Burn: April PAD – Day 19

REFINED

It happens when you’ve been rubbed the wrong way.
It’s simple physics: building friction, harmful diction, sparks may fly.
Tension and confrontation pound with the potential to be abstergents
for your character, if you so chose.
Baptism by fire fissures into a schism where you must decide
who you are: burned and scarred, refined and cleansed, pained or marred.
The flame lacks mercy, discernment, and phlegmatic disposition,
but your burn carries the memory of hurt, healing, and action.
Let it smart till your heart finds the salve it needs.
Let it burn till the flame no longer breathes.

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How are you doing with your poem-a-day journey? I have been writing, but offline. Sorry I haven’t kept you all in the loop, but you’re getting to read the best ones.

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I write about fire a lot. Do you think this would be a good theme for a collection?

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April PAD 2: Hell Hath No Doors

HELL HATH NO DOORS

At this hour of the morning
perhaps someone else awaits
a familiar visitor,
someone else awaits footsteps,
and breathy greetings,
feeling a defined heat
like the flames crawling
from my confused fingers
fueled by fists, bellowed by trembling

perhaps someone else, somewhere else
is meeting a house guest
this dark hour of the morning,
feeling the heat that I once felt
like kindling that could snap
with the graze of a charged fingertip

flickering paranoia, scorching desire.

At this hour of the morning
no one dares to walk guiltless,
as sure-footedness betrays
confidence for what it is
 
broken silence,

but the tiptoes that enter 
this eternal furnace of our bed 
screams your blatant wish 
to only visit me instead.



Prompt: Write a poem about a visitor



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I wrote two poems today (the other one is posted in the comments at the Poetic Asides Community) but this one was interrupted by school and other obligations. Forgive me for posting late and thank you for stopping by!

November PAD 25: Kindling

Today’s Prompt: Write a consumption poem


Today’s Poem:

KINDLING

You stoke desire like a magic wand
brushing at the air, commanding
obedience and getting it, every time.

But in the aftermath, flames
of sapped Kleenex litters the
floor and once more

its you against me
with a pane of mirrored glass
standing between us.

This sparkle in your eye
is the torch laden on my heart,
the person I vow to undress

and re-clothe in righteousness.
See, therein lies the issue
of fire vs tissue:

All at once—both will be consumed
because a blood-red love
cascades from above

to unearth the dirt and stain,
pause to remain and resume
this life in greater light.



Today’s Ponderings: Still playing catch up!