An Old Widow
An old widow sat by the light of her flame,
Waiting for someone, but nobody came,
Then the wax began welting 'neath the heat of its wick,
Till her candle had dripped to the end of its stick.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Sonnet: Life’s Candle Flame
Our life is like a candle-wick aflame,
Whose glowing brightness drives darkness away,
And keeps on burning though a fierce Wind came,
To sputter, spew forth smoke, all night ‘til day.
A blowing Gale can make us burn too fast;
The wind can put the flame off premature;
Both wick and wax must synchronously last;
Our teacher best is dear Mother Nature.
How long each candle lasts? No one can tell;
How bright the flame can be? Depends on us;
Yet, some waste wick and wax to burn like hell!
God expects us to burn steady sans fuss.
A candle ought to light the world that’s dark;
Yet, burn with steadiness without a spark!
5-18-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Babylon Candle
I see your smoke curling up
your tiny flame trembles
black in the center
I smile
what heat can you bring?
can you light my way?
what lies in the shadows
just outside my pool of light?
I will not be frightened
I promise
maybe curious
I will creep and tip-toe and sneak in the night
you my only light
dripping
waning
waxing
melting, hot and liquid
light my path
that I will tread
till my hardy light goes out
a lump of wax all that remains of my journey
'How many miles to Babylon?
Three score miles and ten.
Can I get there by candle-light?
Yes, and back again.
If your heels are nimble and light,
You may get there by candle-light.'
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
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Meditations Upon A Candle
Man's like a candle in a candlestick,
Made up of tallow and a little wick;
And as the candle when it is not lighted,
So is he who is in his sins benighted.
Nor can a man his soul with grace inspire,
More than can candles set themselves on fire.
Candles receive their light from what they are not;
Men grace from Him for whom at first they care not.
We manage candles when they take the fire;
God men, when he with grace doth them inspire.
And biggest candles give the better light,
As grace on biggest sinners shines most bright.
The candle shines to make another see,
A saint unto his neighbour light should be.
The blinking candle we do much despise,
Saints dim of light are high in no man's eyes.
Again, though it may seem to some a riddle,
We use to light our candles at the middle.
True light doth at the candle's end appear,
And grace the heart first reaches by the ear.
But 'tis the wick the fire doth kindle on,
As 'tis the heart that grace first works upon.
Thus both do fasten upon what's the main,
And so their life and vigour do maintain.
The tallow makes the wick yield to the fire,
And sinful flesh doth make the soul desire
That grace may kindle on it, in it burn;
So evil makes the soul from evil turn.
But candles in the wind are apt to flare,
And Christians, in a tempest, to despair.
The flame also with smoke attended is,
And in our holy lives there's much amiss.
Sometimes a thief will candle-light annoy,
And lusts do seek our graces to destroy.
What brackish is will make a candle sputter;
'Twixt sin and grace there's oft' a heavy clutter.
Sometimes the light burns dim, 'cause of the snuff,
Sometimes it is blown quite out with a puff;
But watchfulness preventeth both these evils,
Keeps candles light, and grace in spite of devils.
Nor let not snuffs nor puffs make us to doubt,
Our candles may be lighted, though puffed out.
The candle in the night doth all excel,
Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, then shine so well.
So is the Christian in our hemisphere,
Whose light shows others how their course to steer.
When candles are put out, all's in confusion;
Where Christians are not, devils make intrusion.
Then happy are they who such candles have,
All others dwell in darkness and the grave.
But candles that do blink within the socket,
And saints, whose eyes are always in their pocket,
Are much alike; such candles make us fumble,
And at such saints good men and bad do stumble.
Good candles don't offend, except sore eyes,
Nor hurt, unless it be the silly flies.
Thus none like burning candles in the night,
Nor ought to holy living for delight.
But let us draw towards the candle's end:
The fire, you see, doth wick and tallow spend,
As grace man's life until his glass is run,
And so the candle and the man is done.
The man now lays him down upon his bed,
The wick yields up its fire, and so is dead.
The candle now extinct is, but the man
By grace mounts up to glory, there to stand.
poem by John Bunyan
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An array of candles
On that corner
There is this array of
Candles
That you see
If you only look
Carefully
There is one candle
There
Its light is about to
Stop
Its wick so short
To last for
Another minute
That candle is my
Life
And soon it will
Signify an
End
Do not ask me
I do not want an
Extension
Even for a
Second
I had enough of
This light
This little light
I had enough of this
Vast darkness
There is no time
Nicer enough
To convince me
For more of it
I had enough
Let me say it again
I had enough of
You.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Flickering Flame of Life
As dusk was creeping in, one winter’s evening,
I lit a candle to add to the peaceful ambiance.
