I’m traveling and last night the fire department came to visit the hotel in which I was staying. There had been some electrical troubles which knocked out the elevators so I didn’t worry too much when the fire alarms began sounding but when I heard sirens drawing closer I thought it best to evacuate.
So, this week let’s write a poem about fire. There’s both beauty and danger in the flame, perfect for poetry. Post your gift from Prometheus in the comments below.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Living Poetry 
Good plan and glad you are okay. Safe travels!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Lisa Tomey | August 12, 2019, 8:09 AMMine: https://prolificpulse.blog/2019/08/12/fired-up/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Lisa Tomey | August 12, 2019, 8:41 AMJust posted my poem here, https://bartbarker.wordpress.com/2019/08/12/chana-saag-hot/
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 12, 2019, 7:30 PMWhen I was four years old I asked
Grandpa, how do you make a fire?
Well, he said, you need two things to make a fire
Dry wood and a flame
I keenly watched
as he put the wood in the fireplace
stacking it in tidy rows
like a log cabin being built
to be sacrificed in this one act
He then put in paper
between the spaces of the wood structure
Grandpa, you put paper in there…
Is that another element to make a fire?
Element? Where did you learn that word?
Yes, it’s something I use
With my newly minted eyeglasses
seeing the world now clearly
I moved closer to the opening of the fireplace
watching his placement
adding to the stack
He turned back to fireplace
and reached for something else
pinecones… soaked in resin
Are pinecones another element to make a fire?
Do you know what that word means?
I shook my head yes
proudly saying I learned it in school
He stopped, looked at me
wondering what thoughts must be going on inside that little head
a realization that he had forgotten with his own children
that this little guy was
his own person
Yes, he said… Pinecones are an element of making a fire
He brought out his Zippo lighter
and touched the flame to the pinecone
as the cabin burned down
for greater cause
of our Thanksgiving fire.
—–
The flames had finally died down
on my own cabin’s pyre
built in the outdoor chiminea
in my suburban backyard
as the first fairies danced in the embers
I turned to look at my lady
the reflection of the remaining flames
lit her eyes
Her soft hand reached out
as I took it in mine
Her’s cold from the night air
Mine hot from tending the blaze
Two more elements
essential for making a fire
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Chris Clarke | August 14, 2019, 5:09 PMmore “prose-y” than intended…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Chris Clarke | August 14, 2019, 5:10 PMYou can always revise. Maybe signup for the Living Poetry workshop next Thursday.
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 14, 2019, 9:13 PMVery nice. I like the like a log cabin simile and the ending.
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | August 14, 2019, 9:12 PM