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Poems On / About FIRE  5/26/2016 7:38:05 AM
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  337.     

Fire Of Freedom

Charcoal fire upon the shore recalls
that fire behind closed door, of love
betrayed; the fire of bitter courtyard,
preyed into heart that wished so much
to love, but could not find a way, to shove
fear out, and claim the right, to stand secure
and not demure, to sad and threatening taunts.

Charcoal fire upon the shore, that opens
now a brand new door, for love to capture
heart, and re-found life, to break the mold,
that captive hold, that cuts like knife through
all desire, to be what once we were, when we
knew not the One whose love our love reclaims,
who stands now free, of all death’s chains.

O blessed fire of Easter joy that burns
into the night of darkness, with new and
wondrous light, that warms the damp and
dreary path of sadness, bringing gladness and
new sight. For even though we sometimes doubt,
we know that life has conquered death in victory
shout, that burns the earth with fire of new life.
 
Midifo Yearns

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  338.     

The Dog-Eat-Dog Plot

A lunatic eagle in a suicidal operation twiddled with the tail of an old lion and set it on fire.

The authorities of the jungle gathered to counsel to do something about it;

'We should not wipe stained with blood spots by shedding more blood
So let's unlock the door of democracy.'
Send our eagles in the sky
And teach the presupposed attackers a lesson.'
.
'Peace making flights!
ِ Don't get close to them
Something in their faultless looks may be frightening and contagious
Attack from high afar.'

'Ready! '

'Open fire on them
Aim at the flowery spots of the mother's dress
Fire, fire, fire, fire, .....

'The baby was not on her mother's lap, was she?
She was asleep, wasn't she?

Now all of the vultures fall down! ''

Over!
 
Seyyed Bagher Mirshojaee

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  339.     

The Fire That Burns

A surge is welling up inside me,
I feel a fire,
and it burns.

I write,
and the fire is cooled.

I teach,
and the fire is cooled.

A knot is tied up inside me,
I have to undo it,
help me, Lord.

I compose,
and the fire is cooled.

I profess,
and the fire is cooled.

This feeling I have,
the fire that is burning me,
it is a passion,
a passion for Jesus.
 
Jon McIntosh

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  340.     

Phoenix

I'm afraid.
After all I've been through, all I've suffered I thought fear had long left me. But here it is come to greet me like and old friend. Like you.
I'm afraid.
Your standing here in my doorway, admiring my walls like they were built for your pleasure. As if they could be anything but last hope of a hard man.
I'm afraid.
Because when I look in your eyes I see fire. The same fire that raged inside me until it consumed everything. Fire, to a phoenix is death.
Im afraid.
I don't know if I'm strong enough to burn again. To bring your flame to the man that rose from the ashes. To fuel that fire with my soul.
I'm afraid.
Your hands trace the lines and scars of mine. I can feel the passionate pulse of my heart hammer the air, electric with expectation.
I'm afraid.
I can feel myself smolder, the flames lit and stoked without my consent. My passion igniting in a billion brilliant sparks of humanity.
I'm afraid.
My temperature rising I hold you against me. Your fire takes me, bright and hot. I give myself to it, then you whisper
'I'm afraid.'
Fire, to a phoenix is new life.
I'm not afraid.
I'm alive.
Living isn't about just surviving without being burned. It's about finding that one person you burn for. Then burning together. Bright, hot, and above all...Alive.
 
Samuel Lutz

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Poems On / About FIRE