Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “fire”

17 Aug 2015

After the Fire

After the fire there were pools
of aluminum, puddles and runnels
of molten metal had hardened
where they ran.
Like all who follow the path of least resistance,
they got nowhere.
They became featureless blobs,
most looking like lower intestines
or scat from some
diarrheic metal animal.
Just more things to trip over.

But then I found one,
an ingot, a delicate pendant,
a diamond in the rough.
a small cabochon, slightly askew,
but with twin aspen trees growing
from the top.
Slender, leafy, powdery gray.
So I took it home,
contemplated its essence,
pondered on its trials,
and gave it some respect.
The way we should treat all those
who have dealt with the fire
and come out transformed.
Something beautiful.

#34

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning #2, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
28 Mar 2013
1 Comment

Phoenix Without Fire

I will shed my skin
wiggle, slip, kick, and it’s gone
as I slide away.

I will dream it first,
deathless reincarnation,
not me, but still me.

I will rise from ash,
stretch newly fledged wings, and fly.
Phoenix without fire.

Posted in Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
22 Sep 2012

Beginnings and Endings

Every beginning holds within it
shadows of an ending.
Pine cones foreshadow firewood.

Every ending holds within it
seeds of new beginnings.
After fire the fireweed blooms.

Live in the middle as much as possible
Climb a pine tree, pick the fire weed,
let beginnings and endings fend for themselves.

 

#273

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
30 Aug 2012
2 Comments

Some Old Sayings Are Just Wrong

Good intentions don’t pave roads
going to Hell or anywhere else.
they just hang in the air for a moment,
like smoke, then they’re gone.

Where there’s smoke there isn’t
necessarily any fire.
Smoke can linger a long time
after the fire’s dead and cold.

Sometimes burning bridges
keeps you moving forward
instead of running back to
what is already over.

And quite often it’s over
before anyone sings.
Fat, thin, or otherwise;
no matter what their intentions.

 

#250

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , ,
03 Apr 2012
2 Comments

A Pretty Darn Good Life

Find some land and some wood, build a house.
Use your heart and your brain, find a spouse.
Work when it’s light,
Sleep when it’s night,
When the weather is bad don’t go out.

Find a spade and some seeds, plant a garden.
Add a cow and some hens to the yard and
grow them some food,
they’ll do the same for you.
Get a sensible dog who will guard them.

Find the deadfalls and snags, cut wood
that will fit in your stove and burn good.
dowse a well for your water.
Raise sons and daughters.
build a cellar to hold all your food

There are other things that would be nice,
like a black and white cat to catch mice,
songs you can hum,
guitars to strum,
and books you would read more than twice.

That’s a pretty darn good life.

 

#101

Posted in Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
18 Jan 2012
4 Comments

In a Cave by a Fire

I can’t really distinguish
Between twenty five below
And minus thirty three.
At some point it just feels
Cold and I wonder
If there really is a difference.
Before numbers were invented
was there just cold, colder, damn cold,
and ‘stay in the cave by the fire, Stupid.’
 
But I don’t have a fire anymore.
Just a looping video of a fire that
I can play on the fifty inch screen.
No hauling wood or ashes but no
actual heat either.
So what if the power goes out one day
and never comes back on?
Back to the cave by the fire, Stupid!

 

#25

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , ,
21 Apr 2011
3 Comments

Why Do We Watch?

Yesterday Wildcat Video and the Dawson Creek Diner were consumed by a fire. Today the photos and videos are rampant. I could easily put a link to any one of several youtube videos showing the fire. I’ve looked at a couple but the only question that keeps prodding me is ‘Why do we watch?’
Many years ago I watched my home burn to the ground as I stood and watched. The second time I lost my home to fire I wasn’t there, couldn’t watch, and sometimes I think it was better that way.
Why do we watch? Is it the awe at the terrifying power of the flames, is it some strange form of thrill seeking? Obviously those in charge of putting the fire out or keeping their nearby homes or businesses safe have a bona fide reason to keep an eye on a fire. But why do people with no vested interest watch? What do we expect to see? I guess we’ve been watching fires for millennia and the fascination may be a part of our psyche, our human make up.
Why do we watch? I just don’t know. I only know that after you lose a home or your business to fire nothing is ever the same again. You may rebuild, you may even stop thinking of it as it recedes into ancient history in your life, but just catch a glimpse of that black smoke on the horizon and you feel that twist in your gut. You know that smoke. You know that someone will feel the way you felt that day. I am so sorry for the loss to our local business owners and I hope they can put this behind them and start anew. I will be there as soon as the door opens, returning my rented videos.

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