Quotes about searing, page 9
Madhouse Times
Cheap thrills
A mass grave of cigarette butts
And a rancor reaction
In the phantoms of the smoke
Wafting in all corners
Of the vexed body
A little life,
A little death,
Give and take;
This desperate
Singeing ecstasy
From the roaring alcohol
And from drinking
And puking
The squalid jargon
Of florid idiotic tongues
Inebriation tolls
And I've grown balls
I am this flimsy
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poem by Norman Santos
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Alone, With You
it's not that I'm
afraid
of losing you
there is no reason to explain
unless you're crying,
and I'm alone
still
wouldn't matter
my truth is muted,
deleted from your songs
your sightlines are not shrinking
you just don't see me
unless
it serves you
being alone does not crowd my
thinking
its
being
alone with you
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poem by TP Sage
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Hex
Sleepless nights will soon emerge to be your blight,
As by right you relive your wrongs with contrite,
And I promise you this you cannot resist,
As fate begins to play out its unseen twist,
Those unfortunate to have died by your hand,
Whisper to you from beyond this mortal land,
They are soothed as your days left on earth run thin,
And unrelenting desperation sets in,
Comeuppance for your mortal sins is certain,
What at first starts out as bearable and tame,
Will rapidly grow into a searing pain,
Sores will emerge and grow to tarnish your skin,
The pain of which will mirror what's felt within,
Slowly your sight will fade until you are blind,
Only to be replaced by visions unkind,
This is a battle that you cannot ever win,
Death will arrive once you are withered and thin,
Comeuppance for your mortal sins is certain.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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Eyes & Voices
I
The two eyes emanate rays,
Thought a Greek philosopher,
Who also smelled the Minotaur,
Stinking as he watched an outdoor play.
While the Chorus chanted
And the audience cringed,
Oedipus put out his eyes. singed,
As the meaning was being ranted.
'Mother, may I? ' the theme evolved,
To suggest a thing or two,
Such as the motherly master glue,
And symphonically the cringe devolved.
II
In the desert, my protagonist focused,
The searing heat boiling his head,
Until of dehydration he was dead,
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poem by Stan Petrovich
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I Dreamt I Was In Africa
I dreamt I was in Africa neath Serengeti sky
I heard the wild dogs barking, the spotted hyenas cry,
I heard the male lion roaring his anger pierced the night,
I dreamt I was in Africa neath African moonlight.
The elephants were trumpeting on Serengeti plain,
The sun dried grass all eaten the parched earth cried for rain,
The wildebeest and zebra had wandered far away
And Serengeti silent in the searing heat of day.
I dreamt I was in Africa the drought was at an end
The thunder and the lightning And rain came with the wind,
The ponds and rivers flooded, the once parched plains now green
And widebeest and zebra in thousands to be seen.
The moon shines in the heavens and the hunting jackals bark
In Tanzania in East Africa in Serengeti National Park
The grazing hippos grunting and the wild hyenas scream
And I was in East Africa if only in a dream.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Smoker
I billowed calmly as a cloud
Upon a course for acid rain,
When in the fog of smoking crowd,
My lungs collapsed in searing pain.
Full of soot and black with tar,
I coughed in vain for chest to clear;
At least my lungs had got this far
Despite my years of toxic air.
But Smokers' Lounge was home to me,
Where fellow addicts puff with joy:
Our pipes in hand, all friends are we,
‘Let's fine cigars now share, my boy! '
‘So gasp away! ' my motto cries,
‘And light another cigarette
Before a further smoker dies,
Which happens often - you can bet! '
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Averting a Searing Phalanx
The sun gouged my adamantine
Slivers pocketed in the seams
And the vacuous horizon stripped
A trident of dour and putrid lie
Now, inexorable from a conceited defeat
I wore a moue of malady underneath
Subdued by mediocre tragedies:
A harlequin married to tyranny
Divorced from subtlety,
A maudlin to a flagrant guise
But deemed rather empty
In this highway of turbulent mesh
Of reveries and sequenced episodes
I saunter juxtaposed perilous codes
In the sinewy sans of raging coupés
Exuding a stymied complacence
Whilst feigning a lustful sedation
But in the protracted road
Where no eyes dare roll
Slithering into seclusion
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poem by Norman Santos
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Arsonist
His voice -a hissing warmth in the atmosphere
A violent warmth searing with a covert scheme
His eyes -thick and black like oil, combustible
Piercing with stern vigilance, probing with scrutiny
Slithering the night with a slanderous ploy
Engage ignition, friction, spark! Spark!
Pyromaniac birth of fire. Fire! Fire!
His eyes smoldered a greater flame
The repulsed intensity is unfathomable.
Lashing out on a burning rampage,
His hormones swelter and burst.
He watched the fire devour the vacant night
The towering flames looming over
Gleaming embers suspended in the air
A siren of emergency, wails of pain
Slyly in profound surreptitious voyeurism
He watched, absorbed by the remedy
The scorching beauty, the power
His impotence, his itch for aggression
Helios dragging his chariot in the night sky
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poem by Norman Santos
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The Insanity of the Sane....for my sister
Lost in her own domain
Where insanity flies on the wings of fly's
Where putrid pain loiters pon the thread of dread
Screaming for release
'PLEASE! ' she howls sobbing
Distraught
Again and again
Ignored whilst pounding the solid white door
Where this mighty little sprite
Rigid in one thought
To just walk
Yes walk to feed her lonesome cat
She cannot forget that
He maybe starving
(she does not see the reality)
But she feels the searing pain
The agony
The blood which slips from
Within her sock
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poem by Karen Sinclair
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Maze
I would do anything for an honest song
Without the noise and fractal moments to chain me
I would spiral in motes that reach every truth's edge
Weave around the lurking lies drowning all tenderness
I am paused, in my life around beauty that cant breathe
From searing minds, a million cracks on every one of my nights
I walk a bit further away each time, shrugging off minds
Not knowing if this life can hold on to me any longer
I see fabrics of every thought, entwined in gossamer hopes
Swinging in winds of eternal changes; wishes on rapids
Too hard to resist, the churn all too familiar and too painful
Storm-dancing into some reality's sodden pages
Damp, like faces whose tears never wore their sorrow
I clench and unclench in knots of every ancient lore
Turn to me Truth, look at me; I am your goddess
Your future ahead, the move that you wouldn't dare as yet
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poem by Bindu Vijayan
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