(A Pyrophoric Poem from DependableFlame)
A Morning’s Path Toward Acquiring Light(The Petrol Kind, Of Course)
I reached and patted my left chest pocket repeatedly with the palm of my right hand, fingers fondling but finding no purchase on, nor
shape thereof a light. Blindly agitated as I surveyed them all, each in the pants, the other chest, the many pockets empty in my coat.
Can I please get my lighter back? The sort of oversight that had me questioning not only my morning routine but every decision that lead to it and from it and left me here in the cool morning air wanting, lacking that fire which appears so effortless yet must be maintained, fostered and care for.
The hot cup of decaf in my hand a blessing and a treat, my bladder would likely rue it later on but there was joy in the aroma as it wafted through the room, spun around the balcony and shared itself with the neighbors and those walking down the street.
But it held no light, only warm and fuzzies, a fondness of days gone by and perhaps the hint of motivation for the same. Like seeing through the haze of morning slumber which holds so tight and brings memories of fallibilities I’d rather not claim but have no choice unless I wish to be called by another name.
Dying On The Vine
My greatest efforts but filthy rags, my inspiration must be lit but the flame had escaped my pocket through poor planning of my own and left me aimless yet still searching. Not quite useless but
grasping in the dark for that which I had come to rely on but had thus escaped me like it’d floated off in a boat.
The dreams that once filled my days longing once again to find a home but I had learned better and rebuked them for reasons I wasn’t quite sure save the grogginess they induced in me and the fears they wrought besides all the anxiety which has piled up against that open door.
But the flame that flickered had been so strong and been my companion through countless mornings and nights so long that I felt the loss as profoundly as any I had experienced and yet I knew regardless of the depth of despair I would see it again despite the others I’d meet.
So I shook my head like a wet puppy wards off its bath, frantically searching for the truth that had been revealed at the beginning. And I found it and grasped it as the principle of greatest substance where fire comes to dwell and pushes out my forgetful shame.
Memories Of Remembrance
I could feel it tickling somewhere in the back of my mind but I knew it wasn’t there and was just a memory which can be such a bond and inspire to achieve great things that I may have known since
realization dawned and yet I find myself reaching and constantly kindling and relying on that hope.
Like an unscratched itch that is felt but never located, singing to my anxieties songs which know their pain yet are only shadows and distortions and cravings of hungers and thirsts that were once integral to my being but for yrs now I’ve hated from my core.
I knew the truth and was well aware of the principles upon which it rested as time seemed to be my friend regardless of the consequences which had been born upon my soul. Time, that daunting reality that doesn’t cease its countdown but in my darkest moments begs to retreat.
But I could never forget the bravado that was shown and felt though the promise of that pressurized vapor had such limitations to make itself useless aside from the most perfect of conditions though it dared not ignite when it was needed the most, fire in the hand to tame.
The Twinkling Of An Eye
Through countless efforts I could boast though it would all lead inevitably to my ardent shame and winking at the passersby as though I held some assurance of the hope in which I claim. The
principles so simple, so self-proving as to allay the fear that causes most men to grope,
And beg and steal and borrow though they know they will never return that which can only be lent but is so easily absconded with for fear of being found without a light. A bargain for which they never pondered and the truth which has been implanted into every detail of yore.
As realization began to dawn on me and wrap its tentacles upon all I see in that memory of the moment that it passed from me to you though I truly hoped my regaining would not carry the same confusion as my handing it over and then blindly taking a seat.
For all the questions I’ve posed until now may have seemed quite obvious to those who had witnessed the folly and the discussion for which I came to be so jolly. Alas, the flicker must be fueled and the hopeful never loses sight of the fullness of its fire or the validity of its fame.
Give Me Back My Petrol Lighter!
How silly I was to allow such distractions, which obscured the brightness of the light that I sought even though there were plenty of wicks, flint and fuel that I bought. My pockets were empty but
one of yours was full and what I was left with was not enough to cope
with all the lighting that needs to be done nor to satiate my fidgeting which is often so fun but no doubt lacks the superior motivation of lighting a smoke and still begs the question I need answered most, “Can you give me a good reason what you took my lighter for?”
Oh, I’m sure your unconscious behavior makes perfect sense and in tucking it away in your own pocket you didn’t mean to steal it from my hand. The aid of your still small voice will be no help for you though as I have to get that lighter back, anything less would be a beat.
And next time you come calling I’ll make sure it sticks to my hands like glue for without this precious tool of mine I don’t know what I’d do. If I ever I should give it up again, the joke will be on me and to do so willingly will surely make me the brunt of all the blame.
