An Alien Place
Our scorched earth erupts into belligerent flames,
Fanned by the wind, they sweep very fast down the plain,
They seem to delight, in their playing of these games,
When blue skies can deliver no deluge of rain.
Burnt down and blackened, all the tree trunks stand stark,
Leaving this wide landscape like an alien place,
Smoke billowing, the harsh flames start licking the bark,
Like huge hungry tongues that fear forfeiting the race.
Hastening onwards, with a strong wild winning urge,
With impetus, flora and fauna devouring,
Stripping the land bare, as it starts on its mad surge,
This fire, that has come to be so overpowering.
These flames ever feeding, engulf at such a speed,
Everything in their wake, is now changed into dust,
But from this devastation, each tiny new seed,
Will shoot new once again from this earth's ravaged crust.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Fiery Love
I stare into the fire
it signifies my desire
leaping creeping and all red flames,
fire,
and its beauty hypnotizing,
fire
and its flames uprising.
sparks showering in the night,
feeding fires of lesser might,
fire feeding on life and air,
fire that lays landscapes bare,
fire that warms the heart and soul,
fire that drives away the cold,
fire thats as hot as the heat within,
fire that seeks to erase my sin,
fire promises of days to come,
fire that will unite us as one,
and then I pray for the same desire
will sometimes too ignite your fire,
two lovers burning
consumed with flames,
the ashes of their love
ignite again and again
poem by Arti Chopra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Siren Of Fire
Fire:
When the water turns to mist
And the flames are rising high
I'll appear to you my darling
To wipe the tears from your eyes
I'll dance around the fire pit
Running wild with the flames
But as soon as the fire is out
I'll leave you without so much as my name
Water:
When water extinguishes the flame
It will also extinguish me
I will leave you to yourself
To soak in memory
When the land is watered down
And you stand beside the sea
Look for the bonfires
For that is where you'll find me
Burned:
Don't play with fire dearest
You know you will be burned
Leave the flames to me my love
They remind me of how I've yearned
For the sensation of my fire
That keeps our passions hot
I'll stay with you until the tide comes in
But after, I cannot
Drowned:
They douse the flames with water
Putting out the light
I drown with the flames
That ensnared you all night
I cannot stay with you now
My flames have been drowned out
But remember whenever you need me
Fire will bring me about
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The guardian of the flames
Always there have been
something holy to me,
about flames
that comes alive suddenly.
It’s a great thing
to see flames spread
and to see yellow licking tongs,
consume wood
and to get heat, energy
and comfort from it.
At a time human existence
surely depended on
keeping the secret
of flames
and to make sure,
that the last glowing coals
do not die.
When I was a child,
my brother and me
almost burnt a hillock
and some residences down
by misadventure.
The more I tried to kill
the small fire,
that I started in the long brown winter grass,
the more the fire spread.
It’s a fact that my behind
also burnt on that occasion
from a hiding
with a old fan belt
and I learned quickly,
what the power of fire is
and how to act responsibly with matches.
Tonight I am the guardian of the flames
at the fireplace in the lounge
and I take care of the hot coals
and have to put wood on
before the fire dies.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm On Fire
Sparks are flying and I'm on fire.
I can't see through the smoke and I'm on fire.
I can't breath, I can't think
Because I'm on fire.
It hurts but it's warm and it's beautiful
You're feeding my fire
My fire of love
And I'm burning alive
And I'm loving everything about you
From how you make me feel to the flames glowing around me
But you're killing me in this heat
Can't you understand that fire is wonderful and terrible?
Can't you save me from falling further under the flames' embrace?
Can't you see I'm on fire?
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Two Towers Lie As Rubble
Two towers lie as rubble:
the television news proclaims it,
aircraft has flown into them
broken obtuse, collapsed.
There are smoke, flames and dust
and somewhere something exploding.
Twisted, scorched steel
is pointed against the earth, cut off
where building was near to the heavens
there are only rubble, pieces of concrete and ash.
