Best Smelting Poems


Molten Or Metallic Marvels

I really truly don't know 
why
some things under the 
sun and sky
attract and catch my 
fancy

Quite queerly they 
happen to be
hot melting smelting 
solids
that melt into exquisite 
liquids.

Take for instance heated 
liquid gold
molten glass or molten 
brass
and to watch magma 
'neath the earth's fold
Ooh I love just about any 
melting mass.

With similar bizarre 
ecstasy and fascination
do I always watch 
onscreen molten lava
Gliding in serpentine 
turns, oblivious of my 
admiration
Ah, I just love all that 
golden molten mass

Sometimes I even have 
such an eccentric craving
to watch just any solid 
beauty melting smelting
that I satisfy this craving 
by simply imagining
the honey to be some 
liquid fire gold
in a crystal clear jar and 
liken it to
a metallic gold syrup in 
the furnace burning
As if it were stagnant 
mini-lava
right before me glowing! 

As for other mesmeric 
things
that I find real eye-
catching
are those which 
everybody else finds 
ravishing.
And they are in all shine
dazzling diamond dust
Magical celestial stardust
Glittery terrestrial gold 
dust
in mankind's metallic 
materialistic lust.! 
But I, I am allergic to 
dust!:) ;)

The Silliness

Homey eyes of peasant stew
A cozy-colored mossy mew
Stony cottage, snowcheeks bleu
The forest fins for frosted fruits.

The warmest thought speaks crumbly bread
A partridge purr puffs through my head
That grants the grunkest grue a ‘Get!’
To packrat out the paquerettes.

Don’t see the speech I say with sneer
As something to be had with beer
Don’t bucker bricks of buttered bleers
And sift strunk talk through quandarous weirs.

The clothes and shelter of your mouth
Has cleaned my frame as cold as south
For queeks are quay, oh when you quoth
And yokel twirls are yaws of youth.

Clearings clean, as cream is crisp
With cluffs of clementine in risp
The grout of your cuts, freed of lisps
Your watch turns wandering whelks to whisps.

Sweet as sneezes from a lamb
As cozy as a Christmas ham
To jaunt with you with bread and jam
Is all I am, is all I am…

A blanket for the rawest nerve
A babe beyond the laws of earth
A smile sways the swooping surf
And gifts sweet goods of grinning girths.

Your hair? An electric guitar!
With sprinkles of suburban stars
Might smell of smelting lemon bars
Each strand a sacred seminar.

That hark the realms of Everfar!
And halt the helms of Neverare!
That licks the lich that leavens scars!
Screams “Non septimo, sempris quar!”

I believe you’re Good, I mean you’re blessed
With holy elks that guard your breast
Whose rumps remain on royal chests
And watch for wendigos out West.

A soul of Greyhound bus views darkly
Hushed in cornfields crumps so starkly
With windmills waning wicks so barky
Olive Garden oligarchies.

Clearings clean, as cream is crisp
With cluffs of clementine in risp
The grout of your cuts, freed of lisps
Your watch turns wandering whelks to whisps.

Sweet as sneezes from a lamb
As cozy as a Christmas ham
To jaunt and jibe with you with bread and jam,
Is all I am, is all I am.
© Thump Drag  Create an image from this poem.

I'Ll Never Be a Cool Black Guy

I don't have bling
I don't rap, play blues or sing
I'll never be a cool black guy
My strut is weak
My cred roams far yonder
Miles away from the street
I'll never be a cool black guy
The booty I shake
The moves that I make
Won't qualify for Soul Train's sake
I'll never be a cool black guy
The name my mother assigned
Won't force Grandmaster Flash to resign
I'll never be a cool black guy
The vocal lords which gospel brings
Cannot pervade thy angel's wings
I'll never be a cool black guy
Cruising slow at sunset
Love, joy, exaltation
Politely asked to pull over
Algorithms bleed into
Indignant subjugation
I'll never be a cool black guy
When a simple arrest
Leads to civil unrest
Then comes the ripple, tsunami
Of economic infest
I'll never be a cool black guy
My options broken, then severed
Left to dangle without a net
The asphalt calls
No qualms or regret
I'll never be a cool black guy
And one leads to two
And two leads to ten
History's palindrome nightmare
To invoke and offend
Why can't our same bag of bones
Simply care, soar, befriend
I'll never be a cool black guy
That diploma on the wall
Smelting books, with brains and gall
Will humanity's insanities
Finally yield beauty
Leading us to stand for all
I'll never be a cool black guy.