Sitting, with my coffee on the table by my side
the flickering flame soon had me entranced.
I began to compare my life to a new candle,
remembering that I used to be proud and tall.
Like a candle I just got on with my business
working and playing without fuss at all.
With the flickering flame I also had parity,
when new it burned small but bright,
but as it grew it became more illuminating,
and at its peak it danced all night.
Throughout life I shed tears as did the candle,
also aged, as it flickered the hours away.
Sadly I know when its light flickers no more,
my breath will similarly cease at the end of my days.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Beyond The Gray Sky
It is a gift I know
A moment of bliss that we hold
A firecracker flash of light then on
To the next plane soul remain
Come along if you dare
It's gonna be that you're scared
Lovely life I thank you
For the reason to see the pain through
Light a candle for the dead
The wick is burning returning what we have
It's who we are
We'll reach you if you're beyond the furthest star
Don't give up the fight to stay alive and even if
you have to
Find the reason of another's pain if they lose you
If not for your self then those around who care
like I do
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the Gray Sky
Light a candle...
The wick...
It's who we are...
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the Gray Sky
I can't believe you didn't call
What made you want to end it all
Wasn't there something I should have tried
To help you see beyond the gray sky
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Before The Casting Of My Shadow Stops
Sitting as a wick lit drips wax,
To watch a flame from a candle burn...
In a silent ending eventually to come.
Seems to add more light and meaning,
To my dreams to fulfill.
And to realize before the casting,
Of my shadow stops.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Light as many as you can.
I love you
for a long time.
You don’t know
how long I love.
you don’t know
how best I love
or for that
whether I love at all. (I love)
You may love
or may not.
If you love
I can outlive.
If not so
I will short live.
Can you lift
your veil to see? (You may)
Be a flame
of a candle.
You can spark
many candles.
You won’t die
by doing so.
Again and again,
Love can ignite love. (Be a flame)
I love you
for a long time.
Be a flame
to light my wick
in addition
to your own.
The more you are
illuminated,
The more you illuminate. (I love)
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Oh God I Prayed
The light
of
my life
began
to dim.
The candle
that
burned so
brightly.
Began
to
flicker.
My heart
slumped
in
despair.
Oh God!
I
prayed.
Don't let
this light
go out.
Keep this
candle
burning.
poem by Heather Burns
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Moths
The leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came.
And a new breeze chattered
In its may-bud tenderness ---
Sending water-lillies sailing
As she turned to get undressed.
And the long night awakened
And we soared on powdered wings ---
Circling our tomorrows
In the wary month of spring.
Chasing shadows slipping
In a magic lantern slide ---
Creatures of the candle
On a night-light-ride.
Dipping and weaving --- flutter
Through the golden needles eye
In our haystack madness. butterfly-stroking
On a spring-tide high.
Lifes too long (as the lemming said)
As the candle burned and the moths were wed.
And well all burn together as the wick grows higher ---
Before the candles dead.
The leaded window opened
To move the dancing candle flame.
And the first moths of summer
Suicidal came
To join in the worship
Of the light that never dies
In a moments reflection
Of two moths spinning in her eyes.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tongue Of Fire
I hauled a match stick out
From its metronomic slumber
And strike it against its house
It ignited, flickered and sputtered
Until a tongue of fire stabilizes
Descanting the lugubrious serenade
That dislimns the fix of planets
And to taste the sulfuric savor of life
It kissed the wick of a candle
It shared its sagacity
And snooped around him
And decided that it was
Too harsh to reside
In this ubiquitous darkness
He folded his flame,
Seethed for euthanasia
Then died away
Whilst the candle cradled
Its brand new glow with pride
Cautiously in a frail bassinet
But a wishful whisper blew
Into its very skeleton
Vulnerably naked and hapless
It shivered and cringed
The tongue of fire was gone
Devoured by an innocuous gesture
With all the unheeded wishes
Into the sepulchral fathoms
And the world shriveled
From its sanguine glow
The candle melted tears
From the incredulous life giving
But light is ephemeral
While darkness is eternal
And its life will
Never come back.
poem by Norman Santos
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for FUGUSHIMA....
at dawn we again lighted
the lone candle at the altar
we will not blow the light off
till nighttime
till it consumes itself
till we light another candle again
this small light is our offering
to the engulfing darkness of this universe
it is this light that prays in silence
together with those distant stars in the heavens...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shes Gone
A blackened wick is what remains
The flame was blown out just recently
Although the candle hadnt burned down to the stick
It wont be lit again, the day wont be so bright
We dont know what she may have been
All we know is what she left behind
An apartment cluttered with childrens toys,
Photos of good times
In the bedroom, theres sheets on the windows
Theres a four poster bed for a reason
Theres a box on the floor full of secrets
It wont be opened
Here older boys and girls would play
All inhibitions were left behind
As the door would close, her face began to shine
This was her finest hour, this was her finest time
Now, shes gone, and its not gonna be alright, not for me
Shes gone, but not forgotten, shes still here
In all those years she touched so many lives
Whos gonna watch the little girl she left behind?
