Poems on the topic: fire

Poems on the topic “fire” on Poets.by.

SadDave Bonta

Treatment

I put away my head, friend to this arson— for I am ill— and walk to see how things are in his absence.
DreamyDave Bonta

Husbandry

Water comes to my garden in the finest coat laced with rich lace. And on the night of the fire, all the doors in the street dancing with light… The world is an old wife not seen since the wedding. We turn a country into a cot and not a bed.
AnxiousDave Bonta

Stewardship

Before the mouth, who owned me? We set fire to the marsh and to the swallow, full of false Latin. Our anchor is a salt-cellar. At evening in the harbor, horses run to the sea.
InspiredDave Bonta

Oaks as Teachers

give me shade tolerance so i can worship the sun at a cellular level teach me the dance in abundance the sects of insects how to work like an artist’s model with wind or fire how to mine in place and turn the soil into an accomplice how to communicate with an alien life form in speech acts of pure energy how to grow wound wood
AnxiousDave Bonta

Hollow Folk

without issue i can feel the forest thicken within me build up fuel and hunger for that incendiary spark ah to slash and burn plow and harrow with my ancestors or cut down the old giants and replace them with windmills deadly flowers scything the air for migrants our doom laid out like a meal for ravens fates intertwining like fingers at a lovers’ leap a mile and a half up a mountain hollow under the green banners of the sun
SadDave Bonta

Charm

fire fire burn my brick live like some cut in the body a good drinker-up of every love
AnxiousDave Bonta

Goth

going to burn in the burnyard a dog would save me worse than my last night’s mouth the corn-ordinary world I scorn being infinite as my desire of seeing in and with the night
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Arsonism

fire is my flag if nothing matters there being nothing to follow as much as this necessary rose what hands open with more unparticular generousness
AngryDave Bonta

Flag of Hate

hissing as it burns Fire breaks the hydrocarbon chains in polyester with a thousand fingers at once. We gaze at the flag’s charred outline on the road as if it were a map to some disaster area: a nuclear test site, a strip mine, the tar sands of Alberta. fake stars learning what it means to shine
AnxiousDave Bonta

Blood tree

sprung fully formed like a god from the lung will you rot back into a travesty of spring what birds would roost in the untuning forks of your limbs and what would they sing like a real tree do you yearn to be free of oxygen bronchial to a fault would you burn
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Leaf Letter [screenplay]

Dear ground, thank you for always being there for us. In my dreams, sometimes you aren’t and I go on falling until I wake. Thank you for letting us sleep. Thank you for your enormous reserves of darkness, which we have been burning to keep the darkness at bay, ashes to ashes. Thank you for letting us all fall
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Burning the tissues

In a snow-bound ring of stones, I am burning all the tissues from my recent cold. The sun beats down. Fallen twigs and leaves are melting themselves into form-fitting graves. A flat wing of ash floats up and hangs in the air like a famous last word.

Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem

Or try: