A single spark flickers in the loveseat there
Acrid smoke spirals up into the air
The cushions, the stuffing, they all turn to fuel
You have reason to fear me for I can be cruel
I was not set carelessly, but by design
The man is an arsonist, this place will be mine
The sparks catch the smoke, embers burst into flames
By morning you’ll never know who was to blame
Up the wall slowly my sleek tendrils run
Smoke rolls off the end table, wow, this is fun
I climb to the draperies, seep into the walls
The room’s temperature rises, the fire alarm calls
The plastic is melting, steam rises from the floor
I’m approaching the flash out, then I’ll have more
The walls and the furniture spontaneously combust
More gases, more fuel, suck in more as I must
I whisper at the windows like a lover’s caress
My glow lights the night like the sun in the west
At 1500 degrees this whole room will fall
The windows blow out, glass shatters and falls
Sucking in fresh air with a great, gusty roar
Burning it up and then drawing in more
Don’t come in that way or you’ll see my back draft
Oops - you came anyway, you violated my craft
The room has exploded, my flames are too hot
The arsonist did it, that murdering sot
For I was too powerful, too great to escape
And the people here died as I lit the landscape
Come morning they see the charred, broken remains
Of what once was a house, but now has my bloodstains
I do not bleed red like a human, like a being
But you can see my form with each smoke-stained beam
At the wall by the outlet my smoke-stains they rise
“Too narrow at the top, it was an arsonist,” they sigh.
A trail of gasoline where I raged through the night
Shows the path that he took as he deigned to take flight
But the real fire starter was harder to catch
A slow-starting devise with a cigarette - and a match
Bound together with rubber bands, left in the chair
It was never discovered as heat rose in the air
Too late they sensed trouble, but by then I was aroused
My great flaming breath has demolished this house
For I was as strong as my creator’s intentions
He watched from a distance as I came from his inventions
He saw as I took my time, burning the lot
And he smiled when they saw me - they would find him not.
He watched as smoke billowed high in the sky
Whispering a burning goodbye
Author notes
Contest Notes~
Username: Alaskan.Rain
Title Prompt: 10. Burning Goodbye
This is NOT just a random, far-fetched idea, but rather something covered in my Intro to Policing course. Professional arsonists often use time-delay devises to start the main part of a fire while setting false trails, like I mentioned with the outlet and the gasoline. These devices commonly are made of a cigarette and some matches. A fire investigator will tell you that smoke-stains are a dead giveaway. If they spread out wider at the top, it may have been a natural fire, but when an accelerant is used, the flames burn too hot and you get a pattern that is wider on the bottom and narrower near the ceiling. As for the loveseat - modern furniture stuffing is made of oil-based products that produce a fire's fuel once ignited. The smoke itself becomes a flammable gas.
A contest entry
- Titles! by Re-invention.
400 points, ended March 15, 26 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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Whoa!
I loved this, really did. You get into the mind of a fire as if it were a real entity. I practically saw the house burn to the ground from your descriptions and imagery. The rhyming was continues and hooking as well.
I wish I had thought of this haha. This is really something to be proud of. Excellent, amazing poem.
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wow... nice lesson btw
didn't knew it....
I loved the way this piece had me hook and how it was extremely different than what I thought was written.... I loved it... thank you for entering! -
Most interesting....
...and very well done!
Puzzled as to who/what was narrating, the fire, the essence of a spirit, but not a deterrent to enjoying the write.
Nice how you can use your training to provide a foundation for a story.
Thank you for the visit.
Amicus...
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Hello, Amicus, and thank you for the comment. Actually, I wrote it with the thought in mind that it was the fire itself telling the story. I guess I might need a little more practice at writing to get that point across.
Thanks again for the input.
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