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Poems On / About FIRE  1/29/2015 4:18:14 AM
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Best Poems About / On FIRE
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The border of this fire crackled and snapped.
It's undulating movement that moved
All over the earth's body.
It's leaping orange and red intertwined,
This fire in all it's glory made me scream.

It made me heat up, this fire of old and fire of new.
This fire's constant singing made me wonder how it had a voice.
But it did, sometimes lower and sometimes higher, and then
So high.

This fire was nature's mischief maker and he made mischief.
Of all the leaves, branches and trees around him,
And he made mischief on me.

One day I disclosed to all my friends,
This fire was not a true fire.
It didn't burn down anything,
But it so excited me that it did burn my heart.
It excited my whole body and burned through my soul.
This fire just lit up my life.

But this wildfire was no ordinary fire.

This wildfire was my lover.
For this there was no other.
For his mother had named my lover Wildfire.
Watching his antics and speeding around on the playground,
I'll always hold Wildfire tightly in my arms because he's so hot.
Vera Sidhwa

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Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
If his moon’s face had, blue-paced, grown a frown,
Maybe, if his wintered kings think higher,
If bone-robes of gold tried long to drown.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
If sly crying eyes marred stars and skies,
And had not washed away Sam’s happy pire,
Which wept three tipples true with his fine lies.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
If his hills had willed six steep-found ills,
And if his children’s chiding wasn’t dire,
As if there lives some love beyond his wills.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
And make nine lines of moonlight moving still,
And if his crazy cats would stop their ire,
And drink their skinny dinner for his fill.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
Yes if, beneath these seas, lush fish could breathe,
And each dumbstruck ivy could climb higher,
If some sober men sung well in Meathe.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
And let lost cold of soul burn urn tonight,
If his adoring peacocks could admire
Bold beauty by men’s death in fickle fright.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
Re-instigate red turrets in his seas,
If his smiling sun would re-retire,
And make quake flames for earth in each wan please.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
And make his clipped wings, with my sky, touch down,
If his mountains called all birds fine sire,
And guitars had laughed unlike his clown.
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
If his jury also felt false wigs,
Maybe I could synthesise a fire,
If his trembling hands could start two twigs.
Sean Godley

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All I Wanted Was to Make YOU Proud

This fire in my blood
This fire in my eyes

The fire that come shooting,
right out of my damned mouth.

This fire of the rage!
This fire of the pain.

This fire of the anger,
that is burning in my head

I feel all the hatred
I feel so damn used

Walked through streets so flooded,
to get a glimpse of you

I got nothing of you
I didn't even get a look

The closest i was to you,
was the radiation from my phone

I don't know what i was doing
I wasn't thinking straight

Just thought that you'd be happy
If i was really there

I thought that you'd be angered
And would say i didn't care

I risked my life!
I risked my health.

My family was in second place

You were first through my mind
You were my main concern

To make you happy was my wish..
It didn't come true

I feel crushed and devastated
I guess hard enough, i didn't try

It's my fault your ankles broken,
When the sirens sound, I start to cry

Did you want to see me?
Do you really care?

What if i'd been stolen?
What if i'd been raped?

Well, it would of been
all of my damned fault

I shouldn't take a risk
For things that don't matter

I took a risk for you
My life was on the line

I didn't even think it twice
About me, i didn't give a damn

All i wanted was to see you
I wanted to know you were alright

I wanted to make you happy
I wanted to make you proud

That you knew you had a girlfriend that was there,
no matter what

But apparently i wasn't there
I guess i wasn't at all

So maybe you want better
Someone that's truly there

No matter what...

I'm not good enough now
And maybe i deserved to be drenched.

Maybe i deserved to shed every tear that i shed
Maybe i deserved the cuts on my hands

Maybe i deserved it
Maybe I'm a waste

And at the end of it all,
who am I to blame? ..

No one but myself..
Evelyn Castillo

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Casebook Of Oliver Cyriax - Case 1# The Burning Bush (Part 2)

The smoke from his pipe
rose up like a small cloud.
For a long time afterwards, t
he fire in the barn
was referred to as a ghost fire.
The next ghost fire happened
almost six months later to the day
in the midst of the summer sun.
A passing tramp had rested
for a while in a field
and fell asleep against a tree
as the grass around him suddenly came alive
with flames that burnt close to his feet.

The local Constable was riding passed
saw the flames and dismounted from his bike.
Racing into the field,
he tried to beat out the flames with his jacket.
Still the flames danced around the tramp,
whom was asleep and unaware.
The Constable yelled at him,
but the tramp did not arouse from his slumber.
The Constable looked around
and off to his left noticed a stream.

He ran across to it and filled his helmet with water.
Running back he threw the water over the tramp.
The tramp woke up startled and looked around.
He stood up and asked the Constable,
just what he thought he was doing
throwing water over him.
Watch out for the fire
the Constable shouted back.
The tramp scratched his head
and asked what he was talking about.
The fire, the fire, the Constable replied.
What fire? The tramp asked.
It was only then that the Constable realised
that the fire was no longer there.
He was mystified how it disappeared.

It was about six months after that,
another ghost fire occurred
in the very Inn where I was staying.
The bar was crowded
when suddenly against one of the walls
a fire started and seemed to burn ferociously.
The first thing the customers did
was to start throwing their drinks against the wall
in hope to dampen the flames.
They met with little success
and the fire brigade was called.
The bar was evacuated
and the firemen came in with their hoses,
which like the drinks had no success on the flames.
As with all the other incidents
the fire raged for several hours
before dying away of its own accord.

The investigation that followed
found nothing had been burnt or scorched.
There seemed no earthly reason
for the mysterious fires that engulfed things,
but never harmed any of them.
Then last month the burning bush began.
When it was discovered,
an attempt was made to extinguish it,
but failed like the ones before.
Presently each night ever since
the bush ignites itself and burns for several hours
before disappearing again.
Oliver paused for a few moments,
stroked his chin
and puffed a couple of times on his pipe.

To be continued…
David Harris

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Poems On / About FIRE