Best Metal Poems
Dizzy cat
Staggers and spins out of reach...
Birdie laughs mocking
Living in a house very old,
it was always drafty and cold.
Metal stairs to the basement lead,
from an old pirate's ship they said.
Was this story really told?
On the ship many were sick~dead,
did they all walk the plank in red.
Those metal steps brought real fear,
a bottomless pit was so near.
Dark and dusty I must now head.
The washer~dryer were in here,
clean clothes I needed to appear.
I headed for the metal stairs,
a voice was calling in the airs.
Where are you now going my dear?
Date Written:6/9/2022
HowManySyllables.com and RhymeZone
Like an old piece of metal all covered in rust.
I am but a shadow waiting my turn to be dust.
Just as card dealer understands the game cards.
I know dying is easy; living with death is hard.
The end of the chapter is but a flip of the page.
Sometimes it’s real hard to not seethe in my rage.
One of my friends just got murdered; another one got life.
As I sit here safely cradled in the loving arms of my wife.
I try to remember the things that I never could forget.
I have finally reached a point where I have no regrets.
They’re things in this life that will never make any sense.
I guess to keep the chickens in you got to build a fence.
I think every soul on this earth has its own special needs.
If you were to stab me with a knife would I not bleed.
I once searched through my soul and taught myself to care.
I may not have much but I always have something to share.
You know, knowledge is not a fruit that grows up from a vine.
It is something that we slowly gain; through the passing of time.
Our lives are but a series of journeys full of special treats.
These journeys make up chapters of either glory or defeat.
Add up all the chapters and then let the book be whole.
In the end it will be you my friend paying for your soul.
Written for Constance's contest
Can you put your pedal to the metal
Let me feel the force
Yeah’ put your pedal to the metal
Race around this course
I wanna hear that engine
Smell that rubber burn
Hear them wheels spinning
As we hit that blinding curve
Come on put your pedal to the metal
Slam your foot to the floor
Let me hear those tyres
Make them squeal some more
I want to smell that burning
Of rubber on the road
Keep that engine revving
Full right lock here we go
Round and around
This car so hot
No don’t let of that throttle
Show me want she’s got
Come on hit that gas
Rev it hard, don’t you know
That's a V12 engine
under the bonnet
Let's have a Smokey Joe
Put your pedal to the metal
Hear that engine roar
The wheels are spinning furiously
Come on, I want more
They're pouring out with smoke
Those tyres turning on the floor
Let's see what she can handle
Hit that pedal hard for sure
© Copyright KC. Leake
11th January 2015
All Rights Reserved
“Slam-en Mental Metal”
Posted on July 16, 2011 by lyricvixen
“Slam-en Mental Metal”
here to my mental, metal brake down
throw me to the wall
shove me in the back
Hook::here come my iron maiden
heart attack
move out the way
or I’ll crush you
I said move
Hook::shake, I said move
shake the ground
I said move out the way
here it comes
my mental metal brake down
Hook::shake, I said move
shake the ground
I said move out the way
Hook::shake, I said move
shake the ground
I said move out the way
Hook::here come my iron maiden
heart attack
Copper blooms, titanium too below the iron of the sky
Rich fields of ore, quarried, lay everywhere without a quarrel
In conjunction with all things shiny on the land and rust of day
Mountains pinnacles are miles high
With gold draped cliffs of drifting yellow beads of brass
Green vegetation grows around them to quell their worries
Reaching to be free from electricity, thermal conductivity
Streams that run along the fields of metal valley mines
Gray with aluminum strands soft and solvent
Punctuate the landscape up above
Anodizing, analyzing, thinking they are zinc
So much of zinc below the solid surface riches
All this to be discerned by proper science expeditions
Metal machines gather what they need to feed their kind
Golden days, silver nights, tongues of tungsten
Wrap themselves around themselves for warmth
Metalloids are not yet born or forged
Malleable to shaping when they come
Some nonmetallic friends stop by to see the young
Marble and silicon are spies
Disclosed, exposed as such
Despised, disposed of for their corrosive side and lies
Platinum dressed in blue arrives
Stays to take a smoke or two
Smoldering in a blistering sun
Smelted, furn-aced for the future
To be tempered into something smooth
To contemplate the truth with other alloys
Query how all metals can be used
How Earth can hold itself together with the ores
Both in the ground and in the metal fields outside
To lay aside barren lands their souls in sun for warmth
Metal-tate a way to feel the force
They carry on and need no water
Of course rocks are most jagged and driest on mountain tops
They yield the finest metals, minerals at their pinnacles up there
And where suns furnace first glowed on
Touched the tip of Earth
Up there still, refines, defines the metal fields
9/22/14 Pinnacle - Poetry Contest
My head banging days
Quiet Riot's biggest fan
heavy metal lives
Solid fused, joined heat flamed blue,
metallic ice cured new robotic shoe.
