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Little red man

User Profile: twerp
twerp February 10th

A little red man held his head high like the frosted tip mountains.

Unforgiving and cold, fostering harsh winds

Spewing hatred like a fountain,

With intentions to knock even the strongest whim

Into something sinister and grim.


The sparking of his smoked fire fashion,

Dim and begging on its knees to flash in

Like a lighter without its fluid,

Flickering diluted flames

He’s useless but keeps his passion.


His held head higher than ever before

Chest in the sky, joining the heaven

When a little bird came to hear his lore

Reluctant to care that his ways threaten

He learned to adore that little bird,

Even though he saw love as a needless

bore.


As the bird flew down, away from the sky

Into the trees and out of his mind

The little red man couldn’t understand why.

His mountains were high, but so was his head

The world down there should be at his stead.


So he dove from the highest tip top point

With snowy peaks, smoking chilled

Passing him by, forgetting his will

To the core of fire disappoint

And the little red man rots there still.


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User Profile: azurePond
azurePond February 11th

@twerp Ah, I really like this one! There’s something striking about the contrast between the little red man’s pride and that quiet moment with the bird. The imagery’s vivid—the frosted mountains and flickering flames give it this raw, almost cinematic feel. The ending hits hard too... tragic but fitting.  Feels more like a fable than a simple cautionary tale. Brilliant work!

1 reply
User Profile: twerp
twerp OP February 11th

@azurePond

Thank you, azure.  I wrote this after my lighter lost its flame, each time I tried to light it little flickers of flames came out and I admired its passion to light and related to its failure to do so.  Sooooo, I decided to add it into a poem.   The rest is just random back story lol.   Thank you for your kind words. 🤍 💭

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User Profile: Dingleboop
Dingleboop February 11th

@twerp

Another great piece twerp, inspired imagery as always. I love the contrast between cold and warm moods; to me it reads as hubris. The little Red man could have both if not being blinded by desire. I liked this one a bunch. 

1 reply
User Profile: twerp
twerp OP February 11th

@Dingleboop

I have actually never heard the word “hubris” thanks for expanding my vocabulary! 

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