Carol anne stands alone in the school yard
All the other children have gone
After waiting for hours,
She cant understand why her mother left her sad
In the darkness she sees definition
In the silence, she hears someone calling
After nightmares, she lies in bed screaming
But theres no reaction
Theres no one listening, theres no one
Now, shes gone, and its never gonna be alright, not for me,
Shes gone
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The soul of eternal love
Chase me like a mirror
Into the silvery pond
Chase me like a bird
Into the buds of spring
Chase me like a flame
Along a candle wick
And there we'll share
The light of love
The birth of love
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Love Is Like A Candle
Sometimes a candle flickers
as if it is going out.
The light will dim a bit,
but with some loving care,
the flame will rekindle there.
Love is like a candle,
sometimes its light might fade.
It just needs a little something
to rekindle the flame
of passion again.
7 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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A Candle In The Window
Written by susan longacre, walt aldridge, and gary baker
Theres a road that I remember leading to a special place
Where the door was always open to a smiling face
Theres a picture on the mantle of a boy that looks like me
Its always the same, theres a stocking with my name
And a candle in the window, a flame against the night
Theres a candle in the window, its like gods perfect light
It dont take a lot of money to know what riches are
Just a candle in the window
Maybe its just wishful thiking I can hear the sleigh bells ring
Almost taste teh pie shes baking, its christmas eve
And theres a candle in the window, a flame against the night
The candle in the window, its like gods perfect light
It dont take a lot of money to know what riches are
Just a candle in the window and christmas in your heart
Wherever the years may take me no matter how far I go
Theres going to be a candle burning, its always nice to know
It dont take a lot of money to know what riches are
Just a candle in the window and christmas in your heart
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Candle And A Man.
Someone lights a candle
And I see the things around.
A candle must burn like this
Nay, every candle must burn like this.
I begin to tell every one.
A candle dies as it lives for us
And we appear to live while we travel towards the end.
A candle lives and lives while it appears to be dying..
A lot we have to learn.
I begin to learn none.
It`s a candle which lives and lives throws greater questions
And I begin to be introceptive
-A mental exercise on a confined mind.
When shall I begin to live like a candle?
When shall I give out a flame that lives?
The questions begin to boomerang on me
As I sit in the candle light and see everything.
I see everything?
I miss to see a candle too.
The ghost of a candle haunts me.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Candle Of Hope
In incandescing moods,
we fly on silver wings
around a blue tinted moon
igniting failing stars
with a candle of hope.
Our wings of silver
sparkle in the sun
as we sail in a cosmic smile
looking down on frailing things
touching them with the gentle flame
from our candle of hope.
Rejuvenating all of whom
touch the candle flame,
awakening their inner light
so it will shine bright again.
10 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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The Future is a Light
The future is a light
A moon
But there is a storm
And black clouds obstruct my view
The future is a light
A lamp
But the shade is dark
And the bulb is cracked
The future is a light
A candle
But the wind heaves
And the wick is short
The future is a light
A star
But it has shined too long
And must die soon
The future is a light
A reason
But it has disappeared
And so shall I
poem by Anonymous Person
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Light Blub and the Candle
Candle: 'You think your so bright.'
Light Blub: 'I'm supposed to be that way.'
But at least I don't go out, everytime a breeze blows in.'
Candle: 'Hey I have been here longer than you.'
Light Blub: 'Edison invented me, who invented you? '
Candle: 'Don't really know for sure, but I have been around longer.'
Light Blub: 'You already said that.'
Candle: ' I get so mad, everytime someone says, they have an idea
they compare it to a light blub.'
Light Blub: 'Who else.'
Candle: ' When the power goes out, were the first things people reach
for.'
Light Blub: 'Yes, but as soon as the power comes back on, they put
you away.'
Edison: 'Listen here you two, you both serve a purpose and are
needed very much, don't you see.'
Light Blub: ' He's right, I'm sorry candle.'
Candle: 'Your forgiven, light blub, so am I.'
(4-11-07)