(5/22/17)


A Frozen Star

Frozen in time like a snow flake floating forever
Your deep blue eyes pale skin lifeless shiver
Fallen with cold fever from the top of her chain reaction
Arid beauty smelting like snow from the imagination 

A chaotic system surrounds her disorder
Your orbit is a morbid black hole upset to devour
My fascination with your cool demeanour is a fatal attraction 
Your gravitation commands me like the Ice Queen 

If I crash into you too fast, I might lose you forever
With every approach, your atmosphere freezes my very core
So close to you I can hear you breath, I can see the red in your veins
The friction with your gravitation, creates body heat like a furnace

We burn with passion into a nuclear reaction
And light up the universe into a new version, a new dimension
We’re tied together into a new binary star system  
Our lives start anew at the beginning of time

Breathe

Breathe for all that you choose to cease
taking gentle steps gliding across the mantles of degrees
created potion mixed in the motion, administered vial of bewitching 
unwithheld acrobatics performed, in the grind of ores desired smelting

A royal scene to which there is pleasure upon measurement 
to be kept locked away, a buried treasure added settlement
released only to follow, a raging bull galloping
entering forces of which forces are handling

Capturing the deeps stare, look in her eyes
keep your Solitude don't you dare reply
sailing across a sea of greed, to n' fro windward
captivating scenes, effectuate depths within molds inward


When night claims you like a wayward leaf of old 
and lays you in her caves, all drenched with gold 
don't ask her any questions and you don't dare stare breathe 
You just follow her as her prisoner, til which she is pleased

Premium Member When Savages Sang Strongly 2

Destiny demands that we be the debtor 
that we sacrafice for the skin of our future,
We left the cradle of the Caucasuses to explore,
to plant the dreams of our Creator,
venturing into the virgin chaos
where the tiger tears apart the trespasser
We made the way, we made love with our Cause,
following the highway of the emerald pasture
from the Euxine to the shimmer of the Yellow Sea
finding war and wealth in the weight of adventure
subduing savages with frightening ferocity 
managing frontiers with a proud mercy,
leaving behind our blood's legacy
trading safety for salt, vanity for victory,

Trading safety for salt, vanity for victory
coming home to the Black Sea
introducing steel smelting and a taste for head hunting,
scalping Cimmerians with glee
assailing the Assyrians 
extorting Egyptians 
respected by Hellenes
dominating Asiatic Indians
cabletowing Celts
and pouncing on Persians,
Phoenicians filled their boats 
with exotic Scythian goods,
We were collectors of civilised throats,
our empire needs no roads

Our empire needs no roads,
Saka, Sauromatae, Massagatae, Tocharians, Scythians
We are One, ancient craftsmen and warlords,
our women were the Amazons
Cauterized breast and soldier slayers
Tomyris taught Cyrus
that bloodbaths belong to the losers,
the Scythian wilderness of war jeered Darius,
Zopyrion was made carrion 
Alexander wisely just carried on,
to the Romans we were Sarmatian and Hun
Scythes being ancestors to the Gothic Confederation,
a culture canvassing the breadth of all civilization
migrating ever westward into the echo of the sun,

Migrating ever westward into the echo of the sun
bringing our wagons, warcraft, and women
custom of the blood oath quietly open
the wine, and honest blood spun
the two of us swearing in between a lifelong stare
will you be there
when I'm scared,
will you care
when death is there,
will you wait for me
when the war barks near,
will you honor me
when the fire becomes just a whisper,
our oath is our soul keeping

J.A.B.  2020


What Will Happen When I'M Gone?

What will happen when I'm gone?
will the world remember me?
will the people notice
the absence? When the 
professor calls roll, and
makes those tic-marks 
of authority, my name
will not feel its painful 
slice, will it be
noticed, will anyone care?

The room will be empty
empty as a bench 
seated alone, the sound
of the waves come in 
go out
the bench is
cold, the warmth of 
familiar flesh no longer
the substance, the embrace 
never felt, never again 
the last true love was
the crafting, the furnishing 
the shaping, molding into 
a new creation. It was 
art, originated from the 
lone tree upon the grassy knoll.
Cut, severed, the umbilical 
cord, the only real connection 
we ever have, the only true
reality. So quickly does it 
end, no mystery as to 
why 
       we
            scream 
 yell out, till the vocal cords 
hammer together the blacksmith 
smelting the iron against
sensitive flesh 
the paper is gathered from 
the dead oak-tree the one 
upon the knoll, and then
glued and bound 
made into a new creation 
Ink, the blood of the intellect 
smeared and forced into 
form, making it all a 
new form. These volumes 
fill my many shelves 
my constant addiction 
what will happen to 
them with I'm gone?
When I join the 
literary dead, the paged 
crypt. When I finally 
descend from the madness 
of life, and submerge 
into the collective 
dead circus of the 
mysterious afterlife 
the ultimate riddle and
connection of the unknown.

