Fireworks and fire have long been used to describe feelings. We often talk of ‘sparks flying’ between people, someone being ‘hot’.
Many of us experience emotional states as colour - have you ever basked in someone’s golden glow or bathed in their warm pink? Maybe you’ve been dazzled by a person’s intense white or burned by their strong red….
I wrote this first poem some time ago now, to describe the vivid feelings of excitement, joy and nervousness I felt upon falling in love.
The giddiness, dizzy reach for sky…..the rush of rubies sweeping through me…..
If you’ve not experienced it for a while, perhaps it will help you remember the glittering sensations that soar inside - strong yet delicate butterfly soldiers taking you over. The contradiction of the submission. The colours marching…..
The last part of the poem refers to the way other people notice it in you. Love refuses to hide.
Fireworks and fireflies
I try to keep a lid on it....
But my fireworks have other ideas
Wriggling children
They climb mischievously from their box
Moving gingerly at first.....
Until they spot their perfect petrol-navy
And decide it’s their destiny - bees for their cause
To swarm that heaven alone
.
Rockets race, burst and bleed
Scribing gold intent with hot pens
Into latent midnight abyss
Green sorbets of Spring shed dainty mint
Lolloping giddily to emerald cities
Linking orange arms for burning duets
Pulses chat in coded jazz LP sizzle
Cackling over dirty blues cafe trill
.
Red leaps unashamedly
Snaking carnival ribbon
Down West Side Story streets
Sashaying Roman Candles
Stalk alleys my heart’s yet to meet
In search of their Jet-Shark match
Heat is dotted on to gleaming bare shoulders
Fireflies chew cold Autumn fat
Like shiny toffee apples
.
As a panting crowd draw icy breath
They crane necks backwards - eyes agog
Left in no doubt of what is foretold tonight
In luminous dripping moons and foaming stars
This next short piece is, in many ways the opposite of the one before it. It represents the death of love. The type that drags on as lingering illness, pleading to be put out of its misery.
For one person at least.
Must it always end that way?
Maybe it could serve as warning to any new love birthing as fireworks…..
I wrote it more recently to voice the idea of someone grappling with letting go of a dead relationship - knowing the finality is inevitable but unwilling to face it.
Sparkler
He searched November’s frowning sky for dabs of gold…….the stamp of damp sealing once crisp air.
He remembered the early days when together they had leapt into the void of black unknown - their love chalking an uncertain night with confident strobes of neon.
Now, he held her the way a child handles a sparkler - awkwardly clutching, his eyes following her lead.
He knew one day soon, it would end, the fizzling light would come to an abrupt grey halt and he’d be left holding nothing but a memory. This moment was fast approaching but still, he clung on, attempted to keep it twirling, moving, dancing, alive….
And there she remained, at arms length - the act of holding on becoming ever more pointless as he watched the dwindle.
‘Write my name, write my name…..’ his soul begged, but her sparks no longer obliged. Instead they hissed back, jumping further and further away.
For now, they wrote her own name…..and soon he would be alone with his aching midnight hour.
.
On a slightly different note, years ago when I was a student, a guy that liked me sent me two conkers and a firework in the post.
In retrospect I am sure he was trying to be quirky, funny…..
I just thought he was fucking odd, slightly scary and ran for the hills. He should’ve stuck to mix tapes.😳😂
Reading them both together, it makes me wonder…. do two people ever experience it together at the same frequency, intensity? In true union?
The dance of fireworks cannot be synchronised, predicted…. and one light is always leaping slightly above the other isn’t it? Top dog.
Can a ‘firework love’ ever be sustained or must feelings of such energy eventually burn out?
Hmm….