# January Challenge: "Fiery Glow"



## Chesters Daughter (Jan 1, 2016)

The prompt for this month's challenge, as chosen by inkwellness is: *Fiery Glow*

You are free to interpret the prompt in any way you wish, though of course, site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board.

We are continuing to allow optional anonymity this month. You may post your entries yourself, or, if you'd like to remain anonymous, you may PM your entry to me, *Chester's Daughter.* If you are posting anonymously, please indicate in your PM which board, public or workshop, you desire your entry posted on.

Kindly make sure your entry is properly formatted and error free before you submit. You have a *ten minute grace period* to edit your piece, but anything edited after that will likely see your entry excluded from the challenge. 

As usual, if you'd wish to protect your first rights, post your entry in the *workshop thread,* *and post a link to it in this thread. Failure to do so runs the risk of your entry being disqualified.

The inclusion of links of any kind within an entrant's Challenge post is prohibited and shall be promptly removed by staff.

Do not post comments in this thread. Any discussion related to the challenge can take place in the Bards' Bistro.

Now that the 'like" function is again blessing us with its presence, we respectfully request that you refrain from using it until this thread has been closed and the poll has been opened.

This challenge will close on the 15th of January at 7pm EST.*


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## shedpog329 (Jan 3, 2016)

*Cavemen

*In the heat of the moment,
man made fire

Johnny Hart paves the way
to the periodicals
and we save our place like
paper weights.

Extra! Extra! Read all
about it!
Don't forget your matches!

"Dormant caves craved dynamic 
change" 

And with a suspension in vain 
that went against the grain, came a
black space to the arms race.

Extra! Extra! Pick up the
paper!
Hot off the press with translators!

To be deep in the dark was an
ancient riddle. Talltales scribbled
upon walls, shadows sailed the stars 
till the night was ours.

And in the heat of the moment,
man made vision.


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## aj47 (Jan 4, 2016)

*PAR-TAY*


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## Nellie (Jan 6, 2016)

*Luminous (Haiku)*

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...ry-Glow-quot?p=1949272&viewfull=1#post1949272


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## Thaumiel (Jan 7, 2016)

*Flood*

Sins stride the sand at the mouth of the sea
two by two as they strike for the heart.
Sorrow drowns Hope in happy-hour
holy spirit and mixers;
two for the price of one.
While Love leaves on a
setting sun with
a sail of
shame laced-
red.


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## Darkkin (Jan 8, 2016)

*An Ember of Truth*

An Ember of Truth

It was truth reflected; Jackaby’s fate meted upon the shore, a blazing aureole.
Ring in hand, memories flooded in fleshing the bloody bones of the _Belle._
Echo and Miri, quicksilver flowing, the embers of his line, fires of his soul.

At Deeping she wrecked, the _Jeanette Isabelle_, Miri watching from the knoll.
To the Trioctopi, scarlet tentacles snatching, sister of the _Night Galleon_, fell.
It was truth reflected; Jackaby’s fate meted upon the shore, a blazing aureole.

Miri’s hell bright curls on the knoll were the final trace light as Jackaby let go.
Down to the depths he was taken, a last breath forsaken to Deeping’s Well.
Echo and Miri, quicksilver flowing, the embers of his line, fires of his soul.

Astride faithful Hermes, Miri plunged into the sea through flotsam and shoal—
Seeking for a sign of Jackaby Wright, but he was gone, taken with the _Belle_.
It was truth reflected; Jackaby’s fate meted upon the shore, a blazing aureole. 

Jackaby Wright at last knew the truth; ‘twas more than life the Huntsman stole.
From the bones of _Belle_ he snatched it, a light born of hope, not fires of hell.
Echo and Miri, quicksilver flowing, the embers of his line, fires of his soul.

A relic that ignited the stars each night, kept the constellations hale and whole.
It was a torch, lighted by Helia of the East, the Tortoise of the Golden Shell.
It was truth reflected; Jackaby’s fate meted upon the shore, a blazing aureole.
Echo and Miri, quicksilver flowing, the embers of his line, fires of his soul.


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## PrinzeCharming (Jan 9, 2016)

*Spark of Love*

A wounded organ nestles in the arctic space, 
an aspiring black widow with venom seeping from the sides. 
Euphoric beats once played with a dopamine race, 
The bandshell held a mosh pit of butterflies. 

Beautifully crafted cocoons left from infatuation or lust, 
the decreased caterpillars shriveled from insufficient trust. 
Dismembered victims carried wings that once tickled the walls, 
new echoes from a voice linger from the calls. 

Warmth restores the moisture and growth, 
the sporadic eggs represent a brand new oath. 
The arctic space reflects light like the blazing sun, 
the beating rhythm overrides what was done.


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## inkwellness (Jan 11, 2016)

*Sailor from the Iron*

Molten red awaited form:
the heart within the lion, 
from the fiery glow to mold 
the sailor from the iron. 

Every highborn captain knew,
as did their seamen low,
that some were sure to meet 
their briny death in tow.

The fresh fleet set against them
made their worn ships look old.
But theirs survived hellish mires
led by the hard and bold.

In battle, each man will hear
the cries within the fray,
those found rushing in will be
molded the fiery way.


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## ned (Jan 11, 2016)

*Bang!*


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## Gumby (Jan 11, 2016)

*Almost Done*


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## rcallaci (Jan 11, 2016)

*Fireball*

Fireball​
fire light!
fire bright!
grace me---
with your flame this night~
come what may-
come what might-
now’s the time
to stand and fight.