Will anyone notice? Does 
anyone truly notice
them? When I no longer 
live in this reality, will
those I know come inside 
and read the books, read 
my own works, read 
this poem?

Or shall I be the lone
tree upon the knoll 
the bench at the beach 
never to be cut, never to be 
warmed
Left in the Mother's Womb 
to be aborted or decayed 

perhaps I should have been 
spared myself and the 
world so much...

At the end of days 
many questions will be asked 
will anyone care?
What will happen when I'm gone?

Shakespeares All of You

Surfing, morphing
Through amorous tidal waves
Thou Babylonian scoundrels
Poisoned, ordained
By the blues-begging rasps
Smelting Earth
Caching together as one
By force and virtue
Yielding life's battalions
Seeking solace, fame or gentle ears
What captures me most
About this glazed nuthouse
Riffs and thieves
Throwing down as NYC
The brackish drama
The ink-still-wet climax
Each protagonist
Twitching, bleeding
Their calligraphy carved from
Medieval, spiteful bent
Their tragedies, comedies
Levitating into series finales
Bubbling, screaming
The concrete-clicking pounce 
Propelled by the fear of instant death
Each a Willie
Scribes scratching, staggering
Desperate for terminal legacy
Actors drowning, emitting spasms
Powered by flames and sunshine
You don't get here by mistake
Unless leaving is the answer
The acts, verses and curses
Vary by the levels of lunacy
You're willing to consume
So bark and hark
Who goes there
The parade inside you looms
As the audience
Hush, attentive, sardonic
Mouths gaping
Tongues wagging
To taste your wasted drop.

(10/13/16)

Matricide of Mother Nature

Hair ablaze like logs in a forest fire
The flames engulfed her like a human torch
The air behind her became mystified
Choking, yelling for her to yield
She was stunned by our ill content
Her punishment immediate 

She was mother nature
She cried hailstones of rage and rapture
She didn't burn, but we did
She didn't scream in anguish, we did
And flooded our overcrowded streets
Her sobs gusting hurricane winds

She was a woman scorned
Unleashing her peril on those she'd disowned
We ran barefoot across our broken hourglass
Tripping over the plastic bags and soda cans
We drowned in the ensuing tsunami
In the full wrath of her fury

We missed the now fading flares in her eyes
The nausea of her tornado and the fever in her smelting ice
The warning flags she waved so high in the ozone
The rumbling in her heavy stride in Yellowstone
She was dying
And we were still denying

Premium Member The Smelting Pot

This desertscape dotted with feathers.
What need?  I haven’t a need
for umbilical utensils utterly useless 
on a Sanskrit road
long as the maiden’s Genghis apron
white as white gypsum in Alamogordo, 
New Mexico.  
Here you find blossoming curry spattered across 
an ancient horizon 
lulled by the dunes rattling the baritone basin,
and in America, in this most united of 
Apache - Comanche - Navajo 
estates, we gather nations through nuclear 
hinges obtusely obliterated at White Sands National.

An Average Schlepper

This fool doth not consider himself wise,
writing paltry poetry difficult
to read and/or actualize
methinks perusers of great literature
snub nose how I miserably advertise,

laughable attempt to aerobicise
fifty plus shades of gray matter
lobbying showy words agonize
zing effort perhaps best to cauterize
near petrified glob - boon

for scientists to analyze
baffling laboratory technicians
unusual crenulations
a profound surprise
pitiful peremptorily doth apologize

unlike verbalization feasible
after webbed whirled fist size
terra incognita reveals numbskull years
wrought yours truly to anesthetize
smelting, squelching,

and suppressing emotions
scored how tree rings annualize
environmental conditions definite
premature imp of the pervert
poe fella lifetime channels,

where bullies did antagonize
upon death requested autopsy authorize
zing eager scalpels to apprize
miniature dried river bed
formerly streams of consciousness

lake never seen before engendering
crowdsource to hypothesize
baffling every expert,
how terrible fate did baptize
ala lemony snicket series

of unfortunate events
multiplied power bajillion times
number only Google could surmise
obvious tell tale signs did brutalize
as if smacked upside the head

one unfortunate gladly apparently
suffered maelstroms of armageddon size
poet chars evidently 
succeeded to burglarize
more successful than Watergate

psychological ploys hackers
noninvasively did cannibalize
(perhaps bored furloughed 
government employees)
albeit noninvasively deeming

imposible to canonize
resultant cerebral corpus
understandably did capsize
entire body politik (Democrat) 
faced, booked on hatred did demonize

verbal assaults indicate 
suffering did caramelize
cerebrum, cerebellum and brainstem
resembling burnt offering 
impossible to categorize

glommed hardened integument colleagues
hard pressed to characterize
highly rendered anomaly,
hence unfair to criticize
erratic schizoid personality disorder

quite evident amyloid plaques 
did significantly crystalize
definitely explain aberrant quirks
resultant incessant emasculation 
unquestionably led him to demoralize.

