The Fire Within

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Inseparable,
the wind greets plumeria and skin just the same
its currents
piercing through with a roughness that cannot be explained
no don’t touch me,
I ache not for smudges nor tastes
that linger on
your hands are incompatible with the fire within.

There is a sanguine wonder as lavender melts
into grey
beneath the moonlight, yet my mind is a busy street
as silence
is replaced by warning bells
your eyes are thunderstorm when all I require
is calm.

I find that centuries stutter at imprecise units
of measurement,
at mere movement in the shadows,
at longitude
and latitude lines that form a grid on the Earth
tell me
how do you expect me to let you unearth me
with delight.

I am primrose whose color is used to weave dreams from,
the older I become
the more aware I am of what’s forbidden
as though plucking a strawberry in the light of the morning
before it has turned scarlet,
this insatiate dance of your lips is more than I can handle.

April is a landscape shuddering at the thought of stifling
its song
this isn’t something that I am in favour of
I am the afternoon sun, smouldering yellow
and untried
I am not the type to be teasingly opened.

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Word List: Inseparable, smudge, centuries, shadows, primrose, forbidden.

Posted for Poetics @ dVerse Poets pub

And Posted for Get Listed @ Real Toads

Posted on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

64 thoughts on “The Fire Within

  1. Glenn Buttkus says:

    I really dug your first stanza, a poem by itself. The remaining stanzas were good too, using geographic terms to explicate a lovelorn moment. Your poetic soul keeps emerging as romantic; makes me feel less the angry old man, and more the naive youth who wrestled with love in the day.

  2. Merril D Smith says:

    I like the romance of this, and the wordplay here– “I find that centuries stutter at imprecise units
    of measurement,
    at mere movement in the shadows,
    at longitude
    and latitude lines that form a grid on the Earth
    tell me
    how do you expect me to let you unearth me with delight.”

  3. HA says:

    I have to say this, there is some great sass in this verse. Ha!
    Seriously though, it’s so good in how you portray this reluctance/denial to be a part of something that isn’t welcomed or invited. I somehow found a sense of clarity in your measure and thinking, instead of the naivety or tomfoolery of love and passion, which is so refreshing.
    I loved this bit: “I find that centuries stutter at imprecise units/of measurement,
    at mere movement in the shadows,/at longitude/and latitude lines that form a grid on the Earth/tell me/how do you expect me to let you unearth me with delight.”

    • Sanaa says:

      Awwww gosh! ❀️ Thank you so much, Anmol πŸ˜€ so glad you liked it! ❀️

      (and thank you for the lovely prompt) 🌹

  4. S M Connor says:

    April is a landscape shuddering at the thought of stifling
    its song

    I love that line – the whole poem conflates time and place, body and space, capturing the confusion of desire/not-desire.

  5. Kim M. Russell says:

    Each stanza in this poem could stand as a poem on its own, Sanaa, and lose none of its impact. I love how you’ve captured wind and fire in the first stanza and the latent sensuality in the lines:
    β€˜I find that centuries stutter at imprecise units
    of measurement,
    at mere movement in the shadows,
    at longitude
    and latitude lines that form a grid on the Earth
    tell me
    how do you expect me to let you unearth me with delight.’

  6. Kerry says:

    I am primrose whose color is used to weave dreams from,
    the older I become
    the more aware I am of what’s forbidden…

    Such beautiful comparative poetry!

      • gillena says:

        Poems within your poem Sanaa and with each stanza your resonance of “im too old for these mundane games” shines through. Romance i agree (being a romantic at heart, myself) has its highs and lows but yes we do seek something more profound in the end

        Thank you for dropping by my sumie Sunday today

        MuchπŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’›love

  7. Old Egg says:

    For all the dramatic word play there is an underlying sadness in this poem. I am glad you are that primose though to build dreams from. You have a gift Sanaa to make the words you use mean far more that the dictionary tell us. I loved it.

  8. Jim says:

    I like every bit of this one. Mainly I like the battle with the wind and its effects and it is hard to have a favorite. But I do choose the “ sanguine wonder as lavender melts
    into grey
    verse. It tells of the weather’s, I can’t image a man having weather traits, fierce, unforgiving, not given to favorites, etc., problems. Then trying to subdue with latitude and longitude cords got my attention also.
    Nice write, nice selection of prompt words. I enjoy this writing exercise. and reading what the others have come up with. Thank you.
    ..

  9. Rommy says:

    A flower bud might love the thrill felt from sunshine and wind, but they and only they get to decide when the time is right for blooming.

  10. Wendy Bourke says:

    Love it! And once again, I love the way you build your lines to work – so harmoniously – towards a fantastic finish. In that way, I find your writing to be very organic. That, in turn, imbues your pieces with a wonderful authentic quality.

  11. dsnake1 says:

    exquisite, and with a touch of toughness and steel in it.
    “plucking a strawberry in the light of the morning
    before it has turned scarlet”
    : what a memorable image! πŸ™‚

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