It’s not about bad hair but bad air. I breathe fire you breathe rain.
Dousing water on my dreams sending my hopes into steam!
What was white hot like hope now lies in a puddle at my feet.
You stand at the mirror reflecting on your deeds.
You’ve done good, got away with murder, so you think.
But little did you know my thoughts were of you!
I included you in my plans.
Happy not nappy, you pressed your hair,
I dared to dream.
I dreamed a world where I mattered, we all mattered,
where bad deeds weren’t justified at the mirror.
I breathe fire let’s breathe fire together.
Let’s flow like lava igniting everything we touch,
creating islands resting in the new thing we created.
It's not the hair it’s the dare! Dare to dream, dare to be different!
Dare to be fire-breathing. Breathing life, fearlessly fabulous,
Intentional in our intent.
Fire-breathing, no rain, no tears no dousing flames of hope,
Straining to see through steam distorting the scene.
Now standing before the mirror boldly!
Declaring my wrongs, my rights to hope and breathe,
Because I am fire, white hot liquid fire...
...watch me flow!
Photo credit: Boris Rager for Pixabay
About the Creator
Cynthia Fields
I adore words and I love what happens when we grab them, sleep with them, holler and scream and laugh at them! I love what happens when we throw them in the air and watch them fall magically from our minds onto paper!
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Reader insights
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Top insight
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Masquerade Party
At six feet seven inches tall and approximately two hundred fifty pounds, Samael presented an imposing figure when he walked into a room. His physical stature may be impressive, but his demeanor is the opposite. The shy, some might say, reclusive personality that he developed as a young boy followed him into manhood. His favorite job was crunching numbers in a quiet one man back office of a fiduciary firm. He was always polite, greeting his fellow workers with a “good morning” or “good afternoon” as he walked to the back of the office where his little hideaway was located, but never tried to engage in conversations.
By Mark Gagnon2 days ago in Horror
Comments (13)
Hallelujah! I subscribed after discovering you through so and so! How have I missed all of your impressive soulful pieces? I have much reading to do. Bare with me and I will catch up.
Congrats on your Top Story!
Beautiful poetry. The imagery is astounding! Congratulations on Top Story!
Love this, flows beautifully, and the image is great as well 😁
Great elements to use for a poem and I think your bio rocks! Kudos on the top story!
I love the use of steam here.
Fantastic poem. Flows really well and easy to read. Keep it up~ :)
I read every word of this with the intensity that you so wonderfully captured. Congrats on the top story!
This is fantastic!! Love the passion and wordplay, an all-around excellent Top Story :)
I really like the energy of the words in your poem. Congratulations!
congratulations on TS. This is GREAT. not a fire that can easily be extinguished but something moving that difficult to stop. LOVE it.
Congratulations on your top story.
"Let’s flow like lava igniting everything we touch" very powerful poem, Cynthia. Nicely done.