Heaters Poems | Examples

a valentine's reprise

Like heaters with thousands of watts
Hot passion burns hearts into knots
Instead of this norm
To find love that’s warm
Form relations with chocolàtes

A honeyed and candied sweet taste
Entwined under lingerie laced
As valentine treat
Is the finest eat
Lucky tongues have ever embraced

the ghost

The Ghost

I tend to wake up at three in the morning
So, I woke up in acold bedroom we can’t afford 
To keep any electric heaters on at night
I sensed I was not alone, the someone was watching me 
I used to be fearful of this none person thought it was someone, perhaps a woman who I had loved and left, but since women had left me
Not the other way around, it must be something else
I decided it was my old dog Bami she was out
Of habit back to see if I was safe 
I spoke softly to her called her darling thanked
Her for the thirteen years we were together 
  At ease now she left I got up walked on an icy floor to the kitchen, drank water and thought
What if the presence was not my dog but 
Something sinister that would let me sleep 
Guiltless in my bed

Different State

The wind has changed
The heat is on
Autumn’s not fallen
Can hear the rush’s song.
 Summer has not faded
Though wind blows cold,
Snow is awaited
Trees with berries bold.
Food for the birds
Before winter falls,
Some trees will be bare
Turning white overall.
Fur coats and flannels
Will soon walk the road
Poor will suffer
In their cold abode.
Some will be warm
By the fire side
Others with heaters
Keeping warm inside.
Difference in time
Difference in state,
As five fingers different
Though part of one gait.

First Day of Winter

You've swallowed our Summer pride
turning the sky line
thick porridge blanket 
The Gas heaters switched on
You swore away the Sun
and emptied our pockets

Winter

As winter is so close 
                 Cold weather becomes a daily song 
                Singing by many people here and there.
               It  is a confusing season  as flu breaking
                            heads of many people.

                          Some  people in the shops 
                          to buy heaters and blankets 
                     and others looking for fire woods
                   In small local bushes and big forests. 
               You will be  suprised to see many mature
              And young pregnant women in rural erears 
          And streets of big towns when spring will come. 

                                        May 31/2023
          By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe 
          Mussabwa Chris

Heater and Hand and Heros--Oh My

A new day began, I sprained my right hand!
Then my furnace decided to "give up the ghost"
Neighbor brought friend who would understand;
soon, room became as warm as toast.
               then it stopped dead--all was lost
               my muse and I were doomed to frost.

Two electric, space heaters running twenty-four/seven!
It was twenty at night--temp's winter hat doff.
My electric bill was reaching toward the heavens
               My muse preferred to scoff
               while my toes were freezing off!

Probably Monday, a new one he could install.
It would cost one THOUSAND--I needed some air!
Opened my door, found my son standing tall!
A guy with tech background, drove here to share.
               I needed a hero, and he was there!
               My muse and I needn't despair.

Aren't sons and daughters a wonderful plan!
They will help with gusto and style.
And hero neighbors lending their helping hand!
Faulty solder fixed; the heat will soon beguile.
               My hand needs a brace for a while;
               and my muse?  I saw a tiny smile.

Southern Night

Sitting at night under the Southern sky
with  Spanish moss dripping over head
my skin sticky with the dampness of heat
And the air glowing silver with the moons secrets,
its easy to fall trance to the nights own lullaby.
To fall in love the legacy of the land thats nurtured me.
To forget the frigidness of winter eves
when we huddled with space heaters and prayed for the ache to stop.
The sun is timeless. 
It soaks into our bones and melts our drive,
It radiates long after from the forest floor giving life
to song of cicadas, this chant of eons celebrating the toils
of all our struggles. 
Reminders in the quiet of night of the infinite cycle of those stars, and our smallness in the scale of them.

Winter Blues

The mistral cold wind blew incessantly wild,
Winding in the streets, its glacial currents in and around
The apartment blocks where all frosted windows
Were tightly secure.  Still the bleak wintry chill entered
From tiny ruptured chinks and spread inside
Annihilating the miserly heat emitted 
By old cranky air conditioners and gas heaters.
Occasional bursts of strong wind blew
Some soft snow up like winnowed chaff.
One hopes the homeless found some place to rest.

