Setting Fires: poems of singed petals

Setting Fires Copyright © 2018 by Sarah Saul

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-1985133822
ISBN-10: 1985133822

FOR HEARTS TO SUSTAIN ROUGH WATERS
#MeToo

FOREWARD

I first met Sarah Saul a few years ago when she was a
student in one of my creative writing workshops. I was
instantly amazed by her talent and maturity. It was
evident that the scope of understanding and truth in her
writing went way beyond her teenage years. She masters
language with a deftness that humbles me, and never fails
to astound and inspire.

It is with awe and admiration that I have had the
honor to work with her on her most recent masterpiece,
Setting Fires. The chapbook is a collection of poetry,
purposefully arranged to compose a story of current and
relatable issues. It explores sexism, abuse, abandonment
and love. Saul creates a balance of tone that is informal
and conversational, yet highly symbolic and lyrical. With
a strong voice, she encourages readers to redefine our
desires and reconsider expectations imposed today.

As in all of Saul's carefully chosen words, there is
meaning in the title of her chapbook as well. The phrase
“gaslit” was coined in a 1938 screenplay where a
husband tried to drive his wife mad by dimming the gas-
powered lights in their home. When the wife pointed out
the change, he denied that the lights changed at all. "Out
of my own experiences founded on gas lighting and
toxicity bloomed Setting Fires," explains the authoress,
"It is a story of enlightenment, expression and
empowerment."

The depth in Saul’s poetry lends the opportunity for
creative interpretation from a variety of perspectives. It is
multifaceted and rich with meaning. The beauty of
imperfection and vulnerability in her message instills
strength, wisdom and confidence. Each poem is a gift in
which the individual reader is bestowed a unique learning
experience as well as a keen awareness of the world
around her and her place in it, morally and spiritually.
Simultaneously, Saul raises a level of social
consciousness that encourages all of us to consider the
concept of humanity and the potential of our
contributions.

No matter who you are or what your life experiences
may be, many phrases will resonate and linger. Her
words will amplify your voice and move you to advocate
for the issues you believe in. "We all have the capacity to
love ourselves indefinitely," says Saul. "Process
adversity and be an advocate for the issues you believe
in. I believe we must stop dehumanizing each other."

In Setting Fires, Saul challenges her readers to strive
for self-love. Read her beautiful poetry and share her
observations and intuition. The experience will nurture
your soul and inspire self-discovery and growth.

-Allison Liebman,
Teacher, Writer and Creativity Coach





Sarah Saul

Gossip

I look for your colors everywhere.
I fire childish words at

the girl in the bank
because her mom,
remarried a guy,
who knew a guy,
who went to school with a girl,
who is now dating some guy,
that wears the same cologne
as—you.

2

Setting Fires

Position

Don’t you understand?
He must rest his head
beneath your chin
and purr

like he needs you.
Because he is so tired.
He has the hardest job
holding your happiness in
his palms.

3

Sarah Saul

Lost in Translation

Suppose I engraved,
“am I enough?”
in Sanskrit
on my forehead,
they would not notice. Or answer.
On my worn out palms,
“I work hard.”
in Chinese,
they still would not notice then.
On my forearms
that crease,
“I’m in pain.”
They would not even flinch.
Invisible ink,
spelled right across my breasts,
however,
they would regard me.
See,
salt and sugar may fool some,
but I promise
there is a delicate difference between being
valued and desired.
It is that plain and simple.

4

Setting Fires
5

Sarah Saul

Abstinence

If you only come to rent,
you can find your check bounced.
My body is not a warm house,
your stay for
an hour, a day, a week, a month.
Keep your suitcase home.
Don’t force your toothbrush
here.
Here.

Here,
the blind man
calls me beautiful.
Here,
there are tree branches
wrapped around my broken.
Here,
I will change all the locks.
Chain my fragility
to the basement floor.
Your voice is a mere
knock on my door.

6

Setting Fires

Desperation

Hungry eyes
with wandering hands
want everything.

7

Sarah Saul

Consumption

I have a sweet tooth for
your one-of-a-kind sugar lips.
They echo against mine,
harmonizing lust with electricity.
We play time to time,
in symphonies.
We indulge in touch.
It is a blossoming encore.
And,
I have forgotten
every other chord,
and
every other octave.

8

Setting Fires

Would you see braids as less kinky
if it was the braided hair
of unshaven legs?

9

Sarah Saul

A Compliment

He says, I look great.