✌️
I love this pyrophoric poem! I think you should try writing more short stories. I was a big fan of how vivid and descriptive you were in this poem and would definitely read more articles like this that you have written or will write. It’ll be super cool if you wrote a short story for lighter that you’re selling too. I think people would really love a backstory on their lighter. What do you think?
I am glad to hear your enthusiasm for this poem Kevin, it really did my heart good to read as many of the reasons that you have outlined were motivation for why I wrote it in the first place! I also like your idea about writing short stories relating to my work and experience with individual petrol lighter. This is something I have been pondering for some time and a path I would definitely like to travel down a little more often. Thank you for the kind words and inspiration moving forward. I hope you will continue to frequent the site my friend!
I love this.
You put some serious love, time and consideration to this poem and it’s very artistic and thought out.
I appreciate that this isn’t your run-of-the-mill average poem and that you truly capture an almost melodic artform in how the poem tells the story as you travel through the journeyed story.
I’ve written poetry plenty of times myself over the years but never anywhere near this length or depth. Most of mine tend to focus on the description of beauty tying in my beloved wife and nature all round us whether it be earth, sky, or ocean.
There’s plenty of beauty at play when it comes to vintage petrol lighters being discussed but I was inspired by that often awkward moment when you reach for the lighter you know you have and comes up empty-handed.
I appreciate you stopping by Mark and especially for leaving such a nice comment and how got will continue to check back and frequent the site as I have much more content just line this in the works for future publication.
Maybe next time I’ll write about the beauty of a certain lighter.
This is great!! I really didn’t think about it this way, however I am a smoker and this got a round of head nodding from my table. Writing about how lighters are stolen and the insatiable urge to keep the lighter that is borrowed is almost primal. I have often been accused of being the lighter theif.
Thank you for the comment and I am glad you enjoyed the poem. I think being the lighter thief may often fall to the one that uses them most often. It’s sort of like the pen thieves I used to deal with while selling stamps at the US postal service. It was frustrating but difficult to get mad about because these people obviously had need of the pen or it wouldn’t have been in their hand in the first place but here I was the one who offered the initial invitation.
Wow, I could feel your pain at not being able to find your precious lighter, and at first I thought you needed it for something much more urgent than having a smoke. Excellent writing and yes I am sure you won’t lend it out so freely again. There is nothing worse than wanting something so badly at the moment that was expected, but now you suddenly can’t have it.
Thank you Michel, I am glad you found the poem interesting and appreciate you taking the time to leave this comment! I was sort of tapping into memories as I wrote this poem because that’s one thing I’ve noticed ever since I started using a refillable petrol lighter is that I never lose my lighter like I always did when I was carrying around a cheap plastic Bic all the time. Anyway, I do know what you mean about needing to get it lit now though!
Hi there! I found your article about losing lighters to be an interesting read. The way you presented the situation with humor and sarcasm made me chuckle. Your writing style is engaging and kept me interested in the article until the end. I’ve definitely experienced the frustration of losing a lighter before, so I can relate to your story. Have you considered writing more articles about everyday situations and presenting them in a similar tone? I think it would be enjoyable to read. Thanks for sharing your experience!
Thank you Murry I am glad you enjoyed the poem and also greatly appreciate you taking the time to leave your insights in the form of this comment.
I have thought about writing more content in this particular style but would have to go back and reread it myself to comment on the specific tone because I wrote it rather off the cuff, with a sort of melodic intention(and maybe that’s the tone you’re talking about, lol) than strict structural reasoning. Anyway, yes and thank you, I will consider writing more stuff like this. I hope you will come back and check it out!
I love your pyrophoric poem! I can see your passion just by the way you speak. The time, love and consideration place into this poem is somewhat mesmerizing as it is well thought through. I was a big fan of how vivid and descriptive you were in this poem. I would definitely read more articles from you like that as it is so captivating. Who knew lighters could be so interesting? I’m not much of a lighter fan but you surely “Sparked” an interest in me.
Amazing work!
Thank you Brian, I appreciate you stopping by and reading the article and also for such a nice comment. I definitely had some fun while writing this poem. I have thought for some time about writing a sort of serialized short fiction involving lighters so we will see what kind of inspiration hits me as far as that goes. I have written poetry and short fiction off and on since I was a young man so if people enjoy reading it this might be a natural progression.