Let it Burn!​
make the devil cry-

Let it Burn!
make the evil squirm-

Let it Burn!
make the wild one die-​
turn up the heat-
force the darkness to retreat---
stalemate not an option
only iTs defeat~
no mercy shall be shown-
nor quarter shall be given-
destroy this insidious evil---
total and complete~​
fire bright!
fire light!
hear our pleas---
on swollen knees we pray~
come what may-
come what might-
now’s the time to make things right~​~

watch out for the devils bite!
make the devil pay---
with iTs blood and bones this very night…

end this frightening baneful blight--- 
for all the yesterdays, tonight’s, and tomorrows to come​
till the end and beginning of time …​


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## Chesters Daughter (Jan 13, 2016)

*Home Cooking (Mature Content)*

Divorce by fire,
screw the courts.
She passes a Bic beneath
her sentencing slip
embossed with a magistrate's seal.
After twenty years,
parole granted by sear.

Flame licks yellowed parchment
sickly as an alky's skin
as ebony snow falls
onto a coverlet
speckled by crusty carmine
from a seemingly drunk nose 
now listing to the left.

An investment of a dollar
for a pink plastic key 
to the prison;
all locks tumbled
with roll of broken thumb.
Disobedience spelled
disaster for digits
once his hammer
made itself at home
in a hand adept
at shattering bones.

A bottle of Sominex
snuck into the rum
(put him under
but not six feet)
fell short 
but not as short
as time. 
Her flight departs at four.

The retirement of C.O. Unstable
must proceed as planned,
lest she'd be ever hunted
by the insane man.

She caresses a seam
of his boxers 
with the last corner
of flaming past.
Singed pads go unnoticed
as amber devours black cotton 
and the scent of burning corruption
tickles blood-caked nares.

Hypnotized by flickering dance,
barking snaps her from her trance
as the troupe takes over the bed.

Suitcase in hand, new persona in pocket,
she steps onto the stoop,
lungs fully inflated with freedom.

The comatose muscles of her cheeks
creak in a comeback smile
as she spins to see 
the first wisps of flesh fueled smoke
snake through a cracked sash
beautifully complemented
by a backdrop of fiery glow.
Hell's embrace 
rises to the occasion.

He always was an avid fan 
of good barbecue,
surely he's enjoying
his just desserts.


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## Cran (Jan 13, 2016)

*The Maiden Lay Dreaming - Warning: Erotic Theme*

*

the maiden lay dreaming*

And now, sweet maiden, prepare thy smile
for the lover, the dancer, the tall silent stranger
approaches and holds out his hand to take yours.

Then creeping soft through the nightly wood misting
in diamond-dewed slippers, the maiden lay dreaming,
to come to a meeting place of golden light
and a low swollen moon bathed in warm fire.

In the silence, a single theme from a woodnymph's pipe
calls to the dancers, "come gather 'round",
and the bards to the music the first movement strike.
As you dance with the master, the maestro, the player,
his fingers press notes upon your bared spine
from your neck to the sweet dimpled small of your back,
from a soft hum of pleasure to a deep moan divine.

And his arms enfold you, surround you and lift you
as music like flamesmoke in whirling ascent,
and breathless are borne through a starry sky,
then descend to his arms to be taken
to kisses as soft as a sigh.

His breath and his hands move to cover your skin
in a sinuous feline motion,
and his lips touch your neck and stir you within
to his urgent passion's devotion.

The red flames dance higher as he lowers you down
and he kisses your lips and grows bolder,
then draws on the ribbons that tied back your hair
so it falls to caress your pale shoulder.

The gown which covered you slides from your breast
and reveals your charms to behold;
when he presses against you the weight of his chest,
his heat displaces the cold.

Now the moment is passed when you might resist,
and with hungry delight traces your body,
which trembles and writhes as it is kissed,
as the panther descends from your breast to your belly.

And your skin tingles cooling where his tongue has passed.
Then all thoughts are lost in a clouded enchantment,
when his mouth finds your intimate pleasures at last.

With high arching back and tense clutching fingers,
the lotus of Venus worships the moon,
and brings forth your nectar for the tongue that still lingers
to drink of your pleasure and draw you to swoon.

So does the music call forth the new rhythm,
rolling like thunder through your pale flesh,
as mystical waves of inner communion
rise and fall and be reborn afresh.

Muscle and sinew draw tighter your breath,
and a strangled cry in your throat is released
in a single moment of pleasure divine,
and glowing whispers of peace ...


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## Phil Istine (Jan 14, 2016)

*Sacrifice*

http://www.writingforums.com/thread...ry-Glow-quot?p=1952432&viewfull=1#post1952432


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## jenthepen (Jan 14, 2016)

*
Walking Home

* 
True blackness is something that can be touched,  
with a pressing squeezing velvet weight  
all hung with soft whispering leaves. 

Footsteps are noises that drum in the mind  
when they come from behind or ahead,  
instigating a tingling dread. 

A light is something that hovers ahead 
and is glimpsed down the length of the road, 
wavering as it draws close.  

A threat is something with lumbering gait  
and malevolent fiery glow, 
as relentlessly slow as fate.  

Fear is something that crowds into the mind  
and leaves dread choosing what it will find,
a chaos that cannot be read.  

Relief is something that’s caught in a name  
and foolish shame, as a neighbour is met 
and salutes with a wave of a cigarette.


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## PiP (Jan 15, 2016)

* From The Embers of Hell*


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## Chesters Daughter (Jan 15, 2016)

This challenge is now closed.


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