Ingots Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member AM City Sweep

Genial  gold bullions of first blush town verve,
cobalt blue ingots in sky,
“rain” pavement dweller thrill

Green bus shelter cameos cordial,
sprinkle the air with glad quips,
tween the spilt coffee gulp

billowing cloud of zingy zone babble,
dispersed in hazy gallop,
yet wisps unfeigned  linger

Premium Member Acme


Images surge through April bold, a magical thrill I do behold;
Across the earth a glorious rite, surpassing human delight.
Clouds descend with minty air, their luster beyond compare ;
This tableu...a prelude call, as peaks of my  soul's climb enthrall!

Such grandeur holds out its charms, when crest of nature's glow disarms,
And her pomp explodes on skies that resonate with my sighs...
To bask within this flaming scheme; earth reaches its height, supreme
As ecstasy fills the whorl where mirth and magic unfurl

A canticle rings out so soft as ingots of stars flick,  aloft...
finally the view is set in one fire glow I can't forget; 
sweet the acme of divine core as my exultations soar!

Premium Member A Dazzle of Poetry



pulchritudinous ingots chisel and shades
dazzle and illuminate umpteen reasons

poetry is like a swirling, susurrus-sibilant chimera
of innuendo arty souls, albeit vapid syntax
around serene scenery, orbs, and idealism

Is unction vital to adorn naked words with plumose wings?
whose views of contentment, vim, and happiness?
Inversely hamstringing people with arrows?

sighs of sorrow sound sowed soil
mothers, wailing and yelling out to unborn spirits

as our hearts crave affection
poetry provides its verisimilitude vacuum

do susurrus coruscating suborn scarlet spills?
deep within a stymie pirouette
the tortured sinews of a troubled mind are twisting

my life bill was still due till my final breath
I bequeath you my spirit as expressed in sonnets
I bequeath you my marrow, wrapped in iambic style
I bequeath you my mind, crafted with mispronunciation
sharing with those who owe me a xanthous soul


Premium Member It's a Bling Thing

Ornaments of alabaster

Silver and golden ingots

Ruby, emerald, and diamond rings

Are oh such lovely trinkets

Many maidens they adorn

Behold their lavish luster

See them sparkle in the light

And the envy that they muster

With no mystery we covet

With no price too high to pay

The history of their grandeur

Are still cherished to this day

Life Before the Internet

I recall writing checks in my spidery crawl.
The TV then was a humming spaceship
with glowing innards that deep-scanned 
all who glued their flickering, bug-eyed minds to it;
it abducted whole families at a time.
That same television
materialized microwaves as heavy as lead ingots
replacing bread bins
while ushering in decades of TV dinners.
“Radio Shack’ and “Block Busters’ were thriving
The short brutal war between Betamax and VHS 
was long over.
Cars had not yet learned to speak.
Many men thought that learning to type
would be a waste of their valuable time.
We had to go out to get stuff.
Fish in fish tanks 
were considered adult entertainment.
The long married kept their sex life
hid like a ‘sixteen millimeter’ movie
projected onto the back of their brains.
Camera film had to be sent away
to be often irretrievably lost.
The food pyramid was thought to be 
the right way up – we were already fat-heads.
We trusted the nightly news.
Then the Net captured us,
we found we had many hidden talents,
some even discovered how to wriggle their ears
and both at the same time!

30 Pieces

Raging flashes
time on fire
seconds flaming 
moments pyre

Burning scepters
light betrays
torches fury
embers pray

Blind inception
blistered tongues
motion melting
boiled young

Bars of silver
chains of gold
locks of platinum
ingots stole

30 pieces
forged in lies
minted falsehoods
struck alive

Nights of crimson
skies of red
life has moltened
—ashes dead

(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)


Qaress Genisless

when the diver
with his deluded desire on fire
juxtaposed the diving suit
and found false gold ingots at the bottom of the sea,
he had the vision of Eden obliterated by fire,
because if immersed or submerged as a result of errors,
you find nothing inside or outside of yourself
that is not a simulacrum of what is real,
for in the stationary orbit of irregular thoughts,
the phatic chains collapse
and what was wild about you natural
today is a modern polymer so processed,
to the point that the rattle of these failures
subdues an entire strain of humanism
that we happen to have one day
and our current mix of insanity and obsession
it is just what does not free us from more abysses,
not even if unhappiness depended only on it
or if the risk of succumbing as a gender
no longer exist in us unnecessary.