Drooling over my sleek turtleneck. Shoulders open broad,
awaiting appreciation wrapped around his sides. His back still
frozen solid from last Winter.

Wife left. Bags packed. With her, went 30 pounds worth of
laundry detergent. You can find the remnants under her
fingernails. The wet goo seeped into her cuts. Cuts are drains or
open crevices. She is such a good house member. Doing her job.

The cat gone. There is a litter box in the middle of his floor, with
shit crusting over. One big last—well, you know the rest.

She took all the pens. They stain the back of his hands like soot.
The pens as good as filth gathering underneath keys of a piano.
Keys inhaling exhaling flat notes written in pale sharpie. “I’ll be
home soon” taped up to the fridge. She is such a good caretaker.

The wife: a car seat. The safest place in the vehicle. But, easy
enough to remove. To pile in landfills where saw dust crawls
into eyelids. Close the door, eliminate the vision, relieve the
visual…the carbon dioxide. A car seat. Still he, he needs her.

He says, I look great.

Lips parted in the shape of O—my god. The woman in the blue
zebra lace panties. Moving from bed, to kitchen counter, to the
backseat of his car. Only on the left side. Because he says, he
says, his kid always sits on the right. She has soul: blue zebra
lace panties girl has soul. Her teen pop albums stack high in her
trailer. They are the taste of aluminum. Metallic wed with bitter.

10

Setting Fires

Teen pop makes me want to die.

He says, I look great.

I offer him days numbered. A trip to my basement. Since there is
mold growing over furniture. Killing the suede. A gun to
fashion. I can’t cry bloody murder. Because captain, the
plumber, comes over on Saturdays. He turns on the water,
watches it run. He penetrates his antennas through my hair,
pushing my mama’s curls behind my ears. He sweats.

He says, I look great.

I let the water run in the basement so often. It’s supposed to
clean. The water pirouettes, intertwining, intruding cotton and all
of my linens, the suede, furniture. So…well, mold.

He says, I look great. He says, I look good. Skinny. I look
skinny.

Thank you. I have been lacing literature into my brain. Curling
my wit with that silver thing. Eyelash curler? No, fork. I sear my
tongue. Now ductile to wrap around spinach and forgive my
stomach.

I read in a magazine once that colors psychologically affect you.
This one time, I stood in the art section at the hobby store for six
hours. And finally, pastels. Today, my bedroom ceiling is
yellow. Yellow means happy. I’m lying back to floor, face
flushed, and I look into the hobby store pastels.

When he says, I look great. I look skinny.
I tell him, it must be the yellow.

11

Sarah Saul
12

Setting Fires

Acrylics

You fancy French girls.
Their zest,
or,
how they speak of you

like you are the sun.
I cannot quite put my finger on it.
But,
you swore to paint me
as your muse, instead.
And so, you did.
I was made.
You branded your name in iron,
claiming your work.
It was not until my hands were tied up against a glass case,
and a plaque under me,
that I realized,
I was hung on display

for everyone to see
what you destroyed—
The blank canvas.
Aren’t I beautiful...ruined?

13

Sarah Saul

Pharmacy

His voice is not an IV.
Do not embroider his name,
through wounds,
with thread,
and needle.
But, espresso.
Yes, espresso,
and milk
and one sugar.

Here is your cure!

14

Setting Fires

She is not
that moment
when he decides
to paint his kitchen blood orange
at 4 A. M.

15

Sarah Saul

Undress Myself for You

It’s sick
how I must
tuck and shield
pieces of myself,
my garden of roots
and soil,
my sunshine,
to avoid offending you.
It’s sick
how I must
shave away brilliant particles.
For,
I take up too much space
just being.

16

Setting Fires

Hallow Tenderness

When you are a victim of unsynchronized passion,
you fluctuate
between breathing fire,
and smelling hope,
in the darkest of places.
You spit tantrums out of distrust.
You tread with your head above water.
So, you wait.
So, you stay.

17

Sarah Saul

Setting Fires

Us:
Our love will ignite,
you will smoke yourself out,
until it is only I,
left with neither,
besides gasoline dripping down my fingertips,
watching as we burn to ash.

18

Setting Fires
19

Sarah Saul
20

Setting Fires

Desert

When I wrote
I’d be okay,
I meant
that like
how cacti
thrive on neglect,
I’ll survive.
And by survive,
I mean
It’s okay to leave.
I mean,
please don’t go.

