Wanken

  51. Pingback: Burning Passion « echoes from the silence

  52. Dichotomies

    I love our dichotomies
    Your dark bristled face
    against my fair cheek
    Tender lips
    crashing together in a violent kiss
    Your hardness
    against my soft
    And when our bodies part
    sizzling droplets of sweat
    become cool puddles on our skin
    tiny swells
    under the turning fan blades.

  53. Pingback: An Honor, plus a poem! (Passionate…) « Sharp Little Pencil

  54. See it in its natural habitat at my blog, Sharp Little Pencil:
    http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/06/18/an-honor-plus-a-poem-passionate/

    Remember Passion

    Passion – all-consuming,
    glorious blaze of every
    sense alive and alight,
    every synapse snapping,
    a fire for
    the belly
    the brain
    the heart
    the hearth that hums beneath
    her sheath and his jeans

    Passion burns benevolently
    for a time, somewhat contained
    (but if the team mascot loves the
    place-kicker, they head for a
    fireproof locker, kissing in shadows
    of the homecoming bonfire)

    The fire can consume lovers.
    The burn doesn’t always hurt.
    Passion will wane, but
    the reflection will remain
    in the rearview mirror of their minds,
    glowing on lonely nights,
    a long-gone ember of…

    Remember?

    © 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

  55. Passing the Torch

    The familiar smell of smoke
    Wafts from my daughter’s bedroom.
    I find her cross-legged on the bed,
    Teddy bear at her side,
    Red hair almost hiding
    The concentration on her bowed head,
    Eleven year old fingers
    Furiously scorching words across paper,
    Firmly in the grasp of inspiration’s fire.

    I’m torn, part of me wishing
    To tenderly stoke those new embers,
    Another part wanting
    To extinguish that flame,
    Knowing the difficult
    And sometimes frustrating path
    That lies ahead of her.

    Instead I silently close her door.
    This fire is not for me to control.

  56. Arsonist

    his words
    were firebombs
    to my kind-
    ling heart,

    his aggression
    gasoline thrown
    into an inferno,

    reducing me
    to ashes,

    burned
    to near nothingness…

    scarred…

    disfigured…

    but still surviving.

  57. Gather

    There is something about the crackle and pop
    that gives re- birth to story and song and imaginary worlds
    that get to trespass in the world of the realistic.

    There is something about the friendly sting
    of your long-exposed face meeting the goose bumps
    on the shadowed back of your neck.

    There is something about a bonfire
    with its mystery-revealing light illuminating shadows
    while masking the beck-and-call world.

    • K, felt the moment…especially the feel of the ‘long-exposed face meeting the goose bumps on the shadowed back of your neck.’
      THAT’s a real feeling…loved how you presented it.

    • Poetic Bloomings on said:

      KDixon,

      A warm welcome to you, and hope you will share your wonderful words more often here at Poetic Bloomings!

      Marie Elena

  58. Janet on said:

    My Colombian Lover

    I cannot resist you
    As I embrace your burning touch
    Craving your brawny essence
    Darling, there is none like you
    Weak imitations make me laugh
    As I inhale your richness
    Knowing your bliss
    Will not disappoint me
    My lips seek your fullness
    Slowly, purposefully
    I draw you in and hold
    Your perfection on my tongue
    Before your robust passion
    Satisfies me
    Completely

    oh, by the way, his name is Maxwell House Coffee:)

  59. Pingback: Winter fire « Writing On The Sun

  60. LIFE

    This burn, a blushing spark
    that sears our minds with darkened light.
    Charred we burn, embers bright.
    We coax, we crave twilight’s embrace,
    night’s touch and tender grace.
    To light, awake we race to strife.
    This burn that we call life,
    carving hearts with love’s knife, we live.

    Poetic Form: A Luc Bat Poem

  61. Janet on said:

    Of Barred Shutter and Storms … A Sonnet

    Pale whispers sweep the dark to hidden shores,
    Staid expectation murmurs on its lips,
    but we have drawn the shutters, locked the doors,
    Time will not dictate our fingertips,
    for I must make a study of your eyes,
    tracing the future of unfettered bliss
    While yearning resonates in muted sighs,
    I hunger for the flavor of your kiss.
    Too long the regimental tick of clocks
    has orchestrated the release of locks

    Longing shatters the dam of rigidness;
    The beauty of familiarity
    enriches passion’s unrestrained caress,
    Outside the day assumes normality…
    …here oceans swell in unrequited fire
    of flesh and blood; white horses of the sea
    spawn unbridled indulgence and desire
    We crown the pinnacle of ecstasy
    while merchants, bound by meagerness of dust
    redeem their petty dollars for its lust

    Pale whispers escalate, intensify,
    A quickened urgency ignites the calm
    in raging rivers crashing from the sky
    as heaven spills its timbre on earth’s palm.
    Outside the servant treads toil’s beaten path
    and dreams of recompense with glist’ning brow,
    while here, we revel in the aftermath
    of foaming tides receding from earth’s prow
    The sky resumes a sleek, unwav’ring blue
    We kiss away its salty residue

  62. Janet on said:

    Abbreviated Version…His Passion!