Defenceless people have been killed without reason,
as if the human race has lost its sanity,
shattered, crushed, burnt
made from sand to sand.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dancing with the flames
Dancing with the flames
a fiery gypsy’s dance –
Fire in our hearts, fire in the trees,
fire on the sky…
Touched with fire
we want to catch the flames....
Dancing with the flames
we feel the rainbow fire,
we feel the fire’s warmth,
we see the fiery lady
dancing with the gypsys
so magical, so dangerous…
We feel the breath of fire’s world,
we feel the spirit of the fire,
we hear the rhapsody
of the fire’s wild flames…
poem by KrystynaMaria Postawa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Firebreather
As the wind blows and leaves rustle.
Fire spits through the air.
Smoke and ash fly everywhere.
The young and old cower in fear.
Young and handsome bursts out of the clouds.
Big and strong with a mighty sword.
Shield in one hand to fight off the flames.
Ashes fly everywhere but the hero shows no fear.
Triumphant roars ring through the skies.
Screams come from all directions.
I'll save you all the hero claims.
Flames shoot towards the sky.
The hero rises to the challenge.
A failed attempt at stabbing the heart.
Followed by many many more.
This hero will never give up.
He will not rest till mirth fills the atmosphere.
Jab, jab and jab again.
He must try with all his might.
One last stab, will the fire breather go down?
The hero hopes and prays for success.
The ground shakes.
Oh no a possible earthquake.
The hero celebrates with joy.
The monster is dead and now has no head.
The young hero mounts the head with pride.
All fear is gone but no hope is lost.
The hero may rest at last.
poem by Katie Diaz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Brimstone... ' (or A Cryptic-Cremation)
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Flesh and Blood
Wood and Mud
Sun and Moon
Craters and Crust
Flames to Ashes
Smoke to Dust
Ape and Man
Heart and Brain
Glass and Sand
Abel and Cain
Spend this Space
On this Earth
Cutting Down
Another’s Worth
So Much Hate
On World and Planet
Trying to Paint
And Stain Pearls and Granite
‘Til, Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Stop Thinking, ’ Iron Them ’
Start Thinking, ‘ Wash Us ’
Fire On Mountain
Flows Volcanic Ash
Fire and Sand
Equals House of Glass
Dirt On Fire
Smother ‘Fore Long
And Fire and Rock
Equals Brimstone
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fire Fighters
God ignites fire
He ignites fire everywhere free
The flames spread wild
Planting flowers jading we.
We are fire fighters
We fight fire the more it flames
The more it flames the more water burns out
Our fire trucks go out of control.
We are fire fighters
But we cannot extinguish God's fire.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fire Field
The fire crackled
Then exploded
Flames circled
Close around me
The new light
So close to me
The shield of heat
Captured the cool
Smoke clouds rose
Dissolving the air
As well as my hope
That I could ever win
I closed my eyes
Felt the heat
Then a rush
Of hope
I took the water that was there now
Spilled it all around
Flames melted into dust
Smoke transformed into air
My hope returned
I just won
The fire was gone
And everything was fine
Don't stand too close to the fire
Everyone says
But I have to
Or I'll never know
How to put it out
When it comes again
poem by Bunny Crunch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fire/Burning
Burning through the forset,
Flames of orange, red and yellow,
Lick at the trees and plants,
Scorching everything in its path,
Fire.
Burning my skin,
Leaving smoke and heat,
In it's wake,
Torching my hair,
Fire
A thing of beauty,
And warmth,
But feasr it also,
For its scorching heat,
Fire.
Burning my heart,
Blood fueling the flames,
Love as its oxygen,
The Burning desire,
Fire.
poem by McKenzie Mickey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Schizophrenia
And so I closed my eyes, my soul shielded
They'll never find me through the smoke.
by the darkness. Protected by the warmth
Like a blanket. I should rest here.
of the wildfire that lay before me.
The flames smell of Blood and Hope
The ashes blanketed the ground:
and the ashes float with my footsteps
a ground made from layers of dust
The dust will swallow me.
left by countless fires of the past.
I must find Home.