Coasters

The type of place you hear about, 
The locals tell you ‘Go check it out.’

The walls trap echos of laughter, 
haunting the outdoor heaters long after;

It could be a break up that leads you there, 
or the desire for a shot or an ice  cold  beer; 

That’s not all that happens when you find it,
conversations become the addictive habit;

Music fuels the vibe at 2 in the morning;
Come last call? You know you’re not leaving;
 
People come together, no longer strangers, 
turn up the rhythm, we are a force of nature; 

A lot like the cars in the parking lot, 
packing standing room only at this spot;

You can’t get this press from a promoter, 
Just one night; you’ll fall hard for Coasters.

Encroaching

Throughout the land, in every home,
Thanksgiving is approaching 
But this time other issues
Sadly seem to be encroaching.

To those outside the bubble
There’ll be faces framed on Zoom
And all will then pretend 
That they’re together in the room.

Some gatherings will be outdoors
With heaters put together
To stave off what is typical
For late November weather.

Unfortunately, many
Will now celebrate alone,
For some, the only solitary 
T-Day they have known.

It’s really just another day -
If that’s the way we view it
Then somehow we can take a breath
And manage to get through it.

What We Lost

Mobiles took from us face talk,
heaters took from us the feeling of fire to the skin,
tabs took from us the love for the rivers and streams,
keyboards took from us the feeling of a pen in hand,
theory took from us praticality
and freedom took from us the embrace of having.

Feelings of Passion

The coolness of my basement makes me hyped
And the warmth of heaters makes me depressed.
The presence of my family makes me stressed,
Yet the remembrance of my semi-lover
Is what makes me foresee 
The ripening of my arousing essence.
I am who I am and our sensational kiss
Was enough to transform everlasting bliss
Into a piece of my gradational adolescence.
Hoping for a kind of future with her.
'Cause now I'm so sure of how I feel,
I want this daydream of me and her 
To become so magically real.

Stuff

It came to me
upon reflection
Life is one
great big collection

Starting with a
teddy bear
and ending with
a gasp of air

The time between
those points is rough
accumulating
all this stuff

Books and knick knacks
line the shelves
and in it all
we lose ourselves

Hand-me-downs
and souvenirs
hoarded all
throughout the years

Cups and saucers,
pots and pans,
electric heaters,
ceiling fans

Pictures, music,
magazines
amounting to
a hill of beans

Clothes and cars,
boats and planes,
nervous breakdowns,
aches and pains

Husbands, wives,
foes and friends
This great collection
never ends

And once our time
on earth goes by,
the years wind down
and then we die

We never seemed
to have enough,
and someone else
gets all our stuff

My Brown Lawn

When God doesn't send rain directly to my brown lawn, the lawn looks to me
Whether he knows it or not, I am one one God's earthly watering instruments
I am one of many of God's creatures employed at the water department
I water all my flowers, some of the grass, and I never forget my plum tree

Water doesn't come cheap, and we have government policies about water
It's a serious matter, and one never sees that liquid gold wasted or misused
Certain hours, I can only water three days a week, and that's the water rule
Being conservative in doing our part is the thing that really matters

My investigation found that the high cost of water is due to delivery systems
One small fee for water with a huge price being paid for installing water meters
Water, not money, can be saved with 2-minute showers from hot water heaters
My roses have color, my tomatoes do okay, but a brown lawn is just 'a given'

09072018PoSoupContest, Enclosed Rhyme, Dear Heart; Three verses, 4 lines each

A Song Not By Paul Mccartney

NO ONE WANTS TO LIVE IN A COLD HOME
from the album "Heaters for Sale"
by Not Paul McCarney 

No one wants to live in a cold home, cold home
Uncle Albert says you should go home, go home
Turn the heat up or sit by the fire
Toasty as upon a funeral pyre
Oo-hoo, because
No one wants to live in a cold home, cold home
No one takes the longest road home, road home
Put your feet up next to the blaze
Toes become candles before your gaze
Ooo-hooo!

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