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Neutrals are soused from above, and singed from below.
The gnat trusting itself to the flame is singed.
Loneliness Revealed
Loneliness apart from countless charms -
0nly sadness stays. Once each other's arms
NEw joys announced each day. Naught comforts heart
Lonely left bereft, dreams far apart.
Intense pain reigns, lost happiness disarms
Novel's happy ending, singed sing no psalms.
Eternal dark shrouds quest for counterpart -
Sole way where soul-play joins twinned yin-yang part,
Sharing warp weft web, uniting palms
Remaining clasped together. Heart's hope
Essence singed, once spanned heart's spectrum chart.
Vain is nostalgia, nothing can impart
Essential emotions Time's effect embalms
As memories are deep-frozen. Nothing calms.
Links two once knew seem closed, dreams put on ice,
EDited out is tender wedding white.
(5 March 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Cannibal
We found each other hungry, thirsty,
and singed by love.
Seems,
we've being charred by it again
You left me...
a rapacious lioness.
I commence to rage,
strangling on anger,
I lost my way.
Then lay a weaken prey.
Rush upon me
you hungry lion!
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Peace Will Be On The Earth
When wars launched for peace,
Will finish by consuming their ferocity,
And they will eliminate,
The signs of life on the Earth,
And when the planet,
Will go singed and lifeless,
Around the sun,
Through the boundless spaces,
All sleeping, silent,
And cockroaches will rule the world,
There will be peace,
Yes! Peace, peace on the Earth.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Dirt Roads
It was a mediocre crowd.
You wanted to touch-
unblemished,
ordinary thing.
After he was drunk
he threw the blanket
and started,
a hate crime.
There was dark smoke
without fire. You can draw
a frame around the singed face.
I will not taste the blood.
The death will come again
to find the lover, after he
jumped from the bridge. There
were thousand ways to seek revenge.
poem by Satish Verma
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Waning Cynical
Saturdays at the patisserie,
I sometimes burn my arms, wrists or hands,
balancing hot pie trays and dodging chefs.
New scars overlie old, pink on brown on white.
I'm middle-aged Icarus with singed bat-wings,
in the slow burn of everyday life.
I plan on drowning in dementia,
I enjoy a good melodrama.
poem by Diane Hine
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Memory Of Childhood
Memories of childhood flash in to mind
Loitering from field to field was our trend
Yet now strikes me the memory of committing theft
In Act of dodge we used to run from forest to forest
For various kinds of joys we used to go on fishing
For mother the conch - caster - lotus we used to bring
Same song is singed by mynah and bird another kind
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Molten Tears
savage was the bond of weakness;
we were hiding behind the pain
of decline, abdicating the singed shrine
of nameless opposition, nowhere the roots
were reaching the bottom of truth, I ran
like river of life amongst the flames, you try to
resuserstate a dozing century by burning
poems, every wen fighting the jinx,
counting the tiny deaths
give me your locked secrets of fire
let me face the cold-blooded murder
in caldron of dead lips
poem by Satish Verma
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Whatever The Cost!
into the wetness, ,
lips burnt and bare..
hard hands gone soft,
thoughts falling like drizzle.
gentle, almost tugging,
pulled close to the fire.
till singed, still smoking,
left in the darkness to die.
a thousand deaths though it be,
with each a universe conceived.
the walls of Rome crumble,
to the shouts and the horns.
a crucifix, and a blade,
sharp on both edges.
the taste of blood and beginning,
raw, simple, and strong...
into the wetness,
whatever the cost!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Holier Than Thou
In the land of demonic praises...
They mask deception well.
Basking in torment and daily heated hell,
They are called to worship from kilns of comfort
To speak in tongues!
To convince those wrung with guilt and anxiety...
They are holier than 'thou'!
Allowing a congregation freshly singed to cool
From a blistering message performed to remind them
Of the instigating presence of Lucifer
In their lives!
IF they do not tithe in 'spirited' devotion
In the name of the Lord and His great sacrifice...