By flames only quenched by suffocation.
Suffocation! My suffocation!
And I felt the heat of those flames, too.
But Home is hiding from me.
They licked at my fingers, but I ran.
My fingers were frozen. Red and frostbitten
And no matter how fast I ran, they ran
Home will be gone soon. I must find it.
faster. A Labyrinth of flames.
I am lost,
Where my thread was burned and the Minotaur
never to be found:
would never be found, just as I was.
Home destroyed by the flames with me.
poem by Zoe Guillory
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The East Gippsland Fires
In East Gippsland the fires are still going miles of woodland and farmland and bushland destroyed
The huge fire front it keeps on burning it's way through the brown Countryside,
Fires started by thunder and lightning and fires started by human kind
Amongst every rural community a firebug or two you will find
For many East Gippsland farmers a financial disaster by drought conditions already hit hard enough
The fires that have burnt to death many of their animals in their paddocks has made life for them far more tough,
The fire quenching rains are not coming the fires raging onwards and on
But the financial stress for them will continue and their heartbreak with the passing of the fires will not have gone
A tough time for farmers in general and they are facing a very tough year
But when fire rages in drought ravaged paddocks sad stories of heartbreak we do hear,
Many homes have been burned to ashes wildlife and domestic animals to the flames have been lost
Between drought and fire many rural communities left burdened with the huge financial cost
Left by the fire that burned it's way through their Country financial recovery for them may take years
And they will remember the bushfires that blackened the landscape with tears.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fire trial
The university’s classes close
because the hell of a mountain above Somerset West
is burning.
There’s a alarm ringing without end
to warn everybody to get a beating thing,
while some flee and drive away to Somerset West.
Pine plantations on the slopes
have tongues of orange flames
spreading as if going through bushes of turpentine.
The fire brigade is too small
to fight alone against the fire
and to spray with wagons, just halfway up the mountain.
Male students are equipped with petrol driven saws,
loaded on tractors with trailers and four track vehicles
that crawls up the slopes.
Everywhere there are trees falling
and are sawn down and dragged away,
before they can tumble down burning.
While a helicopter in the air
watches every thing
and everybody pray
for the wind to die down.
It’s a terrible thing to see fire jump
from branch to branch, tree to tree
and spread from east to west.
To see it become
like a big orange see of flames,
that crackling devours every thing that it touches.
It is much better when the last flames are dead
and you come half scorched and utterly tired
down from the mountain
and know that you helped to stop the fire.
[Reference: Helderberg mountain.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The thunder cat
In the bush I see a strange thing,
a secret cat
that like a phantom
follow our tracts, shadowing behind
leaving no tracts of its own.
Red eyes glow at night
with the intensity of a fire burning
but every time that I really look
it’s out of reach.
Around the orange-yellow fire
where we are barbequing the meat
from the day’s hunting
I can almost smell the monster
where it sneaks out of sight
around us.
I wonder what has awaken
in the wild veldt, the jungle
and what hell of a thing
we now have drawn
from its sleep?
My.308 rifle and hunting knife
both lie near to my side,
but something let me comprehend
that no usual weapons
will stand against this monster
but at that time I am still convinced
that it’s only imagination
and the tiredness, the party
at the fire
and my thoughts are playing with me.
Totally unconcerned we go to sleep
and with time the flames
burn lower and lower
and there are only glowing coals left.
When I wake up with a start
a bright moon is in the sky
and something strange
stand over me
and it looks part transparent
but still with a fixed
dark form.
I can smell death
on the breath of it
and see its teeth glittering
and it’s as if thunder
flames from its jaws
when it bites at me
and an urge for survival
let me jump from the ground
to the other side
of the glowing coals
and its teeth clash on each other.
Next to me lies a shovel
and some of the coals
still have small flames
and I see that the coals
make it hesitate for a moment.
Desperately I grab the shovel,
scoop if full of coals
and when the monster
opens its jaws again
to take another bite at me
and I get the rotten smell
of its foul breath
I throw the whole shovel
down its throat.
