In Fire

Hopefully restored closely to its predecessor.

 

Shall we start a fire all along

Your equator or you meridian,

Using your fingers as wooden logs
And my lips of sparking flints?

 

As our eyes haze over

With the hiss of panting,

Will we catch the scent

Of our skin blooming in fire?

 

And what will we say

In the moment?  Our

Tongues would crackle

Like Egyptian parchment.

 

While the eyelash singes

And the tongue sizzles

Like a wet thumb against

A hot iron, and the breath

Escapes our chest,

 

Will we remember
That we hold no links
To perpetual Phoenixes?

 

In the midst of our collapse,

Will we look to the ceiling

Or will we fall from the bed

Scattering away from each other?

 

And as the flames quiet down

Just like a phantom fire

Dying in the middle

Of the forest, we will lie tranquil,

 

Only hoping
That in the silence
Of our ashen stillness,
We can learn to speak
With tongues
Of rising smoke.

Reviews

....Wow. This is...wild. Passionate and alluring. I'm trying to avoid saying sexy for some reason, but that's exactly what it is. It addresses sex and passion from beginning to end, and yet it teeters just on the proper side of the 'lude' limit.

I think I wanna share this. Great work, man.

[Nicola Taylor]

This has the most astounding imagery. I personally adore this stanza:

"Will we remember
That we hold no links
To perpetual Phoenixes?"

[Brad]

snap! your use of metaphors is well done, that's a talent that takes a lot of playing around with. it's like second skin to you. bravo!

[Angelheaded Hipster]

Oh I like this...I like this a lot!! I have someone...and this is exactly what it is like...I could never describe it like this...I dont think I have ever read you before, and I thought this would be a good start...and I am impressed. Very.

[Alessander]

Did you lose the original in the big crash? U must've posted this up when I went on my 2 year hiatus lol

Anyhow - this is awesome! Ur a stickler for imagery, and so am I, and u give some good ones here:

wet thumb against a hot iron

Like Egyptian parchment

tongues of rising smoke

those were prob my fav. The content is a pyros dream! lol The metaphor of fire is really hammered thru - almost TOO much...I guess that would be my only suggestion. OF course, if u introduced another metaphor, than I would accuse you of mixing metaphors lol 5th stanza, only 3 lines...dunno, it just sticks out to my sense of symmettry, tho nothing is "wrong" with it, oper se. Very good poem. 5 views and 12 reviews...this work is really magic! lol

[Patrica Alvarez]

this is so romantic, and it really makes me think. You are a very gifted writer. have you thoght about writing a book or something?

[shel]

I really like this!

Is it the allusion to Babel that you are questioning, or the wording of the two lines there? I think these are the only 2 lines that tripped me up. (rhythmically) Or maybe I was just zeroing in on them because you said you are wondering if the reference should stay in the piece! I'd keep Babel in, definitely, with the 'parchment tongues' and 'learning to speak'. Maybe you could just say 'after the fall of Babel' or something similar to keep the flow?

Using your fingers as wooden logs
And my lips of sparking flints

Of our skin blooming in fire

We can learn to speak
With tongues
Of rising smoke

I love your imagery! The whole thing is very seductive. I'm not sure if you intended for the Babel ref. to be spiritual or not. I didn't read it that way, but more of an intense and devastating physical union between these two people. By the end, they are smoldering ruins. But in a good way. :) Spiritual in its depth & significance, but not necessarily linked to religion?

And I loved this stanza:

Remembering always
That we hold no links
To perpetual Phoenixes

This was beautiful, Isaac!

[Cari Lynn Vaughn]

Intelligent and thoughtful. Wonderfully worded and full of beautiful images. Fantastic!

[Rebirth And Introspecti..]

I hate you because you're so good, and yet I can't stop reading your pieces, and I come back to them over and over and over again.... Another piece to go stored in my favorites, beautiful

[Juliet]

I am once again inspired by your imagery. I don't quite understand the piece, but it somehow reminds me of a poem by Stephen Crane written in the 1800's called The Heart:

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting on the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

---Stephen Crane (1871-1900)

You have the makings of an immortal, my dear. Keep up the good work :)