Poetry 28 - Frozen Flames

What happens when you freeze a flame?

Is the water melted?
And is the fire gone?
Are there ashes?
Or a puddle?

Will it burn your face if you get too close?
Will it freeze you?
And will you get frostbite?
Like the people in Minnesota,
who go out in the Winter.

What happens when you freeze a flame?
Does it go out?
Or does it take shape?

Poetry 27 - Fish Glass

Shimmering sharp shards of glass swim in my head,
like a chandelier fallen into the ocean,
Katrina met my windows,
and broken transparency does all but pierce me.

Weights ride like I’m their only train –
transportation only to the grave.
Burden, bury me?
Burden, bury me?
Burden, be my shovel,
and pad the dirt.
Smoothen my grave,
even out this dead piece of Earth.

The world made me go swimming,
and I dove in.
I have been diving for years now,
and the pressure is increasing.
Oxygen masks –
exchange and refill,
whatever is needed,
I’ll still burst.
I will implode.

At the end of my life, let them know.
I did not float, I dove.