Features for week of August 29, 2011

Barely There by lroof

You don’t make sense, why should i? by DominicSavio

if i
bathe Your
feet
in
tears
will You call me Mary and
remember my
face?
will you embrace me
if I left
my
limbs
in the past?
can
You
stretch out my love
like
elastic to make it
last?
will
You touch me because i dance?
[am i lego
because You always
take me
apart
and put me back
together
again
but You said
this isn’t a coincidence
when
i begged You
“please
no more coincidences
i just need
to
heal”]

You Will Hinder My Growth No More Love… by Christina Rodriguez

Oddly pertinent gibberish by redolentquill

I live hoping,
one day to see-
the world bursting
out, in cackling poetry.
Bizarre dreams !?
Logic pockets
were ever undone at seams…
Still pure, still unsure!
And certainly finding yin!

Horses galloping over clouds
across fields of carrots
and cheeky tomatoes
and splat, I end
gooey-kneed, elbowing
pulpy tomatoes, blowing
steam off my nose-
and yet I’m a rose!
You’ll baptize me ever again-
the golden bud flower grain.

I come noiselessly washing
down every terrain-
water and rain
never slain, never slain!
Alone, the drops close on me
enclose me in a globe, show me
the meaning of chills-cold-within
the forming of pearls-old-akin.

Occupied or deserted,
I am but space!
Time, how do you
manage to coil
infinitely around
me, telling me at
every bend, that
you are new, and
that ‘its’ you!

outcast by strawberries

Coin Tale by Arcadia Tempest

A compliment from a stranger is that unverified hello that contains the unknown.
I saw her today.
I’m the stranger and she’s the other stranger with our feet sweeping the same track most mornings.
The track is our unlikely cement match maker.
She first caught my attention by her presence.
Some people can stand in a way that even from the back you know they brim with a modest self assurance, a tidy kind of confidence.
I love it when I see the picture from a back view.

Her hair intrigues and conjures lovely thoughts.
I’d like to hold a few strands of her hair and let the sun bring out the hidden tints but it’s also not a comfortable aspiration.
My hesitation comes with my usual indignant pause that I’m once again proving I’m not like the others that gather each morning as we wait for that over zealous decibel rated school bell to ring.

This morning my words had formed to speak to her about her beautiful red hair but instead I gulped inwards and my resolve fell under my shoes and I scuttled away.
Then there it was, I looked back right into her face and it hit me ….I realized I didn’t want to know her face.
There was no connection to the front of her, I only wanted to speak my words in my head to the back of her.
I want this relationship to be a one sided coin.
I know I will enjoy our next conversation when she walks ahead of me in that steady language of easy east going west step.
Ohh…I hope she steps into the sunlight for me.

© K S Hardy 2011

Bruise by Glitterfest

regrets by Nathan Emery

the unrest in my heart
to hear your voice
and feel your lips and skin
will not subside.
i miss you,
though it’s been barely a week
but your eyes
and voice still haunt me.
the memories,
are so amazing;
the concrete jungle and the canopy
of glass and brick
stretching so far above us,
but not above our hearts.
i think i love you…
and it terrifies me
because maybe it’s just what you were,
and not what you are,
but it’s love all the same.
how i wish,
to see you tonight,
and every other night after
holding my hand
and holding my heart.
i’d be lying if i said it wasn’t hard
to leave you 500 miles
behind.

