Day 142 – The World Loves A Beautiful Arsonist

I was born buried deep in the snow
I was born gripped tightly in chains
I learned to build raging fires
but the sting of the iron remains

The world loves a beautiful arsonist
The world loves a singer of flames
It celebrates those who can set it ablaze but
It notices nothing of chains


Day 130 – Rocks

I know I am filling up my days
with rocks so I can
talk about how I stumble
I know exactly why each stone
is not enough

I sigh each time a pen
finds its way to my hands,
each time I lament out loud, “If only…”
and put it down
for another day
which isn’t coming

I know the fire is dead,
all smothered out
by the pebbles that life has dropped,
or so I have to believe
to keep on believing

I’m smart enough to fool myself,
busy enough to ignore
that there is a current running wild
inside my veins

and it is terrified that I
can’t make a spark

Day 38 – The Treetops Were Listening

The treetops were listening
that night when you promised
you were finally getting out
of Dodge

The day the small crack
in your heart
split open
and you bellowed-
the stars heard then, too

Every long night
when you argued with yourself
down long empty streets
with the windows rolled down,
the cosmos
and everything in it
turned ear
and took note
of the fire in your soul

You stare at blank pages now,
you think it’s lost-
the passion you had,
the importance you felt-
but through every moment
of struggle and doubt

the universe waits for you

Day 14 – Waking Up Early For School

After thirteen years
and four more
there was no escape from school
for me.

I walked right back into that fire.

It has its perks but
I’ll never get used to knowing
I’ll be waking up early for school
for the rest of my life.

At least
there’ll always be
to teach me.

Year 2: Day 1 – I’ll Start A Fire

I’ll start a fire in this little place
to match the one in my head
and keep me warm

and when the yearning pounds me out
I’ll let it loose
and set it far.

I’ll start a fire in this huddled town
to search for similar flames
to keep me warm

and when the ashes yield no fruit
I’ll stoke it on,
I’ll force it out.

I’ll spread the fire, I’ll burn down the world
to find through the smoke
a match like the one
in my head.

I’ll burn through the world
to find the arsonists
with the power to keep us warm

and when we’ve set the world ablaze
I’ll burn
all by myself.


Don’t forget to check out my first anthology, Candy Pizza: Poetry that’s Fun and Healthy, available on Amazon & Kindle.

Day 328 – The Fire Is Going Out

You said to write with fire
but the fire is going out
and will you blame me
when I’ve nothing left to say?

I have learned to walk alone
and I have burned as great a flame
as any mortal’d ever dared
to set loose.

I have given of myself,
my secret treasures to the world,
but I am tired and can no more
find the strength.

You who were my friend could say
that I should carry on,
but what are words coming from
an empty seat?

You who disappeared and took
all kindredness with you,
left me forging on ahead
and wondering why-

why should I continue on,
when I’m the only one?
Why should I not take my dues
and settle down?

How long must I keep at it
while the mentor who believed
has gone away, has found
another song to sing?

While the fire wanes, I hear the voice
which long ago helped it light,
reminding me that I never write
in vain.

And oh, but that were true,
or that you’d blame me in the least,
even notice when at last the fire
goes out.