That have kept them out of the bowels of evil!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Looking For Tornadoes
some of us are born,
looking for tornadoes...
and spend our lives,
singed by lightning.
flying madly like moths
toward the flame that devours,
scarred by the beatings,
just living to feel...
loving the unspeakable,
touching the untouchable...
we smell like the disease,
while eating the cure.
driven by the need,
lost inside the wind.
but the flesh we eat
is none but our own!
set free by weeping,
we walk on the sea.
and roll away the stone,
knowing the tomb to be empty.
till with autumn eyes,
we bury the candle in a drawer.
have long conversations with spiders,
and sleep alone in the web.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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This Odyssey
The wound peeks out
from the round eyes. No lashes,
brows. Singed face betrays the scars
of last century.
He was fighting with his fists only.
Iced lids throwing the flames;
god knows what was the pain of memories?
He did not reverse the wheels of woes;
did not bring back the stream
lost in the volcanic rocks.
Playing truant from black death
a frail hope kindles the small fish
to swim against the current,
ruts of repetitions and bores of endless
barrels shooting roadmaps.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Moth
he laid aside the monthly Moth Gazette
he knew he'd rolled his final cigarette
too set in his ways
to deny his only vice
he stretched his wings
slightly frayed and singed
for one last flight
to an old flame
'twould be just a spurt of fire in the night
as she sucked him in
he'd feel no pain
a correspondent had surmised
another from a butterfly
took a different slant on things
but the god of moths
there where a single light-bulb hangs in space
had called him in
so he shrugged
and spiralled out
kicked his heels
and then inhaled
a final puff of sin
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Never Again To Use Their Stingers
One reluctant to sting,
May choose to do so...
With a stinging done to stun,
Those stung...
Never again to use their stingers,
Inappropriately.
Or...
Without just cause,
To initiate their provocation!
A sizzling butt is painful.
How do I know this?
'Geeesshhh, man!
Pull up your drawers.'
I'm lucky.
Not everyone is given a chance,
To go through a healing.
And a pinch of a burning felt,
May be the beginning...
Of an eternal flame,
That remains blazing.
It is best not to digest,
With interest...
What one hears,
From the lips of others!
Investigate first...
Before becoming caught up,
In the middle of a heat...
Without an escape to exit.
These experiences and more,
Cools quickly...
A hot head once singed,
But saved by the process...
Of patient observation and listening.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Face in the Window
I am a modest house, a house solely
notable for the fact I lived here once.
Its brass plaque depicts an oxygen eye
in which two pupils of hydrogen dance.
Downstairs is where I lit fires whose insights
with approach-velocity froze me, then
singed off into flame. This always happened when
I came close to a truth. Months passed. Years. Nights.
Shall I accommodate myself again,
a humble aquarium of lordly
thumbs, some fin de species? Of course each word
the blackout-moth mutters to my keyboard
shows the snowiest letter on this page is “I”—
must I now plumb its one remaining pane?
poem by Bill Knott
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Nonexistent Empire
The yuletide air gyrates
Permitting a dream to wander
Like lanterns in late dawns
Singed the dews to evaporate
And ignited the walls of my chambers
That cradles all these vessels
Forking, intersecting, subsisting
To carry a golden heart
That beseech for a hearth
In somebody else's palms
Faltering in every collision
And heaping with every abrasion.
When I find you slewing away
I will ferry you in a gutter
That leads to an empire
That houses all golden hearts.
If only I know where to find
The door to the secret crowds
But until then, I will look for you
And may be when we collide
We can build our own empire instead.
poem by Norman Santos
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Baltimore Oriole
Baltimore oriole
Took one look at that mercury, forty below
No life for a lady
To be draggin her feathers around in the snow
Leaving me blue, off she flew
To the tangipaho - down in louisiana
Where a two - timin jaybird
Met the divine miss o
Id like to ruffle his plumage
That baltimore oriole
Messed around with that big guy
Till he singed her wings
Forgivin is easy - its a woman like, now and then
Could happen to thing
Send her back home
Home aint home without her warbling
How she can sing
Make a lonely man happy, baltimore oriole
Come down from that bough
Fly to your daddy now
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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