For a moment it roars thundering,
is filled with bright white thunderbolts
and stand ablaze
and looks like a thunder cat
before it disappears into the darkness
and becomes nothing
as if suddenly it’s in another dimension
and everybody stares at me
with eyes huge as saucers
and from the sand
I pick up two teeth
that shines strangely, like diamonds,
but with an unknown blue-white fire
glowing from the inside.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flames Of Life
The fire of the soul,
Constantly burning
Dreams and desires,
Keep the flames bright
When hope starts to fade, so does the fire
When dreams die, the fire feeds on memories
But it's not enough to sustain upon
Slowly but surely, the flames wither away
The fire burns itself out
Smoldering remains of life,
The ashes carried by the wind
Soon there is nothing left
poem by Bloodshed 207
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pardon Me
Pardon me while i burst
Pardon me while i burst
A decade ago, i never thought i would be.
A twenty three on the verge of spontaneous combustion woe is me
But i guess that it comes with the territory.
An ominous landscape of never-ending calamity.
I need you to hear. i need you to see.
That i have had all i can take
And exploding seems like a definite possibility
To me
So pardon me while i burst into flames.
I've had enough of the world, and its people's mindless games
So pardon me while i burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me. i'll never be the same.
Not, two days ago i was having a look in a book
And i saw a picture of a guy fried up above his knees
I said i can relate
Cause lately i've been thinking of combustication as a welcomed vacation from.
The burdens of the planet earth, like gravity, hypocrisy, and the perils of being in 3-d...
And thinking so much differently.
Pardon me while i burst into flames.
I've had enough of the world, and it's people's mindless games
Pardon me while i burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me. i'll never be the same.
Never be the same...yeah.
Pardon me while i burst into flames.
Pardon me, pardon me, pardon me.
So pardon me while i burst into flames.
I've had enough of the world, and it's people's mindless games
So pardon me while i burn, and rise above the flame
Pardon me, pardon me. i'll never be the same.
Pardon me, never be the same. yeah
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Fire Alarm
Fire-fire-fire! Nigher still and nigher
Seem the tones of the 'Alarum bell' borne on the air!
Awaking with a start, what a sinking of the heart
Even the strong are apt to feel, ere they are well aware!
Fire-fire-fire! Higher now and higher
Leaps the madly raging flames as the cry goes round!
In the darkness of the night what a truly awful sight
Is the burning up of homes, while we listen to the sound.
Fire-fire-fire! Behold the havoc dire!
When the black, wreathing smoke a moment clears away-
The flames both hiss and roar as the brave firemen pour
Constantly the crystal streams from Engines in full play.
Fire-fire-fire! Fresh force it does acquire!
The rising wind has sent the blaze unto the other side!
Yet men are standing round in torpor most profound;
Rouse ye up! now fall to work, and let your strength be tried!
Fire-fire-fire! Two blocks seem one vast pyre.
Oh, pity the poor houseless ones-fleeing now away!
Screen them from Winter's blast, for they are on you cast-
That sympathy in measure their losses may repay.
Fire-fire-fire! Thank God, the flames expire!
For a cold, but drenching rain most opportunely comes.
Now honor that Brigade which has such efforts made,
And don't forget your neighbors who have just lost their homes.
poem by Thomas Cowherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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…
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Seeking
In many a shape and fleeting apparition,
Sublime in age or with clear morning eyes,
Ever I seek thee, tantalising Vision,
Which beckoning flies.
Ever I seek Thee, O evasive Presence,
Which on the far horizon's utmost verge,
Like some wild star in luminous evanescence,
Shoots o'er the surge.
Ever I seek Thy features ever flying,
Which ne'er beheld I never can forget:
Lightning which flames through love, and mimics dying
In souls that set.
Ever I seek Thee through all clouds of error;
As when the moon behind earth's shadow slips,
She wears a momentary mask of terror
In brief eclipse.
Ever I seek Thee, passionately yearning;
Like altar-fire on some forgotten fane,
My life flames up irrevocably burning,
And burnt in vain.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!