I had a horrifying dream
Of a house that caught on fire
Our old house in the foothills
Became a blazing pyre.

It was an Old Ranch House
Sitting on a hill
We had sold it years ago
But I dreamt we lived there still

Spontaneous combustion
Is what it seemed at at first
But now I know it's arson
Evil at its worst!

The Flames burnt My belongings
It wrapped around my things
Especially my artwork
Tied with fire string

Now the house was not consumed
It was left intact
But my things were all destroyed
All the mirrors cracked.

It was put out with hoses
Of the garden type
But no one saved what I held dear
So it cremated my life.

But behind the house there was a cave
The Flames still Wild and Free
No water could quench it
It burns eternally.

There are some who are reading this
Give the devil his due
Could that fire be for me?

Or could it be for YOU?


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022



Biblical meaning of fire in a dream. To dream of a house being on fire represents feelings of powerlessness to stop some area of your life from being lost for good. It may also reflect angry destructive intentions or intentional harm that can’t be stopped

Some will not understand the meaning of this poem. But there are those who will. What you didn't count on was the Lord Jesus Christ. He can turn anything around. Flip the script. But even if he doesn't I will be content in any situation that I'm in. My life is not in this world but the next. Have your fun in this world my friends. It's the only joy you'll have for all eternity.

I furnish my house

with more and more stuff, around --


the sewer system.

you're my stone house.
No matter how much I
huff and puff
you'll continue to stand there
always welcoming me in.

The home you miss, is my burden; the longing of distance and miles is not there.

Concealed within living bone and spiral, no conquered land can I long winter, and longer yet retain.

Would you miss it - if it were always near? Those crude constructions composed of flora's corpses and Oran's nails; compose another, and... Still ye dismay:

"The house is similar, but the home is not the same."

A home requires a heart, but man has long since lost theirs; so crawling, I wonder:

"What difference is there?"

The house she grew up in
Is written in her heart
A decaying castle in EDSA
Separated from others
By the torrents of the road

The orange glow of its afternoons
Is the glow of her mind and body
Its rooms replicated in the way she talks
She moves and makes friends

Like the triune God
Which emanates from who?
Theodora or the house?

These days I contemplate the meaning of home
When the last breaths of my childhood are taken away
With every adult who had to leave
When the last of my teen years slip from my grasp
Along with friends who stopped coming over after school
What is left? This house, it stands empty
A new void I've never known
But I look around at ghosts of the past and I see
The pillars of this house creak, but they are sturdy
Changes matter not when the foundation is strong
Home changes its shape every so often, but you can always,
Always live here

I don’t know what to call you and I
I don’t know that what I feel is concrete
So, do I want you because of how badly you want me?
So, do I want to spend every waking moment talking to you because of how you give me light?
I don’t know what to call what we do at your apartment
I don’t know what to say when people ask if I’m seeing someone
When I am with you I feel like I am playing house
So, now what do I do to make it feel like home?

The world inside / the house
is empty, and you're hanging on-
to the railing one final time,
before your father starts the engine /
you're moving out / you're gone
deep into your book, the one
you took (from the library with no
intention of giving back) so long,
childhood; so long: shadows
expanding on the lawn as you sink
into your thoughts / into the wall,
feshly painted so the house would sell,
reading: receding: what you could never tell
your parents. [ ... ]
"Let's go," your mother calls,
but you're no longer there. She doesn't
notice that you're staying / it isn't
you who is obeying, exiting the door.