Best Refinery Poems
You get to walk into a new day
While someone would give anything
To see a new day unfold
You get to inhale a breath of fresh air
While somewhere someone is struggling
For every breath they take
Your life might be full of challenges
While someone would give their last
Just to feel something,
Just to feel anything again
Your today might not be what you had in mind
But in this instant someone would love
To have just an inch of what you have
Do not measure your capacity by the lack of something
Measure it by the grace you walk in
Because every step and
Every breath
Speaks of grace
Even through pain
Even through heartache
Broken doesn't mean finished product
It means in production to refinery
©123016022016
Categories:
refinery, encouraging, life,
Form:
Light Verse
Three days in - three days of school - and it’s like I never left.
In school, you can get oversaturated with screens. I like books.
They have a sense of permanence, they don’t glare back at you,
and I want something physical I can grip, markup and push off
the bed onto the floor when I get over it.
After three days of class, I’m asking (no one in particular), "Are we there yet?"
I can speed-read if I have a pointer - I use cocktail picks (swizzle sticks?) - you know, the little olive skewers you get in a martini? I have a collection from all over the world.
If I go to a bar and they have nice swizzle sticks, I’ll gather a few up. “What are you DOing,” Karen, (Lisa’s mom) asked me as I scarfed up several from patron’s empty glasses at the elegant, Refinery Rooftop bar in Manhattan.
“I have a TON of reading to do,” I explained, helpfully.
“Don’t even ask,” Lisa shrugged, rolling her eyes, when her mom looked confused.
The trick to speed reading is your eyes (and brain) pickup more than you realize and people tend to pronounce things, in their minds, as they read, which REALLY slows you down. So, you swivel the pointer down the page, following the pointer with your eyes, and Walla!
You can’t do THAT with a computer screen. You need a book, and when you have 2 or 3 hundred pages (or more) a night to read, you can’t just hold your breath and refuse - like a seven-year-old - can you? Seriously, I mean, can we? I’m asking - though it’s probably a little late (senior year).
Now, of course, not just any appetizer toothpick or fruit pick will do - the selection process can be rather byzantine. They must be a certain length, about 2 inches longer than my finger, so my hand doesn’t block the text, and square ones are the easiest to grip. Finally, if they have a little arrow-point on the tip? Well, that’s true love.
The problem is, I can get a little intense when reading and they tend to break. When my roommates hear me exclaim, “God DAMN it!” At 2am. They usually know why.
.
.
A song for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
Categories:
refinery, homework, school, student,
Form:
Free verse
The birth place of world war II
after an invasion void of any declaration.
Stamps on history’s book by feminine hands
to ascertain the first death sentence of the same human disaster.
A time frame marked its stolen identity
signifying its absorption into the world map
when three neighbouring nations rolled dices on its existence.
Roman Catholicism is advertised by the sun
in this place where it’s the pioneer of oil refinery
and the continent’s most important reproductive clinic
to border-crossing summer birds.
The father of Europe in king Kazimierz Jagiellonczyk
married off his three seeds of fertility
who were carrying rich humus
to the germination of Europe’s greatest dynasties.
Another king flatters history when he re-based back to his origin
to honour a coronation conflicting the poles’ election.
The heart of the world of European Jews
where their rescue during the holocaust was second to none
where the first artificial language, created and sustained;
and having a patriot decorated five times on physical masculinity.
It is the home to the famous Nicolaus Copernicus
and the birth place of the globally applauded Marie Curie.
The last will and testament of the expiring country
marks the first European constitutional state.
The underground salt cathedral is significant in its global age ranking.
The Bialowieza Primeral, epitomizes the continent’s last ancient forest
and the piwnica Swidnilka ranks the first
in the pride of the continent’s aged restaurants.
Its historic medicinal use of vodkas
and the blossom to the stem end direction
of peeling Bananas ready for consumption
beautifies the grit of a nation which stood firm
even after a forty and three attempts of invasion.
Categories:
refinery, community, education, environment, history,
Form:
Ode
Who is a Prisoner Now
My back yard has high walls and is like sun trap, I sit here and
get a tan in winters... the walls, cracked, need a lick of paint.
I can see a map of Europe, lakes, rivers and open plains
where wolves roam and hunt elk, and man shot wolves.
The map changes I now see the Caribbean and the Islands
dotted about. When I was on a small tank ship years ago I had
a chance to go ashore, visit and explore most of the Islands
.... mainly I fear, my interest was to meet lovely girls, of what
these Islands have many, and with a few of them swam in
crystal clear waters of innocence. I also had the sense to see
those pearls of Islands in early morning haze.
So many years ago, yet I remember Teresa, in Curacao, and that
is a great recall, as the Island itself is rather flat and has little
to offer of beauty, its only claim to fame is a big oil refinery and
the largest camp of prostitutes I have ever seen. Anyway the sun is
setting and shadows erase my map, time to go in and lit the fire,
but reminiscence of a time gone by lingers.
