verb conflagration
Fire river of words
Painting fire didn't work
Couldn't capture liquid
Heat, pulse, quiver, leap
1000 flicker wings
rising to thin dark
Fire river of words
Painting fire didn't work
Couldn't capture liquid
Heat, pulse, quiver, leap
1000 flicker wings
rising to thin dark
Air of presences
Unseen ribbons of prayer
Unseen ribbons of prayer
Poems are like this too
Looking into changing
Cannot hold flame,
Fingers turn to smoke
Burnt fists cindering
Looking into changing
Cannot hold flame,
Fingers turn to smoke
Burnt fists cindering
Why can't I touch a poem
Word sculpture smoke
Fire is where heat makes
Gifts succors lifts
Our bodies alive
Word sculpture smoke
Fire is where heat makes
Gifts succors lifts
Our bodies alive
Poems are tree limbs
Burnt offerings
Charring to writing
Stubs. Like fire, poems
Spark, make more poetry
Burnt offerings
Charring to writing
Stubs. Like fire, poems
Spark, make more poetry
Poetry a way of see
Ing be ing
Living burning
Ing be ing
Living burning
Trying to paint fire
With words, our limbs
A-light suddenly.
We become fire
With words, our limbs
A-light suddenly.
We become fire
Our heads toss up quick
In a roarsnap
Disappearing smoke.
They say it hurts
Or maybe that's the pyre
All in, a smoke breath
Consumed by wordfire
In a roarsnap
Disappearing smoke.
They say it hurts
Or maybe that's the pyre
All in, a smoke breath
Consumed by wordfire
Just letitgowhoosh
Creative immolation
Is that what we see
On YouTube ranting
Fixating word fire
Watching poets burn up
Soul fire, kin wraith
Warms us still
Creative immolation
Is that what we see
On YouTube ranting
Fixating word fire
Watching poets burn up
Soul fire, kin wraith
Warms us still
Write or be written
Burn brightly to make coal
Beds to help other
poets burn hot
Burn brightly to make coal
Beds to help other
poets burn hot
Eventually we rise
The smoke Star bright night
Join cloud people and rain
No one can catch us
Flickering soul pulse
firesong bards crisping
Bright hot flash gone
We've warmed a generation
Participated in eternal spark
Burn on now daughters
Expand burst blossom
Involute mystery dark
The smoke Star bright night
Join cloud people and rain
No one can catch us
Flickering soul pulse
firesong bards crisping
Bright hot flash gone
We've warmed a generation
Participated in eternal spark
Burn on now daughters
Expand burst blossom
Involute mystery dark
Scooter 3\24\14
this poem came written on a tablet and i was too tired by all the little finger touches to correct the autocap. Then when I pasted it from email to blog all the line breaks were lost. It reads differently, but perhaps more fire-like, without all the line breaks. I was considering how fire is like water. Also about poetry. I wavered (like flame) from my initial intent of five syllable lines, and enjoyed it when divergence flickered. Mostly I didn't want to post it, it's not "done"/raw/feels somewhat wooden or stiff (ironic, given the content). Remembering Martha Graham, I posted it anyway. Would love to hear what you think of the centering too, a last minute blogpost click shifting it to firelicking centerness. How the technological happenstance shapes creative process... I imagine eventually this will be a poem of 5 or 6 lines? How would that poem read?
ReplyDelete"write or be written" Yes! My poem felt like a draft but posted nonetheless. I like the centeredness on your poem. Funny. I just decided to do my new compilation centered. New self-publish book before end of April.
ReplyDelete