Coal Poems - Poems about Coal

Through the rain that sings melancholic melodies, coal clouds weave their dark dreams, I pray to reach a realm where eagles lift the skies with wings of gold, to free myself from the shadows of preachers who spread dogmas in the night, to rise above the Himalayan cliffs, covered by eternal snows, far from the soul thieves who prey...

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We are going to do a flash mob dance Comet told the crew. I have a choreographer trained reindeer to help, her name is Bonnie Sue. Vixen and Blitzen were miffed, because it was not their idea at all. Dasher and Rudolph did not hear, they were watching snow fall. Bonnie Sue came in and kept all the reindeers...

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I'm heading home for Christmas (Snows on the way) In a plane, then a cab and a sleigh Bringing presents and prizes I've made Giddy yup horsey! I musn't be late Of God we are saints, of myth this Nick This mystical and elusive controtionist Over rooftops, down chimneys without a slip Hanging stockings and mistletoe For an occasional kiss Stretch and yawn and wiping...

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Little black books- blooming everywhere. from shining sea islands, to Belair mansions to white house lattice and cathedral bastions Little black books-Bloom-blooming-everywhere. A few pawns are pared/ but the bishops and kings are always spared. Little black books... blooming- blooming everywhere. Little black books with coal dusted secrets Magically disappear. ...

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From The Coal Mine … Liars … early prophets of impending doom (The New Room: February, 2024) The Moment Shared We often forget wrapped up in our own drama — that everyone feels the same (Dreamsleep: February, 2024) Circle Game The purpose of war is peace The guarantor of peace — is war (Dreamsleep: February, 2024) Crucibles Moss hides the message Whose altar ascends In joy’s adulation The pilgrimage — ends (1st Book Of Prayers: February, 2024) I Bequeath...

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She wandered like a gypsy to Wyoming, Where she settled in and sojourned for a spell. She found herself a billet at the Hog Ranch, And son, there weren’t no high-tone clientele. It was just a soiled dove’s privy crib Where Martha Jane set up her chicken coop. She was a cowhand’s heartthrob, All buckskin and sutler whiskey. She could drive a team...

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About the end of times when Carts were hauled by Shires, Coal was king and homes Were heated by open fires, A seemingly huge dark figure From my early childhood days As he drove his horse and cart Through the country byways From village to village to village Delivering sacks of coal To feed our coal fires, then Each home’s heart and soul. One hundredweight of...

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black coal soft not rough rigid but coal soft not a stocking filled with coal but a fluffy cat coal soft With a rough ridged motor...

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The coal miner descends into the mine much like his father and his father’s father it’s his way of life. Into the mine much like the others, he goes into darkness it’s his way of life as they carve into mountains. With the others he goes into darkness far below a world of light and they carve into mountains as he finds veins of coal. Far below...

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Although it matters not anywhere else my heart crushes for what it knows better to have... I am overreacting and incapable of concluding the ordeal inside myself... I know how vain and futile such an allowance of mind into obsession is... Indeed a desperate man void of inspiration leaches on any hope... This inspires the fire within... Long a go...

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Alienated by my past, because of my past Carrying dark secrets across every bridge I hide them under rocks And I bury them in the dirt With this bag of coal strapped to my back While I trek and climb the mountain On this journey, its all I know My soul absorbs the baggage And there it is... but I don’t see it Neither...

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Dark coal mouser’s prowl in blue moon haunt, spooky screech poor thing sees a ghost Posted : April 5th 2022...

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Wait for the shutters to be closed, we will enter an enclosure in complete silence, like a deep cave which I don't know the way. My eyes will ignore all of the lights; there will be no more words just the presence of your body and your breath. I will choose a landscape with anthracite clouds, a plain stripped of its green mountains; I will ,then ,bend...

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Turner's artistic gift is sought to a working-class dream sequence. His visual poetry beats the factory revolt's time and place. In a stunning display of moonshine, which erupts through the sky. At the right, Keelmen, flat-bottom keels hauling coal along the Quay 1st Place Contest Winner Written: February 3rd, 2022 http://www.nga.gov/content/ngaweb/Collection/art-object-pag… Enter the 'A STRAND (1066)' Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Brian Strand...

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When skin was smooth and wrinkles few the doors all opened up for you And though your heart was black as coal ...

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