I love this! I can almost smell the cigarette! LOL I loved how descriptive your words were and forwarded your blog to a few of my friends. I’m sure they will love it as much as I did.
I used to smoke many years ago and remember losing lighters and having to borrow a match. Not cool. Once I started reading I couldn’t stop. You have a very unique style that I enjoyed. Keep writing!
Carol
Thank you Carol, I really appreciate your encouragement and plan to write more fiction and poetry in the near future. I had a lot of fun writing this poem and conjuring images and emotions that are common to smokers of all kinds wherever they are found. I enjoy writing review articles over specific lighters and also the instructional repair tutorials that are probably our most popular videos and articles but have hoped for some time to figure out a way to be more creative with my writing.
I absolutely loved the creative approach of incorporating a poem into the topic of lighter borrowing! How you’ve used poetic language and imagery to convey the emotions and experiences associated with this seemingly mundane act truly elevates the subject matter.
Your poem captures the fleeting nature of lighter exchanges and highlights the subtle social dynamics that often go unnoticed.
By exploring these nuances through poetry, you’ve transformed an everyday object into a human connection and interaction symbol. Seeing such an imaginative take on a topic that most people wouldn’t consider worthy of artistic expression is refreshing.
Keep up the fantastic work, and continue to bring fresh perspectives to unexpected subjects!”
Thank you Mohamnmad, I appreciate all of your kind words and you taking the time to share your insights here. I really like how you picked up on the lighter being a connector among people, the social dynamics at play as it passes from one smoker to another or is held by one to light another, even being taken by one so it can be used later on! The creative aspect of this poem actually inspired me to attempt something I’ve been pondering for a while, a short story about lighters that I plan to serialize as well!
I really enjoyed reading this poem! Did you write this?
It is so descriptive and it pulls me in.
A lighter is definitely one of those things that people tend to borrow and never return quite like a pen. Often times, I think it is taken by accident but can never be too sure.
Lisa Marie
Yes, Lisa Marie, I would agree with you that most of the time lighters are not purposely stolen but rather like ink pens, they are typically taken by someone who actually has the need of them, even if it leaves the original owner out in the cold when it comes to having a light.
Of course, I wrote this poem, just like I have written everything we have ever published here at DependableFlame.com. I rather enjoyed this creative endeavor and plan to do more of it in the future. I hope you will continue to check back and frequent the site for more of this kind of vintage lighter content!
Quite an unusual piece. I thought it might get hard to follow but contains lots of imagery which help the poem flow very well. My thoughts were turned toward something to burn as I read it.
I was inspired partly through the images of unforgettable lighters I have seen, many one of a kind. Hope to see more poems that can help us see the visions you look to portray.
Thank you Elridge, I appreciate you stopping by to read the poem and especially for taking the time to leave such a nice comment. I definitely plan on writing more of this creative sort of content in the future. I love doing the instructional demonstration repair videos and article and the show & tell lighter videos and reviews are cool as well but am glad to allow my mind to open up in a few different ways than normal. There’s nothing boring about old petrol lighters and hopefully I can craft some interesting stories around them as well!
As a regular smoker, I can completely relate to the frustration of losing a lighter, and your article provided some great tips and insights on how to prevent losing it in the future, while also giving a good laugh at some of the creative ways people try to get their lighters back. Great read!
Thank you Dave, I am glad you enjoyed reading it and found it as creative as I found it fun to create! I hope you will continue to frequent the site and check back as there will definitely be more of this creative kind of content published in the future. I think smokers have been beat down by the supposed filthiness of their habit nowadays that it is always fun to see this activity portrayed in the media that we consume. I’m glad you had a good laugh and hope you encountered some familiar circumstances.
Okay, I cannot find anything to improve on this site and the accompanied pages and links
I will comment on your artisan style of prose as to how it brought back all those teenaged memories of experimenting with lighters and smoke.
It was a pleasure to be transported to the days of losing a lighter, especially my Zippo, and then finding it in some jacket pocket or the lining, because the pocket had a hole that it slipped into.
Thanks for the opportunity to once again smell the butane and hot metal of the wind guard.
Who would of thunk of making a niche out of old metal lighters. Glad you are preserving those times, and memories.
Thank you Rick, I really appreciate you reading the article and especially taking the time to leave such nice comments.
I don’t lose Zippos near as often as I used to lose cheap plastic Bic lighters that I carried around with me in my youth so a good deal of this poem was retrieved from my memory of losing those old plastic lighters back in the day. I really enjoyed creating this type of content so be sure to check back often as I will be writing more in this style in the near future.