Iron Poet #22

ashesheart

Haiku Humpday

Meter / Style: Haiku

Theme / Keyword: Ashes


Loss ~ Sean Bracken

Over the ashes of a now ruined city
The moon looked down with no pity
At the loss of all mankind’s humanity

Nerisha Kemraj

Fire burning light
Golden Leaves all crunch beneath
Ashes, on feet

Matt Henderson

incense–sweet smoke rise
midnight on we burn and glow
dawn, it’s sleep…and ash

D Lee Cox

ashes to ashes
its how we all did fall down
ignoring the keep

Maureen Lauter

Life burnt passionately, now
White powder crumbling
Only memories of heat.


Iron Poet #19

firepen

Iron Poet #19

Theme: Limerence
Style: Freestyle

Limit 36 lines


“Yummy” ~ D Lee Cox

I smell you
I feel you
I see you
I hear you

but I’ve not tasted you

Yet

“Straight Jacket” ~ Violet Teagan

you hang in the back,
beside a feathered dress,
grazing my pink suede boots

threadbare and warm,

irresistibly gruff

stolen, fair and square

I inhale the perfume of burning pine

and cold November nights,

brush your frayed edges

along my lips
just to feel you shiver

then press against your metal zipper
’til teeth marks pierce my thigh,

imagining what it’d be like,

undoing you,

thread by silky thread

but tonight, I will only slip my hands

into your dark and lovely pockets,

filled with song

and razor wire,

a half-smoked pack of Marlboros

and folded pieces of notebook paper,

scrawled with a story I’ll never read,
because I already know how it ends

“Mine” ~ Nerisha Kemraj

So desirable she is,
Her beauty knows no bounds,
If only she could see me
She’s mine, she just does not know it yet

I love the way she walks,
Down the runway,
And the way her body sways…
In a rhythmic flow
The way her lips curl in anger

If only I could tell her about the way I feel,
Perhaps I’d hear that she too feels the same…
It’s second fiddle now, I know this game.
Those quick glances she throws my way
While I sit at my desk near the window

Like the sunkissed flower with morning dew
She beautifies all in her wake
Naturally
I see her inviting looks when she hands me the files
I reach for it, hands meeting
Lingering
As she peers into something on the desk, feigning interest

We’re going out for coffee later
It doesn’t matter that the rest of them will be there
I know it was just her shyness,
An excuse
She likes me.
She’s mine,
She just does not know it yet…

“That woman!” ~ Joshua Flores

That woman!

To me she is a
wondrous
murderous
thunderous
ponderous
slanderous
adulterous
ravenous
adventurous
famous
fabulous
miraculous
joyous
tremendous
Woman!

That woman!
She makes me
ambitious
amorous
incredulous
ridiculous
generous
hazardous
dangerous
mischievous
nervous
acrimonious
ambiguous
barbarous
jealous.

That Woman!
To her I am
Anonymous
and
Contemptuous

“My Aelia, Across Candora” ~ By Michael Cottle

It is your face I see,

In the vast distance,
And it drives me,
Closer to you,
800 miles or more.
You are my hope.
My will to live.
It is your face I see,
When my eyes close,
And I feel your every curve,
When I reach out in dreams.
In my lonely visions,
You don’t know,
That you are my light.
In 800 miles or more,
What I feel and see,
Will I tell you then?
I don’t know.
I don’t know if I can.
If you leave me forsaken,
I don’t know if I can.

“Flames” ~Sean Bracken

The fire that used to warm me
Is now the flame that kills me
I need the light, I feel the heat
It’s burning bright around my feet
The flame is all around me
Consuming passions in me
Her warm embrace that licks my face
Has taken me and left no trace
Of the man that was, and is, and will be
The flame that came to heat me
Has now begun to kill me
I cannot live within her fire
I have no was
I have no is
I have no future, maybe


Iron Poet #17

beegirlIron Poet #17

Theme: A stinging insect to its victim
Meter: Free verse

No more than 36 lines!


Philosophy Embraced – J. Jack Sweitzer

With pride,
I withdraw.

The barb that defines my being
still wet, dripping with poison.

My existence brings death.


On Being a Bee – Wes Choc

Wasn’t my idea … I’m just a bee
Thinkin’ fast’n’furious, and y’can easily see
I’m up-front, goal-oriented, camo’d, set to be …
Purposeful … yet, pointedly prepared to be … me!

Y’see, m’mission is high’n noble …never exploitation
Seasonally crafted … habitual … a revered consecration
Capturing prizes, my trophy? … fervid insemination
Spreading the Word zealously … it’s called “Holy pollination!”

Because of these avid vigors … and my unwav’ring drive
Tempting blossoms seduce me … so that animals survive
But no, I’m no lawbreaker … even humans can thrive
Cuz it is I who does the magic for keeping plants alive.

Yet, here am I … suff’ring close calls and missed swats
Losing my focus, my draw, … even those comft’ble yellow dots
So when you choose to stop this reverent calling … these hallowed plots …
…explains why stinging you is my only option … thus my inescapable thoughts.


Long Live the Queen! – Melinda Tauler

When the girl arrived, we could hear her tromping along as we went about our daily tasks.
I could see her from my post, the sun glinting on her hair as it hung in auburn curls.
She smelled of fruit and I became tempted to forego my visit to collect nectar from the wildflowers.
If nothing else, a bee is obedient until the end.
However, when a young and curious child visited the hive yesterday, all that changed.
I flew out like I did every day, ready to gather my quota until I couldn’t fight the allure any longer.  I had to investigate.
As I began to change my direction, I noticed that she also changed her behavior.  She was pointing in the air, ready to inspect the hive up close.
POKE!  Her finger entered the hive and honey began to drip out.  POKE!  POKE!  Her jabs invaded our precious home again and again.
I zoomed toward her in sudden anger, unable to think of anything other than the desperate need to protect our queen.
“Stop!” I cried.  I screamed with a rage I could not express.  She just continued on.
As I met with the offending finger, I could not pierce through the layers of stickiness fast enough.  I tried in vain as she swatted me away.
“Get away, you stupid bee!” the girl screeched at me.
I hurled myself northward and stung with all my might.  I gave myself up for my queen, which is all any of us aspires to, really.
As I turned from the welt that I inflicted as it started to rise, I saw them.
The swarm surged from the chamber and launched an attack on the intruder.
My death has been avenged and my queen is now safe.
Long live the queen!


the phenomenon of size – D. Lee Cox

i am not bound by law
i am not bound by duty
i am not bound by conscript
i am bound by beauty

the beauty of Nature
the beauty of prevailure
the beauty of Instinct
and the beauty of failure

Nature is not singular
Nature is many
large v. small
one v. any

i die but i’ve won
i dont understand your cries
You live but You’ve lost
the phenomenon of size