Clearly, poetry is NOT my strong suit. I struggle a lot with poetry: from finding inspiration as to what to write about, all the way to actually being able to put words down in verses. I don’t know why. It shouldn’t be this difficult, because poetry and other forms of creative writing all come from imagination. And I seem to generally be able to do the other ones just fine.
Also, I suck at titles. Obviously.
Well, whatever. This was a random poem I wrote. It’s intended purpose was simple and very literal: because of the sizzling weather we’ve been having (compared to many places, it’s cold, but for us here in BC– maybe Canada, even– it’s a big change), there’s been a lot of forest fires. And therefore a lot of firefighters. I definitely went really extreme in the poem (like, a bit too far, I think), but I tried.
And that’s all that matters, right? :-P
The Man Who Transformed
When the haze covers enough to dim the world
And the sun pierces through, a bright red laser beam
Unable to diffuse its energy,
He will take his truck and he will ride. He will have his
Great orange jacket, the sweltering, thick coat,
Orange like the raging inferno he struggles to control
Day and night. This heavy burden
Constantly on his back and yet if this load is removed
He will fall; will succumb under the blaze, under the veil of darkness
That swallows it all up. It will leap and twirl,
And he will run,
Sprinting for his meager life, because this meager life
Was a life made for saving and worth saving. And every time
He will carry his burden and no one will know,
Yet they will. Because they will see
The shapeless, powerful form of resistance,
And the man standing at the end of it, dripping with
Dedication and strength and perseverance. And he
Will transform into something more. Within the destruction,
He will create a corridor.
cratious mrrp *☮to #y@u~♫ 