Best Coal Poems


Premium Member The Signal Box

when industry
stood on this soil
with chimneys that 
spewed sweat and toil
the furnace fires 
relied on mines
through arteries 
of railway lines.

now looking back 
to charcoal skies
through rosy mists 
of childhood eyes
a line of trucks 
each filled with rocks
crawled slowly past 
a signal box.

the building formed 
a silhouette
that framed a scene 
I wont forget:
the dying of 
that worldly light
was captured there 
in black and white.

I'm standing now 
where true art stood:
in a 'reinvented'
neighbourhood
where sleepers sleep 
beneath the grass
where once those engines 
used to pass.
Form: Rhyme

The Price of Coal

The mining villages of Wales
are steeped in history and tales
of sons and fathers, duty-bound
who earned a pittance underground.

For generations miners toiled
with picks and shovels, faces soiled.
Their throats parched dry and fingers raw,
black gold the aim, etched scars the score.

And mountains whisper tales of men
who failed to re-emerge again.
Or nevermore could breathe with ease;
Sad victims of black lung disease.

In valleys shaped by pride and grit
within the black and hostile pit,
black powder prowled and took its prey
but brotherhood did not give way.


11/11/18

'Black powder poetry contest' : Sponsored by Anthony Slausen

Your Choice (3), sponsored by Brian Strand
Form: Rhyme

The Coal-Est.Hot Item

(Inspired by the genius of Ms. Norey Bailey. Please check her out )

Soulful sista
Strolling in her full spirited stride
Just couldn't hide
From my heart's searching eye's
that I swore I
wouldn't allow to be blinded by this mindless modern day luv no more
Until that particular half second
I wanted to run-------grab her by the hands!!!!!! 
AND......
take her down to see the Reverend

I didn't have any spare time that was to be wasted
Wanted to recycle my trashy reputatation
Strip
      Down         My image                                                                      Un-til- it was raw

So that.....
It could be steamed and not fried
BLESSED
Not viciously devoured
  Hope that I'm a genourous helping
That'll nurture your body and soul
and in no way be unhealthy
One who'd always fill you up, never leave you empty
Be your top and bottom money maker and not once will you ever have to pimp me

Easy to open
Hard to tear apart
I play a game thats not a game & i trump any Player's card
I'm what the mighty-dollar can't buy
And I'm the same thing that stores just don't sale


Premium Member The Hearth and the Black Coal Boots

Ho! Ho! Ho! It's sure a tight squeeze.
I was able to go down the chimney with ease
and miss the bed of coals.
Mrs. Santa is right; I have to start the New Year with new goals.

Everyone must have just gone to bed because the cocoa is still hot.
Chocolate chip cookies and hot cocoa will really hit the spot.

Oh, yes sir can't hurt their feelings. I'll sit, and take of my boots and rest
by the stone hearth from the cold burr and hang loose before I head west.

A mouse came scavenging for a bite of the chocolate chip cookie,
took one look at me and climbed on my lap snuggling in beside me.

Before, the snow starts to stir and reindeer decide to leave me behind;
I'll leave their Christmas gifts under the tree since they were so kind.
Slip on my leather black coal boots trimmed in faux fur,
back on my sleigh full of gifts for the kids before I forget how many there were.

12/2/2017
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Coal Miner's Mother

He stood there in the late afternoon rain
Holding his tin and thermus
In coal blackened hands
Hatless as the water ran through his hair
Streaking white tracks down his face
To zebra his cheeks  and whiten the nape of his neck
The wet black hair  clung flattened to his head
He turned his head up into the soft rain
In moments he was white again
That pale white white that seldom sees the sun
Winter white his mother called it sadly
He wondered what the woods were like
Where she so often went to harvest food
And all those other weeds she boiled or dried
Was it just last week that she had died?

Roslyn Coal Mine

Twenty-two miles to the Roslyn mine.
Two blocks beyond, ten headstones you'll find.
All dated the same the registry claims,
though the wind, the ice and acidified rain 
have disfigured and stolen the names of those souls.
My tears they might wash and reveal some of those
but are wasted. They run down my nose.

The #4 Mine blew out in ‘09.
Now ten graves lay neatly in line.
Each man skipped the Army to work underground, 
found eternal peace and never were found. 
Twenty got out, then the fan house she blew 
from an explosion of black damp allowed to accrue.
Ten lives disappeared in the dust and the fumes
And in the dark they were buried like in Brigadoon

I left by the toll road, crested the pass, 
crystal streams from Lakedale my compass. 
To a sacred valley of aspen and ash. 
Ten decades to heal now, tears looking back.

historylink.org/File/9182      
   and    images.findagrave.com/photos/2020/49
/19026379_61b0f05c-4e3f-4938-82d3-5f06c999da64.jpeg
© Ken Rone  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative


A Lovely Gem That Turned From Darkest Coal

XCIII

A wretched bond which all my life had borne
My sin I love and own, alas owns me
Deceitful heart that love these chains and thorns
Unsacred ties that binds, how may I flee?

Then suddenly at dawn my dungeon breaks
Fresh wounds I see on pierced hands stretched down
From darkness he my poor, dead soul did take
That from my temples fell sin’s hollow crown. 

Down deep within the chambers of my soul
From my disgraceful state, a prize he found
Like lovely gem that turned from darkest coal 
A true desire to praise with sweetest sound 

   Much rather would I from some good retreat
   Till sin is bitter, Christ will not be sweet
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member Coal of Duskfall

Even the pang that duskfall leaves me
is a slow fire in itself
that burns like oil on my pores
till the falling of another night,
when once again aloneness steals the luster
in the sky to burn within my heart
like a treacherous destiny, 
burying me from adventurous trails.