Categories:
refinery, basketball, beach, beauty,
Form:
Blank verse
The Nature of Success.
On an old tank ship that was so slow it felt as
we were suspended in time, a world shrunk
only us the ocean and the rhythmic hear beat
of the engine… and when the ship birthed, at
some god forsaken refinery, we felt overcome
by shyness seeing so many strange faces.
It was on a ship like this I met the third officer
a young man with literary ambitions, and he
succeeded on Norway´s modest literary tree.
Often interviewed, asked awkward questions
about writing and why he writes like it should
be a hidden formula.
I´m glad for his triumph, yet there is a sting in
my heart, not of rancor, but of sadness…never
having received the clarion call of acceptance.
Collections after collections have been rejected.
I feel as I have been suspended in a fool´s time,
only the sea and me and the shore is far away.
Categories:
refinery, adventure, depression, education, introspection,
Form:
Ode
Written July 31, 2012
Here she comes
Walking down the road
To a machine gun refinery
Where she just won't know
Where she's going
Down the path of pestilence
Or on the wings of resilience
"Lord I just don't know
Where I'm going"
Knocking on the door
Shoot to thrill screams
More more more
And she just don't know
If she can take it anymore
Should she keep knocking on the door
Or should she lay down her sword
"Lord I just don't know
Where I'm going"
When the sun rises tomorrow
I'll be drowning in my sorrow
Yet again I've killed a man
Defenselessly at that
Born and buried in a sea
That just becomes our memories
That we will never get to see
Because of our selfishness
Watch me closing in on death
Violins
Playing in my mind
Relentlessly at that
I guess it's my turn at bat
To finally see what I am
What I've become is not a man
Oh violins
Take me away
I'm a monster anyways
Categories:
refinery, abuse, emotions, girlfriend, metaphor,
Form:
Lyric
Poor in manners and stained in character
Empty is the ego, displaying this mess
Raw body language, no matter how meaty
Verifies a desperate mind in need of a refinery
Even if one can pay the bills of New York
Rejection will still be encountered from the right persons
Sexuality well expressed is beautiful
In as much as consent, time and space are respected
Only a people of same class mingle, so therefore
Never take this filth along if high up the chain is targeted.
Categories:
refinery, character, corruption, silly,
Form:
Acrostic
(St Valentine’s day 1992)
Most Valentine poems are about love
and rightly so,
but this is a true story and needed to be told.
Somebody lost someone today.
His mangled body on the
refinery grounds did lie.
They were working on him
Them! That win most, but
alas, they lost this one.
I use to see him every
morning, pedaling his cycle on the
dark and misty corridors
of Roscommon road, habitual
instincts homing in towards
the works chimney.
Yes somebody lost someone
today, the staidly traffic
lights just carried on,
wayfaring curiosity soon
gone, life just keeps on and
on, till tomorrow. Then!
Somebody lost someone today.
© Harry J Horsman 1992
Categories:
refinery, death, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Tempting balm tonics reposed fantasist,
Panacea liquifies mirage views,
Crafts allusive lofts energies persist,
Twain heart's favor lips a desire to schmooze.
Elixir defines the gist of lovers,
Exposes the length of listed measures,
Hearts and souls, supernatural pleasures,
Cascade gifted juice as meant lips puckers.
Charts a course of innumerable sips,
Bottled refinery impatient lips,
Passion extremes supple to its excess,
Forward sweethearts immortal kiss access.
Tinctured herbs ripen souls remarkably,
Drink-filled lovers strengthen eternally.
2019 October 15
Rhyme scheme; abab, cddc, eeff, gg
howmanysyllables;
14 lines x 10 syllables per = 140 syllables total
Categories:
refinery, deep, desire, fate, magic,
Form:
Sonnet
Captured in twinkling apricot diamonds dappling cosmoses
& ocean's tumultuous roar of foaming cerulean furor,
prolific winds that howl & soar atop empurpled elevations
mid streams that pierce meadows of extravagant greenness,
thunder that splits the skies, nourishing the promise of an
exalted burnt umber earth spinning in tempestuous regnant
surrendering wildflowers wherefrom mysteries shade the trees,
magenta and sapphire sunsets 'tween horizon's resplendence
arousing aspirations midst procreation's quintessential splendor
whilst countless dispersed particles enhance encompassed secrets,
awakening the senses in nature's awe-inspiring scenic refinery
Categories:
refinery, appreciation, earth, mountains, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
This is a story from the history pages
Where diamonds were found
In the Kimberly hole
And when its wealth was extolled
To Johannesburg next the road would lead
To the fields of gold they next would seek
On Witwatersrand main reef
And when the seam was mined and spent
To Rustenburg the miners went
For platinum to sink drilling shaft's
South Africa's history belies its earth
Where empires came to mine for wealth
Now all that stand are plots of land
Are rusty head gear and mining dumps
Gone are the conveyor belts
And refinery smoke
And the mining folk
Where hard hats with torch attached
Shone upon the fossil rock
Now what replaced the mining rush
Is Johannesburg's now a bed of crime
And Kimberly is now a 1 horse town
If truth be told
All that glistened isn't gold
And diamonds aren't forever
When the mining stops
And nothing is left
Categories:
refinery, lost,
Form:
Free verse
Licking flames
Rage...
