fire

Summer

She lingered over her martini, an olive

floating gracefully in the gin,

vermouth and humor sitting dry on her tongue.

The summer evening slowly inched itself across the tablecloth

until the light from the candle at the center

hindered its crusade to bring on the dark.

I ran my hand over the flame, letting it lick the dent of my palm,

inching it further down until

the quick pain reminded me of that first pinprick of love

the night we met. Do you remember

the earthy smell of the apples slowly rotting under the leaves?

The world altering itself beneath our feet?

There was a sense of urgency back then, a need

for hastened fingertips and my lips to always be pressed to yours, 

skin rubbed in raw emotion until it burned like kindling 

in the night. Your eyes were golden

under the lanterns, your hands pale birds

swooping over your plate.

In that moment my skin burned for the ocean

of your curls across my hips,

the charm on your necklace to brush against my thigh,

the warmth of summer waves to pulse beneath my skin. 

 

Just Ask, Do Not Assume

Folder: 
January 2019
beginning to lose her patience; 
short-tempered quite frequently no one knows, for she goes unnoticed
not one has seen the flame once so small for now its a blazing and raging fire within. she remains silent. only to concentrate solely on her journey at hand.  with daily strength and success for almost a year now. for she is true to herself on the inside and out; that's all that matters to her is that she stays true to herself. what people may think of her, or assume about her, or are skeptical about her, or why they may doubt her, or why they question to themselves about her - she has not a care for; false thoughts and untrue accusations honestly are none of her concern for if she did care, she'd be allowing the enemy to take over her thoughts in her mind she's only concerned about herself and her journey. she tries not to care; but deep down when she's alone she cries herself to sleep each night. the outside no longer cares; inside her heart begins to harden  once again, starts to shut out the world completely;
eventually, there will no longer be hurt, always being interrupted in her speaking,her thought or idea is wrong they say. being cut short in every encounter;rage is beginning to burn brightly, the harden heart; will reveal the truth about her pain those have caused her. her soul will be set free. 
avoid her, cut her short, no longer caring to speak to her; or to hear from her anymore.  a question, a thought, or an idea, even those encounters are practically nonexistent in her world;  
as brief as a lightning strike her soul begins to show from behind those eyes opened wide, she can see the light fading quickly;for in beginning it to burn brightly now in her eyes, she can see that it's going out. for when she started this journey she began to be happy again, that for many years happiness was absent in her life. until she found a new way, a journey that was beginning to give her meaning, 
a purpose, she had meaning in her life. although she continues to be successful, for she has not had a stumble, a slip, or a fall since day one and even today there is still none.
there are NO intentions or a desire to slip, to stumble, or to fall but to keep moving forward as she has been since the beginning of her journey. a step at a time, a prayer at a time, still learning, 
still growing in faith, still has love, the light that once began to glow is now being snuffed out by: the unasked question that they can't answer, the look from others doubting eye, a grapevine statement, an accusation, 
an assumption that others think to be true. the wildfire that started to burn brightly within her is now just a glow being snuffed out by those around her!
why? the fire of happiness is unknowingly causing her to begin to harden her heart all over again after so many stepping stones that have been reached along her journeyed path. 
Does she begin to feel what's the point? if they put out the flame, will she still have a meaning, a purpose the situation is being threatened. not one of them is willing to ask her the question that they have on the tip of their tongues. they would rather doubt, question themselves, assume things, which must be true...think again...ask the situation. her journey is a successful one; she still tries to help others: the good, the bad, and the ugly it's an act of kindness, she talks to everyone still from all walks of life. 
for she does not judge others even as they judge her, she lends an ear where it's needed, she just wants someone to listen, or to lend her ear to listen to someone, or to lend a helping hand in their time of need, that's not what others see, they see you with someone, somewhere, they don't see eye to eye with so, they assume and accuse she must be a failure... saw her or what they thought was a bad situation when all she's been doing is lending an ear or a helping hand to someone in their time of need. someone somewhere could always use a hand when someone is down on their luck in all walks of life whether they are one of the good, the bad, or the ugly. she sees good in every heart. 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Never assume the worst when it is nothing but hear say, it can really hurt someone within, it can break their heart words do hurt but so does false accusations, and rumors. Put yourself in their shoes 

The Birth and Flight of a Phoenix

The storm has settled after a long summer.

The skies are clear, but the damage has been done.

I am charred, left abandoned in the ashes.

The humiliation during the wildfire led to my death.

The world I knew and loved disowned me.

 

But a baby bird had risen out of the ashes.

Despite its weak body, the newborn helped me onto my feet.

It led me away to start anew in a foreign world.

After all that had happened that led to this fire,

I know now that my old name is nothing but a memory

Left to be scorned by bloodthirsty eels.

 

Be free, young phoenix. Fly away and keep your voice close.

They'll be coming for you when they discover you're still alive.

It is better to let them think that you are dead

than attempt to kill yourself putting up a fruitless fight.

 

They can deceive the world all they like, but karma has its ways.

They will always be overshadowed by a much more unified flock.

But for now, I walk alone with no one but the baby bird perched on my shoulder.

I see a bit of my old life in it, but it possesses the need to change;

A quality that the world I left behind is too blind to see.

 

Be free, young phoenix. Fly away and keep your voice close.

They'll be coming for you when they discover you're still alive.

It is better to let them think that you are dead

than attempt to kill yourself putting up a fruitless fight.

 

By the time the bloodthirsty eels see me again, it will already be too late.

Their lack of intelligence is what I have to thank for getting me to where

I am needed most the whole time I have slaved away.

Too bad that they'll never know that I am not the poor unfortunate soul that I used to be.