    Passion; it clothed I AM in flesh
    To walk a skull-strewn path
    While we drove nails through holy limbs
    He prayed on our behalf
    Passion; it bled from guiltless wounds
    It poured in agony
    To save mankind from death and hell
    He died to set us free

    ***

    Full Version… His Passion

    Passion; it formed the universe
    Dividing Day and Night
    It clothed the earth in miracles
    And filled the dark with light
    It placed in Eden’s garden
    A woman and a man
    And in the passion of their greed
    Man’s greatest need began

    Passion; it burns in mortal loins
    In searing, selfish lust
    It feeds the greed of sinful seed
    And taints the wanton dust
    Ten thousand-thousand altars built
    Ten thousand-thousand flames
    Could not redeem our wretched guilt
    Or wash away our shame

    Passion; it burned in Holy Wrath
    And filled God’s heart with grief
    To see the nations of the earth
    Blinded in unbelief
    It tore through Heaven’s glory
    A fire born of Love
    Compelling Him to leave the throne
    His Passion’s depth to prove

    Passion; it clothed I AM in flesh
    To walk a skull-strewn path
    While we drove nails through holy limbs
    He prayed on our behalf
    Passion; it bled from guiltless wounds
    It poured in agony
    To save mankind from death and hell
    He died to set us free

    Oh can we ever comprehend
    A Passion such as this
    That He should cover our sin
    In Holy Righteousness?
    Passion; it fills the law of grace
    Extending Time’s last plea
    Passion; it saves the human race
    From hell’s eternity

  63. janeshlensky on said:

    A Luc Bat as forest fires rage in NC and Colorado.

    Forest Fire

    A wall of flames eats through
    the underbrush, into tall trees,
    leaps up old pines, like these
    are hell’s bright torches seizing night
    by its scruff, worlds alight.
    Fueled by flash of lightning, drought,
    and winds, it will burn out
    when every ash of doubt lies cold.

  64. Pingback: In the Dancers’ Eyes « Magical Mystical Teacher

  65. Only time for a quick stop to post something before bed. Frustrating evening, but… the fireflies are out tonight, so here’s what I’ve got:

    Frustration flames,
    conflagrant conflict
    burns a hole in my belly

    I step outside
    into pitch blackness
    Seeking escape

    Fireflies flicker
    on ebony canvas
    sparking flights of fancy

  66. Marjory M Thompson (MMT) on said:

    A SPARK
    I never seem too small
    When with you, I feel tall and can
    Mountains scale, oceans span,
    Explore uncharted land, and brave
    Fast rivers, a dark cave,
    Gathering memories to save, then seek
    To score new, deep music
    Of love that I can keep within
    A gold and satin bin,
    Or dented rusty tin, and know
    Wherever place I go,
    Treasures held will bestow on me
    Reminders that you’ll be
    Always a part of me, a spark.

    • Janet on said:

      A Gorgeous write, Marjory. WOW! I LOVE this…actually as I want to highlight my favorite line I realize this…its all ‘favorite’:)

  67. fire

    elemental
    like fear
    a once burned
    kind (of)
    like love
    a brightness
    in the hostile
    darkness
    the reflective eyes
    of wild creatures
    drawn in
    hesitant
    in the cold
    reaching
    for something
    warm
    amazed
    their tough flesh and bone
    can become so tender
    awed
    that we don’t yet
    know
    what sustains it,
    how to start and
    grow it,
    how to keep it
    under
    control

    • Poetic Bloomings on said:

      UNEVENSTEVEN!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOHOOO!! So good to see you here! Hoping we get to enjoy your amazing voice on a regular basis!

      Marie Elena

  68. Fire and Forethought

    He came to me in a dream,
    pushing back the darkness,
    a coal flickering in a fennel-stalk.

    The fennel-scent surrounded me,
    like entering a house where food
    has simmered the whole day.

    Suddenly, the flame was mine,
    and I was roasting vegetables,
    basting them with olive oil.

    Those scents surrounded me,
    as he stepped forward, touching
    my hands and then my forehead.

    Then the fire was within me,
    and I found myself at a desk,
    writing poems based on myths.

    Before he could turn away,
    I touched my forehead and
    opened my palms to him.

    I bowed in gratitude
    for his gifts, the many flames,
    and he nodded in reply.

    As he walked from my dream,
    the darkness tried to return,
    but I held it back with my fire.

  69. fire

    elemental
    like a fear
    in your belly
    a once burned
    kind of
    love
    brightness
    in
    darkness
    a shining
    eyes
    wild creature
    desire
    reaching
    for something
    more
    until
    soft, licking
    kiss
    and we stare
    amazed
    this tough old flesh
    and bones
    could ever be made
    so tender,
    awed
    we don’t yet know
    what sustains it,
    what keeps it
    under
    control

  70. On Fire

    Cheeks ablaze,
    She runs away
    To hide but never quench
    The torch she carries
    So closely it burns.

  71. Pingback: “On Fire” « A Particle of Difference

  72. Pingback: Come and Get it! Freeforall! It’s Friday! « Margo Roby: Wordgathering

  73. My dear inspired poets!!! I’m sorry. I apologize for not getting back here to respond properly and get some more reading and commenting in. It is one of the many things that make this Garden special is the connected-ness!

    I’ll smooth it over with all the silky sand from our shoes and beach bag and leave the excuse that the boys and I have been at the beach all week!

    I hope to do better next week you guys!

    Warm summer smiles to you all! 🙂

    • Henrietta Choplin on said:

      Lovely, Hannah, just Lovely… There are so many sweet stories to unfold when it comes to observing children living life… !!! 🙂 🙂 🙂 !

      • You’re so right, Hen!! My five year old was deeply interested in finding crabs beneath the seaweed and the baby was deeply sleeping in his stroller…SO nice…I actually got to swim for the first time in a couple of years! Smiles to you and I hope your littles are keeping you inspired, too!! 🙂

  74. Normally I don’t learn post on blogs, however I would
    like to say that this write-up very compelled me to take a look at and do so!
    Your writing taste has been amazed me. Thanks, quite
    great article.

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