Their Power To Steal

The charlatans bankrupted
his checking account,
but his love was not overdrawn

Each check that he wrote,
each choice that he made,
trading ingots for righting a wrong

With credit denied
and spirit affirmed,
he continued to endorse what was real

Until bankers and lawyers
destroyed with one stroke,
his wishes—their power to steal

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Premium Member I Am a Very Bad Poet

So I have been told
by a drunk
does he own a pair of shoes?
has he ever walked in another's?
mean and grouchy
unkind to falling leaves
what dreams were stolen
was he the thief or victim robbed?
or does whiskey make him dumb?
and numb
narrow is the hateful mind
who sold his dignity
a silver coin for naught
Scrooge counting compliments like gold ingots
stealing orphans smiles, scotch with spite
the elevator though goes only down
fury and fires and poetic justices
he will burn in hell
listening  forever to the angels voices
reciting for eternity
my
very bad poetry

Unwed

She sent me a lol on wattsapp
Please pass the ketchup

Mothership gliding in silent space
Umbilically us padded in shiny foil
Her face deflected in a fish bowl
Leaves only guessing about her thoughts
Lets dock Lets talk

Little ingots and tiny orbs
Suspended in the fluid of my sight
Just us against the world
Through the crackling and the static noise
Wincing hard to hear her voice

Her words a soggy sandwich
Pleading as my waning battery
But my head  wouldnt dock with my heart
And somehow we became unwed

She was my torment, I was her duty
Her virtue was the softer call
And that became her beauty
Ive become much softer now
But it doesnt work for me at all

A completed work a naughty boy
Indifferent now to watch me fall

Believe

I believe in love
Steel ingots, chains of heart
Never let them break

Premium Member Soul

We live
Rigid and cold
We give
In vile control


We see
What we can get
We free
In sad, lost bets


We cheat
Lie with the truth
We seat
Seek out lost proof


We come
With haughty vice
We sum
Our daze for prize


We steal
Seek out fool's gold
We kneel
Know fatal cold


We call
From folly wise
We fall
In last surprise


We think
We know a lot
We link
Love to ingots


We dance
As puzzle fits
We chance
Die by our wits




Leon Enriquez
30 April 2017
Singapore

Their Power To Steal

Humanity bankrupted 
  his checking account,
  but his love was not overdrawn

Each check that he wrote, 
  each choice that he made,
  trading ingots for righting a wrong

With credit denied, 
  and spirit affirmed,
  he continued to endorse what was real

Until bankers and lawyers 
  destroyed with one stroke,
  his wishes—their power to steal

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

Shall We Retourne

Shall we retourne now to China
Celebrate this coming new year 
To watch fire crackers and dragons
Spring festival season to cheer




Celebrate this coming new year
In fantastic Chinese style
Dance with farmers at temple fairs
Year of the monkey lets go wild




To watch fire crackers and dragons
Would surely be an awesome scene
Hanging red lanterns in the park
In the rich city of Beijing





Spring festival season to cheer
With silver ingots on our plates
Lots of delicious food and fish
And gifts of envelope’s await




© Copyright K.C.Leake
18 November 2015
All Rights Reserved


For The Contest

Premium Member Tangible

What things does one possess
at journey's end?
What bits and bobs? What trivial tripe?
Please, do tell, what is the hype?
For should I recall anything at all
of trinkets obtained in memory's shawl,
it would be the warmth of a companion's smile;
his hand in mine, while on this earth for a while.
The tickle of a tide brushing against tiny toes,
while the whisper in the wind, tells me all she knows.
Should I gaze at gems, pearls, rubies, emeralds--
Forsake the wisdom of the solid for the beauty of the temporal?
Should I throw caution to the wind, like seeds for the birds,
or stick to what I know - the solemnity of the written word.
Of trinkets obtained in memory's shawl,
be there anything at all worthy of my recall?
Happiness, Peace, Love and Joy -
these remained to be my one and only lot.
These intangible things more valuable by far
than gold and silver ingots.
At journey's end I stopped to ponder,
in the cloudless starlit night,
about the heavens and her wonder;
I was struck by sudden insight:
the lightness of the moon
suspended in air,
and the weight of a mere thought
that put it there.

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