In My Present Absence

In my present absence
I’m trying to remember where I misplaced the key
To unlock the door to my own existence

I rise with the smelting icecaps
Only to come crashing down with the rising levels of pollution
So I’m stuck in my red thinking cap 

Things that make my radiator boil! 
We’re driving to the end of the world, faster and faster?
With all that exhausts this oil

And you thrive on cancer...
You’re what you eat, what you smoke and as for the drink,
I won’t interfere with your larger

Am I just a filter...?
Of ignorance and misinformation...a consumer of advertisements?
Then only fit for litter

So there’s no avoiding this junk
It’s in the air, the water and every street pole we pass
And I’m just an ignorant punk

I was relaxing in the park
And I witnessed hands exchange contraband on the merry-go-round
Our own children doing something so dark 

For all my jogging I breathe in lead
Poisoning my suburban home - now part of the inner city decay, how?
‘cause that’s the BS I’m fed


01-08-2015
Thabang Jan Ngoma

Sponsor: Roy Jerden
Contest Name: Everyone Poops

Beneath the Smiles

Does this divine deliverance delve deep
beneath shackled truths. Hidden behind words
was honesty, expensive deceit so cheap
like an orchid amongst dandelion herds.
Arrogance betrayed behind tears you weep,
snuffed sensibility beguilingly girds.
Friendship accords toasted with tainted drink,
forced to drown in soliloquies ink.

Captured the wisps of fuelled ego retorts,
derisory spouting’s like hammer falls
smelting meaning so it twists and distorts,
locked in the prison of abusive calls
while tittle-tattle tales bolster support,
like temporary struts to stop falling walls,
but cracks are many, so inside we can view
the putrid poison, reality of you.

Waves

Half baked metal, smelting in a dorm
one good eye, the middle of a storm
Loss erupts oozing, from a broken spire
query one’s despair, then tell me you're a liar
sweep sweep sweep its time to start the journey
sleep sleep sleep stretched out on a gurney

Speaking French divine, on the sunny moor of leeds
raining golden coins, on the child as it bleeds
Burnt fried eggs, billow from a basement
frozen rage asleep, deep inside a casement
loss loss loss the present can’t fight history
sail sail sail who will solve the mystery?

Rounded bulldog wails, plants into the grass
landslide soft asleep, fills the yearned morass
forlorn peacock spit, before a nascent preen
broken jagged pane, reflects an ancient scream
gone gone gone karma is a master
dead dead dead streaming this disaster

Canabils and the Antidote

in the year 2098 on the planet Julephia in the Huilinium Galaxy an element called Pubbius was found, generating interest from all points of the galaxy. While mining pubier,(an alloy used to make rods in spaceships) the miners noticed the greenish blue element, and desided to extract it from it's orginal form, while doing so they realized it to be extrodinary, with the fact that it could be soothed and shaped by hand, without smelting and purifying the metallic element. The two used the soft form of the element and shaped it into a stone, it hardened after the miners hands were removed from the element forming a stone, one mining just thinking he was fashioning a copper wire to use to carry the stone found the discovery of a lifetime, the stone bega to glow, and heated the entire cave, and something else, it caused the radio transponder to act like a communication devise," we could her the voices of people, or creatures worlds away, on morning we heard a familiar voice the voice of the merchant ship's captain that had strained them their years before, also these people could hear them, this frightened some members of this abandoned mining planet, as they hadn't seen friendly faces for nearly two years, and they thought that some of these strange voices could be members of the dreded and feared, Mossingal a speicies of creatures who suppressed their desires to allow there bodies to to return to their prehistoric form, savage creatures who are known as maneaters." when we contacted the ship we told them in a code only someone who has had training in Galaxy mining could understand. We contacted the merchant ship DrapetoMagnus
and hoped that our recue would be made. Days later a ship hovered over the Mining home world, we thought we were saved, it was a ship, a Fe@d$rationship, with the outlaw,*ling*ns aboard. we were doomed!

Captain Koncous of the Doomed mission recovery, on the Mining Planet Julipeia."When the treat of Bifers madness set's in paranoid people will do anything to get what they want, they will consort with the likes of Muginba to achieve what they see as acheivments!" quoted the Captain, of this Doomed Mining planet!

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