Heat penetrates,
Ashes smolder...
Purified stone
Emerges.
Categories:
refinery, fire,
Form:
Free verse
A glib giant of the river borders
The discerning ears of the ancient Power, we mourn
Where caravans cascade to unseen voices
And the rumbling of avalanche bullets invades our peace
This mind captured it with a piercing eye
From river “Nun”
ere wasting wore garbs of gloom
this savage brandishing of the source of livelihood
Wiwa's blood spills, as the Khaki boys obeyed their paymaster
Profligate bands in union vexed by demons hunt sane men "like partridges"
With arms, murderous Pirates just for greed offers bullets as our prize
Subdued our river for gain never known.
Ruined face-stretching pains like coverless carpet
A reservoir of floods tumbles through the eye gates,
Our rich resources ploughed by strangers,
Where is Royal Dutch Shell? or Schlumberger, where is Chevron, Total
when we are hungry,
when we die, of pollution,
where is Petrobras, Equinor or Agip
when we mourn the damage on our offspring
we are silenced by the tyrants in Aso.
Insipid insanity of blood brothers ignored safety
Our tyrants cared for the gains
and for gains, Wiwa was murdered,
And a Massacre in Odi
Kill them all, says the goggled tyrant,
Take the gains to Zurich, I will spend it tomorrow,
but like Mobutu, he never lived to count the cash
For their greed, we die.
As these Lords watch the drama, smiling at our folly
From the coast of ivory, where children groan in pain for jewels
to war-ravaged Sudan, famished by the same burden
and like Esau, we trade the future for ephemeral
And obliterating while reenacting the trade of yore
unending wars for greed, a blinding greed
Who will save these captives from the taskmasters?
Cocoa harvested in Ghana, Indonesia et al, yet not a chocolate plant
but this coffee is not from Ghana,
the Chocolate bar is sent back at the dollar price
Nigeria is rich with crude
Yet they meander around a refinery from far off climes
Congo is ravaged in war, who supplies the arm?
Oh! for a taste of Freedom
Categories:
refinery, analogy, anger, character, chocolate,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Initially we florish and feel comfortable.
We till the ground and it yield much flowers and fruits for food and finance.
We export and feed other nations with our goods.
Despite our great population,
We never lack for once
We were named after our effects on sister nations:THE GIANT OF AFRICA
Suddenly, we move to kakistocracy
They sat at dire controls and play indolently Slowly downward in remote we abuse our land We have no more regard for our source of Opulence
We distroy the fertility in our soil
We divert to refining system
We're told, the source is fine
Figure massively hewn in hardwood
Voracious Head leader set upon it and misrule us
We vandalize our wealth
From the out of refinery,
our farm land has kicked up a fuss against us Won't petroleum dried up oneday?
And we still yearn to become the greatest state After which we have been attacked by jumbo spirit of recession
The melt-down of our Economic is of great length.
The great nation now totter like a kid with spindly leg which falls
When the going gets bad,
What is the way out?
We have traded in vain in the beach of insanity. We die of hunger and suffer.
All we have to do is to retreat back to our yester-Source
Let's sacrifice and appeal the angry farm land For the soil bring forth thorns and thistles
instead of good fruits
Let's make a lull propitation to the dissapointed gods of the soil.
In order to reverse the curse placed on our farm land
So as to bring abundant food for our livelihood.
Categories:
refinery, africa, betrayal, corruption,
Form:
Rhyme
Initially we florish and feel comfortable.
We till the ground and it yield much flowers and fruits for food and finance.
We export and feed other nations with our goods.
Despite our great population,
We never lack for once
We were named after our effects on sister nations:THE GIANT OF AFRICA
Suddenly, we move to kakistocracy
They sat at dire controls and play indolently Slowly downward in remote we abuse our land We have no more regard for our source of Opulence
We distroy the fertility in our soil
We divert to refining system
We're told, the source is fine
Figure massively hewn in hardwood
Voracious Head leader set upon it and misrule us
We vandalize our wealth
From the out of refinery,
our farm land has kicked up a fuss against us Won't petroleum dried up oneday?
And we still yearn to become the greatest state After which we have been attacked by jumbo spirit of recession
The melt-down of our Economic is of great length.
The great nation now totter like a kid with spindly leg which falls
When the going gets bad,
What is the way out?
We have traded in vain in the beach of insanity. We die of hunger and suffer.
All we have to do is to retreat back to our yester-Source
Let's sacrifice and appeal the angry farm land For the soil bring forth thorns and thistles
instead of good fruits
Let's make a lull propitation to the dissapointed gods of the soil.
In order to reverse the curse placed on our farm land
So as to bring abundant food for our livelihood.
Categories:
refinery, africa, betrayal, corruption,
Form:
Rhyme