Shots in silence, unseen rapid fire,
enslaved micro machines for hire...
Artificially ignorant a mechanical demise,
bio adapted hand processed data of lies.
a recharged battery still has to die,
why is that robot waving to us good-bye???
Listening to heavy metal music is so awesome, it's like I'm in a mosh pit. It's also as if
I'm at an underground concert in New york City, on Saturday nights. When I'm listening to
a lot of metal music, it's like being in a giant pit of inferno. I can feel the adrenaline
through my brainwaves. And when I listen to the music, I also feel the rush throughout my
veins. If there's a heavy metal concert was in town, this is going to be like an
underground concert for all of the underdogs where the mayhem is really happening. The
guitars, the amps, drums, and the bands; they're all very entertaining. I put in a heavy
metal music CD in a CD player, I press "play," and when the music plays, it will be like a
headbangers festival in North Hollywood, California. And with a lot of heavy metal albums
that I were to own, this will be like a real house party.
Look, look at those wondrous machines there,
With the metal legs and the wooden face.
See the sneer and melancholy stare.
Look at how they move in step with their merry dance.
Oh, oh, they speak with a fluid British tongue.
Oh, oh, their rhetoric is sure a choice pick,
But their malicious eyes and moving lips in song
Betrays the evil that lies in their wick.
Ten million of them lurk in our alleyways,
Now part of this world’s chaos
In their maddening, clattering sway,
Mimicking us in their mumbling chorus.
For rust won’t destroy them,
Nor fire, nor riot, nor flood.
We were their gods but we became their slave
As we die in the fiery gleam of their mayhem.
We cry at this monstrous immortality we created!
Dust devils harass the ground,
Sweeping up accessible layers of earth
Stagnantly rooted in their stake
Of vast uncaring land along train tracks in the desert.
The wind-born dirt
Whisks against calloused surfaces
Of metal things carelessly left
On the dry earth of the forgotten South Forty.
A bucket, a barrel,
A ‘40 Ford Coupe left to die of rust;
An armadillo on the edge of a highway.
Flakes of faded iron skin litter the dust
Like dead leaves on the linoleum
Of a kitchen covered by sagging, burnt shingles.
I can see small pieces of metal on a knee
and I walk into a shadow
and puts me down
because my pants
black and worn
not shall gleam as polished metal
over the knees
They came like locust
A clustering crowd clattering leaves
And when the cloud into cirrus strads had fade
I saw nothing the same as before.
Heap upon heap they came
Tormenting everything whose structure
Or bone or faith is metallic,
Tearing down bridges, or train lines
Or cables of communication
Leaving us to be spectators
And non-strategic commentators of greed.
It is a strange occupation
In a country without mines, or manufacturers
Forging iron and steel into added value of history
Our energy and vision
Has no capacity for such excursion
From the dilemma of our tormented box.
I shudder when the land is barren
When we no longer import the finite supply
I shudder when the pockets run dry like rivers
Whose beds we do not clean
Or is it only I that see the forecast of the storm?
Winter has arrived for a treatment and later makes a grand entrance at the
hairdressers.
At home,forged metal, molten metal ,blacksmith hammering a horseshoe.
Quicksilver mercury smooth metal etched and inlayed with black enamel
Straw bale for pillows, candles for lighting illuminating dried sage fumes.
Family crest on metal armour , heavy metal armour etched with all over design.
Clip-clop , clip-clop your chariot has arrived with footman unrolling the steps.
We're off to lunch at the hog's breath cafe, the smell of burgers is over-
whelming!
Just a small bite, that will do , no need to wolf it , the puppy can have the rest.
Today is our hairdressing day and many small swatches are presented.
Fingers running warm water through reclining hair start a scalp massage.
Swishing fabrics, clicking heels, strong musk perfume , Madame has Arrived!
This year Winter wants to make a strong impression...Platinum Blonde!
Thin as a whistle, pale make-up, fluffy white sheepskin collar and cuffs.
With just a small dash of colour ..A chunky red jewel sparkling in silver.
full metal jacket
i carve the tree .. bleeding
pen ..paper and ink