 

The winter has arrived and the joys of Christmas Day have given the baby bird strength

To regain the fire that I have long-admired since I was no less than eight years of age.

The new year is around the corner and it is more than ready to spread its wings and fly

Like it did four years ago. It amazes me to see how kids grow up so fast.

 

Be free, young phoenix. Fly away and keep your voice close.

They'll be coming for you when they discover you're still alive.

It is better to let them think that you are dead

than attempt to kill yourself putting up a fruitless fight.

 

It is no longer our battle anyway for our destiny lies far away from this mom-and-pop.

The Oxymoron: Controlled Burns

Folder: 
Mother Earth

*

The wind changes and

'controlled burns'

become fires of

deforestation,

burning many 

animals and baby birds

alive,

causing others

defenestration.

 

saiom shriver

Camping By jfarrell

Camping

By jfarrell

 

“Toast. A nice golden brown colour, please.”

A blue jet of flame incinerates my bread on it’s skewer.

I brush away my singed eyebrows

And look at Karla.

“Can we try that again please, without the cremation?”

 

Karla bathes the second slice

Within a warm orange flame.

“Perfect!”

I run over, hug Karla

And give her a big kiss on the cheek.

 

Karla burps in embarrassment

And a blue jet of flame incinerates my tent.

“Hmmmm… Okay, maybe we won’t go camping this easter…

“How about finding some bridges….

“to redesign in your unique fashion.”

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

james stewart never had to put up with his rabbit burning everything, hehe

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Building Bridges

Building Bridges

By jfarrell

 

Watch them burn…

Isn’t it beautiful?

That black, poisonous cloud, 25 years over South-East London…

Last time I saw my mum.

 

The pagoda pub….

Back then… burned down many times since,

With many different names…

Last time I saw my dad.

 

“Jim, you’re so negative……”

“Jim, you should really change your act…”

At least, on this one, I struck the match.

Last time I saw my, so-called, ‘friends’.

 

I’ve done my building bridges;

And all got spat back in my face;

Now I hold the matches

And I will set light to any bridge I see..

 

Take my hand and stand with me,

In the centre of the inferno;

The raging fire of bitterness;

The popping and thundering of burning hurt.

 

Put your arms around my waist,

And dance with me,

As if this was the last night on earth….

And now, is all we have.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

baby with a box of matches

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

It Sounded Like Popcorn

It Sounded Like Popcorn

By JFarrell

 

It sounded like popcorn

Was my first thought

A lot of popcorn

At one in the morning

 

Opening the bedroom door

And turning on the light

To find myself blind

As a wall of thick, black smoke engulfed me

 

Going to my balcony

And looking over the edge

To see bright, angry orange flames

Licking at the walls below me

 

Grabbed coat, 2 bottles of water

And a towel

Knocked door to door

Warning the neighbours

 

Went back to do the other side

But opening the door to that area

The smoke was too thick

And I retreated

 

Ours was not a serious fire, thankfully

And was quickly ended

I cannot even begin to comprehend the events and loss

In the West London fire

 

My deepest sympathies and prayers are with you

As I’m sure are the prayers of many others

And, again, I’d like to thank the emergency services

And all those who helped

 

Love does matter and can heal us all

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

my deepest sympathies

The Beauty in Love & Art

I doubted I would find real, mutual love for the longest time.

That is only because I've looked in the wrong places and have fallen hard every time I thought

I found a missing part of me.

 

The problem with me is I don't fit in when I'm in any other group.

All around me in my daily life, I end up doing things I didn't want to do.

My life is getting stuck between a rock and a hard place when I choose

To be something I feel is right for me.

 

You're not hard to please for you are a fellow artist who shares my passion and attraction.

We color each other's worlds and we help each other out when we need it the most.

I give you my passion and you give it back in return.

We are not dependent on one another because we can take care of ourselves.

 

The sea leads to many places and although I have not landed where I needed to go,

You found me and led me in the right direction.

With you and me together, "lost" has no meaning.

We are simply taking our time to get to where we need to be.

 

The forsaken world and everything that was wrong with it will be far behind

Once I leave what destroyed me before and look for who I am.

The chains that keep me from breathing no longer exist

When I am somewhere else in the consciousness hidden within.

 

The art I color is vital to me as taking a breath.

Likewise, the more we are next to each other,

The more I see how selfless and warmhearted you are.

 

The way you treat me thaws my own heart until there is a flame that surrounds it.

A flame that only burns when you and I continue to bond.

Only you can see and feel how special it is to me that you make me feel that way.

I dream of us meeting face to face so we can make our artistic worlds come to life.

 

You teach me many things that I hold onto in my life.

Being with you helps me resist temptation that hinders my goals.

Speaking my tongue to you helps me become wiser in knowing the right things to say.

Presenting my own art to you helps me gain the courage to keep blossoming until my colors bloom like summer flowers.

More importantly, revealing my hopes and dreams to you gave me the escape from misery I longed to achieve.

 

In return for your kindness, I give you my passion and complete our missing soul.

To truly build up trust, all we have to do for each other is stay and that's what I will do for you.

Living in her Head

Folder: 
2016

Demons jump amongst the tortured souls,

They skip across streets leading nowhere,

And hop over valleys of gloom.

 

They’ve built walls,

Destroyed dreams,

Obliterated all hope.

 

They whisper secrets and mistruths,

Spread gossip like 3rd world diseases,

Hold no accountability before moving on.

 

Demons blind the eyes,

Mute the mouth,

And deafen the ears.

 

Living in a world of fiery hell

That no one else can feel.

 

View coldheat's Full Portfolio