I should have known...
there is no real dream between
fate's seemingly empty promises
and the runaway moon's brief goodbyes:
With this damn thought; life is a play,
a flavor bitter as an  aftertaste on my tongue
when a groan washes tears away...
never shading me from this coal of isolation

that I am gone, done unto dusk's remains.


--------------
Contest of Edward Ibeh: Misery
01/01/2019

Premium Member Dark Coal of Night

Vibrations from a Verso  7-25-25  Sponsor: Nette Onclaud Theme Chosen: Dark Coal of Night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dark Coal of Night

Moonbeams, morning’s prophet,
Chase coal of night
Into wombs of white fire
As flames imbue
Dreams with clarity’s gems
Facets of light,
Glittering stars of dawn ~
Diamonds of dew.
Form: Other

Coal Mine

They were working in a coal mine
six miles below the ground
We hit a pocket someone yelled
then the walls came tumbling down

They could not see through all that dust
as they scrambled to get out
The shaft was sealed with tons of rock
"we're trapped" came someones shout

Within three hours the dust was gone
thank god no one was hurt
They sat there staring endlessly
at those tons of rock and dirt

We're here for good a man cried out
"start praying" someone said 
Don't give up, there's always hope
no matter what you dread

A miner took a shovel and pick
and headed down the shaft
You're going deeper someone yelled
"I know, I feel a draft"

They heard him digging in the dark
the lanterns growing dim
Then someone yelled, as a brilliant light
shone blindly right past him

Some miners yelled and others cried
"my god this can't be true"
For there alone was a world beyond
the wall that man broke through......
© Pete Yuhas  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

Canary In the Coal Mine

Caged in shadows
the canary breathes
amidst the clutter and din
of coal miners
who toil to extract
livelihoods
from veins underground
fortunes told
with its demise
too late for those who seek
fresh air and light
as families above ground
gather and wait
under a pale sun
for news
they feel in their veins
will come.
Form: Verse

Death In a Coal Mine - Child Miners

Into the bowels of the earth we descend
Down into the pit of hell
Crawling on hands and knees to mine
This precious fuel they call coal

Now Petey and I we are almost men
He is ten and I'm eleven
Been working here, down this mine
These last two years and month now

Mum is counting on us as men
Since Dad died from consumption
Coughed every night, spat out blood
Now gone to be with Jesus

The work is hard, it's hot down here
To work by flickering candlelight
The dust so thick, you always taste it
It makes you cough and splutter

We've almost reached the coal face
When I can hear some rumbling
I turned my head to speak to Petey
When the world collapsed around me

I don't know how long I lay there
When sense returned to me
By the flickering light I could see
The roof caved in behind me

Now I don't know if Petey was safe
Or if Petey was buried under
But what I knew and the news was bad
This was a miner's worst nightmare

Not a breeze came through, no fresh air
The tunnel tightly sealed
I think I knew deep in my heart
My bones would find rest here

Time passed, don't know how long
The candle burned away
The last light my eyes did see
Then blackness all around

I had seen night and I'd seen black
But never before black like this
The silence too was deafening
A tear squeezed from my eye

I cannot cry, I am a man
But the tears slid down my cheeks
I told myself for Mum I cried
What will become of her

The air so stale, tis hard to breathe
My eyelids heavy, drooping
Slowly I drift off to sleep
Tomorrow I'll awake in heaven



~ ~ ~ ~ ~







About this poem:
Sadly children as young as five were sent down into the mines and should there be a cave in it was more economical to leave them there and keep mining in a different direction. Thousands of children perished working in mines.
.

A Coal That's Burning Bright

A coal that is now burning bright
Now lights the path that I shall go
It shows me all the foes I'll fight
So I can learn and wisely grow

This coal that touched Isaiah lips
A coal that is now burning bright
Has touched my soul like heavens kiss
It's brought me from the darkness into light

No matter what my present plight
It's light has set a path that's clear to me
A coal that is now burning bright
This coal that set the captives free

This coal it is the word of God
That gives the blinded soul new sight
It is His sword and His rod
A coal that is now burning bright
Form: Quatern

Coal-Filled Boots of Santa Claus

COAL-FILLED BOOTS OF SANTA CLAUS


Old Santa rose from in his bed, a deeply winter snooze
His bare feet touched the freezing floor, he called out for his shoes
An elf, her name was Kimberly came running to his side
“Yes sir” she answered with a laugh, one that she could not hide

She set the boots down on the floor by Santa’s frozen feet
Then looked out towards the vestibule to plan her quick retreat
When Santa placed his feet inside, he let out with a howl
Then shouted out to Kimberly, “You get in here right now!”

“Who put this coal inside my boots?” Kim’s silence she now broke
“Oh Boss, no need to be so mad,  t’was just an elfin joke.”
Well Santa, being who he was now wore a happy smile
He said,” Oh Kim I am not mad.” They laughed a little while

“But now it’s time to get to work, the holidays are near
Though one last thing before we go, I’ll make this very clear
If one more time you pull this prank, get ready, here’s the twist
The elfin name of Kimberly, will top the naughty list.”



11/15/18

Written for the COOL WRITES AND IMAGINATION Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
Form: Rhyme

Old Coal Mourner

day after day
he came here
his mournful tale to tell
upon an old torn suit

he was in the world
unlucky was the lot
so said he
old coal mourner

digging out
was his revered job
upon the treasury land
from dawn to dusk

digging for nice one
the revered old lord
so said father
upon enugu coal city

now that the tunnels
are deeper than abyss
o, from the death-traps!
thither he had fled
© Canny Amah  Create an image from this poem.
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