21

Sarah Saul

The Playground

Affairs are especially like,
yet nothing like,
a bike ride in spring.
Your knees are scraped,
and you would do it all over again,
just for the thrill of it.

22

Setting Fires

Dry Mouth

Your name sticks to my tongue like
a snowflake.
I cut off crystals,
trying to remember
to forget the vowels that itch
at the tip of my tongue.
To forget how full
the empty spaces were.
Before the aching.
Before the void of your kiss.

I’m parched.
Give me the taste
of peace
dripping from your mouth.

23

Sarah Saul

A Tug to Heartstrings

I wept as I barbecued the blade.
Your leaving was
rough along the edges.
Tempting me,
it nudged itself in my direction.
An invitation into the realm of my skin.
It is enough
to have a love come
and watch them leave
to bleed.

24

Setting Fires

My soft cheeks
are

not here to sandpaper
over

your ego.

25

Sarah Saul

Honey-Suckle

Left here,
in all the garbage,
to peel myself out.
Bit by piece by chunk by mile.

To keep broken, aching bones
glued together with honey-suckle.
I hold myself together
while I shiver.
And he just stands there,
helpless.
This is strength.
My petals are fresh out of the dryer.
They are unwithered.
They do not shrivel up.
I am a rose,
I have bloomed.

26

Setting Fires
27

Sarah Saul

Clorox

Reminds me of
bleaching your blood off my floor.
When I sat beside you,
lungs falling out of your chest,
while you blew Newports down my throat,
with promises
and oaths.
I still find your blood stains;
I find cigarette butts;

I find crumbs from the mess
you
neglected.
I find myself scrubbing,
on my knees,
to rid the
dirtiness,
chemicals.

28

Setting Fires

The Color of my Anger

I stare at the ceiling,
angry about its
off-white tone.
Actually
it’s
plain white,
just not
asylum white.
Maybe
dove white,
But not glossy enough for an
egg shell white.
So I boil and count
the expense if I were to sink
and have the floorboards
swallow me whole altogether.
Because what type of world
would it be without the intricate streak marks of
chalk white?
Well, I tell ya—
A plain one.

29

Sarah Saul

Pretty Pain

Romanticizing insecurity
is the closest version of home
I know.
In my bedroom,

is a kennel
for bitches.
There is barking narcissism
on my front porch.
In my kitchen,
I swallow gulps of self-pity,
dip my toes in dark chocolate,
devour my beauty in licks of longevity.
My intellect is caramelized.
In my garden,
there are bees
swarming around my elbows.
And the funny part is,

not the funny bone,
but that I like how they sting,
how the pain lingers,
reminding me of my humanity and imperfection.

30

Setting Fires

Moss Updated

Suddenly, there are flowers growing inside of me,
with a heart to pump
of my own.
Paper cuts
may puncture
the walls of arteries.
And
band-aids are hardly curative.
But,

mustering the courage to give back the patterns of
your heartbeat
is.

31

Sarah Saul
32

Setting Fires

Volume

You are enough
without
shapeshifting
into a body small enough,
with the edges wide enough,
eyes big enough,
and
hair soft enough.
Need I say more?

33

Sarah Saul

Dollhouse

She was wholesome and Good.
I hang her up on the walls of my thoughts
to look around.
That was then.

Now, she is a force to be reckoned with.
She has wings.
And she soars.

34

Setting Fires

Women in the Kitchen

Don’t teach my daughter
she serves
for hungry eyes.
She knows better.
She is not an oven.
Not hot and ready.
Not wanting to be filled,
always.

35

Sarah Saul
36

Setting Fires

Mason Jar

Girl,
you have a dangerous habit of sitting in a half full glass
and
draining the water out.

37

Sarah Saul

Hope

The sky cries on summer nights.
Yet,
every morning,
the ground is a dry, warm hug
to the ankles.

This, too, shall pass.

38

Setting Fires

Healing is Flying

Mom would hold me real close
and whisper,
“On your tippy toes!
If you reach high enough,
you can fly.”

I open my ears
to hear the whispers
of the moon to the stars.
I hear the weeping of Mother Nature,
crashing her waves into poverty.
The roar of humanity,
scratching and pining
to rest on the shoulders of civilization.
The aura of souls
burning in oblivion
with a hint of godforsaken power.

Do you hear the same?
Or,
do you gaze up at the stars,
tell a tall tale,
recite a nursery rhyme or two,
and let the world pass you by
because
you are just too scared of
flying?

39