Clipped by Matteo Pontonutti

i breathe in Red by Greeneyedlady

i hear her whisper
how old is this tight place
drawn over your heart?
it is as old as Forever, i reply

i feel lightheaded
the air is hot now and heavy
with a moisture that will not fall
still crystalline tears
scratch their way down my face
waves of arid cries that once could die
in my throat
threatening, threatening

my body burns and tingles
it’s energy glowing Red
weaving around my edges
it pounds across my head
and breaks away
i breathe in Red
i push angry fire out
at least that little bit escapes
i hear the rest of it clamoring
waiting enviously to follow

Angry Monsters by Barbara Zuzevich

remember that, always. by Alondra Blick

Your eyes open slowly
and once again
I am on a long road
watching the dawn
ache across that pale
sky.
We are quiet
enough
to hear the sparrows
rise miles off
in the distance
and the lightness
is unbearable.
It is the small things
that will return
to you.
Remember that
always.
The smell of thunder
when you lifted your hand
past me
to light a cigarette.
The perfect sorrow
of sadness and smoke.
As we drive,
the sun beats from
behind the blur of
the trees
and the skyline
and I think,
what a strange beauty
it is
that from the moment
we met
the world has seemed to
rush by
with no form.
Just a wash of colours
and changing light
through your open
car window.

The Hunting of Creativity (poem)

Whenever our muse decides to drop by, we must entertain her and grasp her attention. This poem by Guy Hoffman (aka creative365) tackles this moment. The author states: “The creative spark is elusive and once I have it I am reluctant to let it go”.

 

I won’t let it escape
I watch it, staying quiet
Keeping my eyes fixated
I sink low to stay undetected
Stalking it as it moves
Prowling under the moonlight
Hiding in the shadows
I position myself
To prevent it’s escape
The air thick with inspiration
Eyes forward, ready to pounce
Shifting as I prepare
I leap for it
Surprised by my attack
It darts for open ground
It’s imaginative and magical
In it’s attempt to escape me
Just as it always is
Extending my claws
I swipe once, twice
Damn it, I missed it again
I bolt after it
My heart pounding
I catch up quickly
Its dodging moves
Difficult to follow
I take a leap of faith
Sink my claws into it
And drag it to the ground
My grip so tight
It’s difficult for me to hold on
As is bucks and squirms
Just before I grasp its throat
I remember I don’t want to kill it
Oh I would never want to do that
It twitches and fights
Slowly it concedes
For a moment we are one
I can hear its heart beating
Each thump resonating through me
I can feel its pulse, its warmth
I move close to take in its scent
My flared nostrils fill with
The smell of innovation
All my senses awakened now
I lick my lips to ready my self
My mouth waters with anticipation
I lean in and drink from its wounds
The sweet blood of originality
I know I can never get my fill
Realizing satisfaction can never be had
And grateful for what it has given me
I release it reluctantly
With hopes of catching it again tomorrow

Art & Text Challenge

The Challenge
A great piece of art paired with an inspirational thought can make a lasting impact. Please enter your best work that combines art with words.

Winner

he loves me not by TamLock

he loves me not by tamlocke

accompanying poem:

He loves me
He loves me not
A love once shared
Now long forgot

The petals fall
All becomes clear
You don’t love me
You’re not here

Cast aside
Lost in the gloom
I must await
New love to bloom

He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me…
Not

TBF welcomes MsDebbie

Touched By Fire’s Latest Blogger!

I’m so excited to see Touched By Fire growing exponentially. In order to keep up the pace I’m excited to announce we have another blogger joining us. MsDebbie, as she is known on the bubble, has been a member of RedBubble for nearly a year and has made herself quite cozy. She’s a highly motivated and emotive writer who shares her inspirations with everyone that she comes across. My first impressions of Deb were her sincerely supportive and sweet comments that she would leave for others writings. She always leaves an artist feeling worthy, like what they shared was truly valued.

Deb is definitely a woman on the prowl for inspiration in everything around her. She is a lover of poetry, music, art, books, thinking, challenges, conversations, and so much more. She will be sharing with us commentary on poetry, art, motivational thoughts, and whatever else floats through her dreamy beautiful mind.

And to use a quote that she uses “The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware” – Henry Miller. So here’s to having our joyous, aware, and divine Debbie join us – welcome Deb, we already love you!

p.s. don’t forget to check out her bubble page to see her art, writings, and journal ramblings!