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4 alarm fire
A woman screamed
Silently fire trucks flashed red
Police cars strobed blue
Our lights went out
We felt fire's heat
Fire under Wolf Moon
- Thread starter Ganesha
- Start date
4 alarm fire
A woman screamed
Silently fire trucks flashed red
Police cars strobed blue
Our lights went out
We felt fire's heat
Wolf moon sucks it out of you,
one hollow breath at a time.
You know you are melting
when the fire in your lungs
screams for oxygen,
writhes inside
in a dance macabre...
waiting for its chance
to paint the night
with the smoke
that hides the shaded moon.
one hollow breath at a time.
You know you are melting
when the fire in your lungs
screams for oxygen,
writhes inside
in a dance macabre...
waiting for its chance
to paint the night
with the smoke
that hides the shaded moon.
Up In Smoke
Looking closely at the photo, I see a shadowy fireman at the top of the ladder (enveloped in smoke), pointing his hose into the dark, round, right-eye socket of a huge skull that is looking at him. Skull is formed on it's right (viewer's left) of white smoke, left-eye socket in the darker gray smoke, mouth open in a macabre laugh, chin touching the rooftop to viewer's left of the bright orange flame. Creepy! That's what prompted this poem. (Do you see it too, or did I forget my meds today?)
UP IN SMOKE
tiny figures slip and scurry
in the crisp and crackling air,
pulling on claustrophobic masks
fogged with respiration
to disguise themselves
from the reaper;
dragging hoses up precarious ladders
for ineffective effusions as
the death's head,
formed of smoke and billows,
laughs in their faces --
taking the souls he came to steal
and trying for more
Looking closely at the photo, I see a shadowy fireman at the top of the ladder (enveloped in smoke), pointing his hose into the dark, round, right-eye socket of a huge skull that is looking at him. Skull is formed on it's right (viewer's left) of white smoke, left-eye socket in the darker gray smoke, mouth open in a macabre laugh, chin touching the rooftop to viewer's left of the bright orange flame. Creepy! That's what prompted this poem. (Do you see it too, or did I forget my meds today?)
UP IN SMOKE
tiny figures slip and scurry
in the crisp and crackling air,
pulling on claustrophobic masks
fogged with respiration
to disguise themselves
from the reaper;
dragging hoses up precarious ladders
for ineffective effusions as
the death's head,
formed of smoke and billows,
laughs in their faces --
taking the souls he came to steal
and trying for more
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2006
- Messages
- 2,018
- Reaction score
- 417
- Location
- Vermont
- Website
- robynflatley.blogspot.com
Pupil expanding
to suck my feeble light
into it's orange orb
the demon glowers;
then with narrowed gaze
sends death at me
in a dismissive glance.
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2006
- Messages
- 2,018
- Reaction score
- 417
- Location
- Vermont
- Website
- robynflatley.blogspot.com
Stepping up to an emotional tension, I've stretched myself thin.
The night of the blaze I walked streets filled with slush, a steady stream of water, and ice. The police cars strobed till I thought I might have a seizure. Fire and ice.. wasn't that in the bible? Vapor clouds of cremated cats, lead paint, baseball cards mixed with baby's clothes drifted by. We inhaled memories. Tired firemen decked in heavy suits and oxygen tanks climbed up slippery ladders into pink smoke.
One tiny wrapped cylinder of tobacco.
I rose and my heart shuddered with adrenaline remembering how fire, as barbed cat tongues, licked us clean.
We come in naked and by god we go out the same.
The night of the blaze I walked streets filled with slush, a steady stream of water, and ice. The police cars strobed till I thought I might have a seizure. Fire and ice.. wasn't that in the bible? Vapor clouds of cremated cats, lead paint, baseball cards mixed with baby's clothes drifted by. We inhaled memories. Tired firemen decked in heavy suits and oxygen tanks climbed up slippery ladders into pink smoke.
One tiny wrapped cylinder of tobacco.
I rose and my heart shuddered with adrenaline remembering how fire, as barbed cat tongues, licked us clean.
We come in naked and by god we go out the same.
Last edited:
Beneath the Wolf Moon
the fire competed in brillance.
Flames danced
in ghost circles,
feathers of light
rising skyward.
The weight of the heat
bore down on the pyre,
then the house
heaved one last breath
and sent its great spirit
toward the stars.
the fire competed in brillance.
Flames danced
in ghost circles,
feathers of light
rising skyward.
The weight of the heat
bore down on the pyre,
then the house
heaved one last breath
and sent its great spirit
toward the stars.
Last edited:
Your prose is so very poetic. If I may be so bold...just a little rearranging. Only the words in black are mine. The rest are all yours.
Very moving.
Very moving.