DOUSE THE FIRE

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DOUSE THE FIRE

It simmers and brews.

It comes to a quick boil.

Hot steam escapes the cracks.

A whistle fills the moist air.

A fire too late to be extinguished.

A flame too unwilling to be leashed.

An explosion rips through the surface.

Heated words spew forth.

Sweet nothings won’t curb the flames.

Apologies too late in coming.

Anger has reared its head.

Water won’t douse the fire.

WHAT IF

sun exploding

WHAT IF

What if the sun exploded?

The day began as all others.
The sun rose and shined its light.
As the day wore on, the sun grew hotter.
Steamier.
It radiated shades of red and orange.
Heat slew off its sides.
Until it exploded.
Hot balls of fire crashed to earth.
Darkness soon fell across the globe.

The moon hid its face.
It wasn’t ready to rule.
Who would save the earth,
Warm the earth,
And provide the needed sunshine?
The moon stepped forward.
It puffed up its face,
Then it blew out hot steam.

“You’re hired,” mankind shouted.
The moon replaced the sun.
Twenty four hours a day.
No time off.
No rest for the weary moon.
But a lot of grumbling.

So we ask: What if the sun exploded?
We would be in trouble.
Stuck with the moon for sunshine.
Sun, we bow to you in gratitude
For all that you do for us.

THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE FALLS

 

brooklyn

The river flows black.
The sky lights up.
Red, orange, and yellow bursts.
Then I hear the explosion.
Loud and deafening. 
My ears ring.
The bridge is in flames.
The beautiful Brooklyn Bridge.
Pieces of metal land in the water.
Cries fill the cold air. 
I’m lost in the frightened crowd.
Someone takes my hand.
I’m pulled to a building.
The door is locked and bolted.
I follow him from building to building.
Until we find an unlocked door.
Sounds of sirens follow us inside.
The door slams shut behind us.
Lines of cars face us.
I look up to see his face.
He turns away.
He leads me down a ramp.
I dig in my heels.
I must see his face.
He turns to me…
I wake up.
I still wonder…about his face.

 

 

 

THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE FALLS

The river flows black in the night.
People jostle me to stand by the railing.
I first see the colors.
Hot glows of red, orange, yellow.
Then I hear the explosion.
Loud and deafening. 
My ears begin to ring.
The bridge is in flames.
The beautiful Brooklyn Bridge.
Pieces of metal land in the water.
Cries fill the cold air.
How did I get here?
The crowd pushes away from the bleak scene.
I’m lost in the midst of the throng.
It moves like one.
With one mind and purpose.
To seek shelter from the raining pieces.
Once we reach the buildings,
The crowd spreads out like ants.
Someone takes my hand and pulls me.
We check out the first building.
The metal door is locked and bolted.
So is each door we check.
Finally, we find an open door.
Sounds of sirens follow us inside.
The door shuts behind us.
We seem to be in a parking lot.
Who am I with?
I look up and can’t see his face.
He grunts and pulls me down the ramp.
I dig in my feet.
I refuse to follow him.
I must see his face.
He turns to me…
I wake up.
It was a terrible dream.
But I still wonder
What his face looked like.

DID I DO THAT?

DID I DO THAT?

An ordinary day.
When I went out to play.
Into the cold snow I went.
And I refuse to repent.

It was so quiet.
Before the riot.
A lot of screaming.
With people teaming.

I will leave now.
And take my bow.
Before I am seen.
I’m leaving the scene.