ablaz poetry

He was never good with words

And she hated small talk any way

So they drove in comfortable silence

Along that road that day

Wind blowing through her hair

And laughter all the way

Down that beautiful coastline they went

And to their favorite place

It’s one they knew well

Their secret getaway

They walked hand in hand

Through the ocean waters

Just happy to be together

With desire in their eyes

He wanted to tell her how he felt

But his words always got jumbled up

So he pulled her in for a kiss

Hoping that was good enough

She understood what he couldn’t get out

And led him to a little cove not too far away

They both knew what they wanted

And didn’t hesitate to toss their clothes off

And out of the way

They made love in the sand

By the edge of the bay

Lips locked, never parted

Hearts and souls ablaze

-Tiffany K

The first time we met, you looked at me like I was a crippling revolution – barely surviving – but I moved you.

The last time you saw me, you looked at me like a rebellious revolution – wildly set ablaze – but all you did was watch.

—  Zienab Hamdan - The evolution of our revolution
oh prometheus,
lover of life,
take your gift back.
yesterday i glimpsed a city in flames
of man’s own wretched making,
screams piercing the black haze
and splitting my soul.
oh prometheus,
giver of fire,
take it back, i beg–
i fear the bloodlust of burning
is too great for our kind
and i do not wish to see
this world set ablaze.
—  Amrita C.
There’s a fire in my throat. I’m choking on all the words I need to say to you but I can’t. I’m burning in a hell of my own making, and I welcome the comfort of the flames.
Anything for a little company, just to feel like I could be saved.
But there is no salvation in scorched skin. There is no redemption in the rage.
—  giraffevader - Sometimes I set myself ablaze
Return | Surrender

I’ve looked down this road far
too long. I have gone without

gazing upon the lonely wind
cavorting with young leaves|
on limbs which envy fingers,

the gift of choosing to let go.
Too long, I’ve gone without

slogging through swampland,
letting insects know my body
the way only a lover should.

I am willfully holed up here,
in this house amid the forest|

slowly reclaiming its children.
Trees crowd around rooftops
like bullies in the schoolyards,

ready to pounce on moment’s
notice. The quiet of mornings,

time wasted on feral company,
birdsong God designed to cure
blues – residence for 14 years.

I’ve looked down this road far
too long. I have gone without

having known my homeland.
I will move. I will rise. I will
tread new paths over floors|

having never known my feet.
I will set these woods ablaze.