Long Coal Poems
Long Coal Poems. Below are the most popular long Coal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Coal poems by poem length and keyword.
With flowing words the poet writes
words that beckon my heart away
and as my imagination takes flight,
my soul, it swells and sways.
To the poet I give praise.
The words they've written are for me.
They reach my very soul.
Meant to set my spirit free,
it's the poetry's true goal,
making diamonds out of coal.
Awed, inspired and amazed
at the wonders that I've read.
Into their crystal ball I gazed
while through their lines I'm led.
Their imagery fills my head.
Poetry is a form of art
expressed by the written word,
touching both mind and heart
like the sweet song of a bird
with an enchanting melody heard.
I see, I feel, I taste it all.
I absorb it into my being.
It's power opens up the wall
and gives the gift of seeing.
True poetry is freeing.
Yes, I love beer
And beer loves me,
We’re as thick as thieves
As honey is to bees.
I can’t help but wonder
What life would be
Without this golden amber,
Not a world I’d like to see.
Every sip a luscious joy,
Food for body, mind and soul,
It warms in winter, cools when hot,
As water is to ice, as fire adores its coal.
But now they claim it hampered,
My judgement in my youth,
A baseless common slander,
Insulting and uncouth.
A lifetime spent in service,
As a bastion of the law,
A judge regaled with honor,
Not just a man of straw.
So what I had a tipple
And sometimes a few more,
It livened up the party,
With a drink I so adore.
As to these accusations
That somehow I blacked out
I just can’t help but wonder,
How folks could not this doubt.
A father and a husband,
A friend to countless girls,
A man of faith and principle,
Tarnished by innuendo’s swirls.
So let this be a lesson
To all young pups today,
Consider each and every action,
Beware of what posterity may say.
#MIDNIGHT AND ME
I had a Dog named Midnight...he was every bit my Sunlight! At nine years old, I was told he died from a Hit & Run Car Tragedy. The Devastation made me fall to my knees!
He was Beautiful and Shiny and so filled with LIFE...the impact he felt, brought me the same when I knelt; I will never Forget that Heart-Wrenching BLOW...Unbearably Painful, I thought I'd EXPLODE
.
People think when you're nine, "all will be fine" but that was my first bout with Grief*...there's no replacement, nor remedy or Relief!
Yet, one thing's for sure and here's what I KNOW...I wish my past to be a testament TOLD...
My Childhood FIRST Pet: A TREASURE* I CAN NEVER FORGET...He brought my Life JOY, JUBILATION and GLEE!
Midnight lives in my Memory...COAL BLACK COAT(SHIMMERY) This DOG Put A GLEAM In My EYES*
I at Nine Years Old...I'll Never Forget What HE Brought To My LIFE!
©Renee Denise Gross 11/16/2017#
Long blue-black, straight hair.
The color of a raven so rare.
Cheek bones chiseled with grace.
A tan Native American face.
Hair, braided with a ritual feather.
Clothed in a loin cloth made of leather.
Tribal war paint decorated his cheeks,
Seeing a Native God made my knees weak.
They honor and worship our Earth,
Paying tribute to all that is birthed.
Never taking, without giving something back.
This is what most cultures, but them seem to lack.
If I ever had the chance to pick a perfect mate,
A Native American Indian would be my fate.
I would treasure him forever, body and soul.
With his perfect face and eyes the color of coal.
Today a youth of the world stood up,
Stood up against fat money cats,
And stared them down with words made of real,
Accountable ecological facts,
About how the fat future of money is ending,
A future without any trees,
How mass extinction is occurring today,
With cash from the coal power disease,
And she stood alone, shaking against hate,
Forcing fu***rs like Trump to run,
Back to his hordes of redneck support,
Of religious who think he’s “The One”,
Today a small girl, who hates crowds of people,
Stood alone and said what she said,
Demanding we all stand and give back her hope,
And I stood because she is our friend.
Riverboat on the Mississippi
Folks dining on scrimp, grits, and cornbread
Drinking booze and gambling like crazy
Going to Bourbon Street just ahead
Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans
The big paddle wheel keeps on rolling
Down to the Cajun Queen of the Gulf
Where the real money is unfolding
And a thousand green bucks is small stuff
Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans
The big paddle wheel keeps on churning
Black coal keeps that steam boiler humming
Noxious fumes from the smokestack blowing
Nightlife on Bourbon Street is jumping
Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans
Cathedral spires standing very tall
Off Canal, near downtown Bourbon Street
Near a hotel by a shopping mall
Where folk are getting some daytime sleep
Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans
They wait for night, ‘til just after dark,
To find the places of blues, jazz, and rap
A swamp of raunchy acts, joints, and bars
Folk can get caught like mice in a trap
Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans
Over and over I was beaten and battered
And my idea of a perfect home life shattered
But I was one of the lucky ones let there be no doubt
Because I was one of the few who made it out
I could have died at the hands of my mother
But not just me also my sister and brother
So I'll take a tough stance with no apologies
Because we're still alive with no eulogies
Sometimes true evil is a devil in a dress
And children are the ones in distress
In foster care I used to hear the stories
From the sad and suffering it was so gory
A tale I never truly wanted to tell
But if I have to I'll scream it from the gates of hell
If you stand with a demon it taints your soul
Turning it from white to black as coal
Sadly experiences like mine are common tales
And all over the world children suffer when society fails
Blessed by angels I broke the shackles to be free
And grew up in a loving home allowed to be me
Look into my eyes
And tell me when I'm saying lies
We were just three souls
Thankfully saved from a heart of coal
IF I HAD A WHITE BEARD
(tune: If I Were a Rich Man)
If I had a white beard
Ho ho rudolph ho ho blitzen ho ho merry christmas hum
All year long, I’d merry christmas hum
If I had a fluffy beard (haa!)
I wouldn’t have to diet.
Ho ho rudolph ho ho blitzen ho ho merry christmas hum
If I had a fluffy fluffy white jingle-jangle-jingle-jangle beard
I’d gift the kids, each year with toys by the millions
Built by big hearted elves up North
They work long days with hot cocoa drinks in hand
There would be one sleigh jingle just going up
And one sleigh jangle coming down
And one more jingle jangle down the hole
For some the coal is gift as chimney smoke clears my boots
Then the reindeer makes a sound
Honking just as merrily as they can
And each shake of the ho, be it show, be it clang, be it off
Would sound like a jingle of the bells
As if to say, “Here lives a fluffy beard”
If I had a white beard
Ho ho rudolph ho ho blitzen ho ho merry christmas hum
All year long, I’d merry christmas hum
If I had a fluffy beard (haa!)
I wouldn’t have to diet.
Ho ho rudolph ho ho blitzen ho ho merry christmas hum
If I had a fluffy fluffy white jingle-jangle-jingle-jangle beard
12/1/2021
Written just for fun!!
I should have done things differently,
cashed in those simple phrases for sophisticated ones
should have feigned more class, not been so sarcastic...
Maybe that coal crush could have turned into a diamond
but instead, it turned to black dust.
but I would have had to crawl
far away from the self to make us last,
far outside my conch shell
the gulls would have pecked me to death.
After all... you were in a higher class...
your stiletto eyes always reminded me of that...tap-tap
but that was many years ago
you've since passed
you must have crawled too far outside yourself
the karma gulls moved in and pecked you to death.
Country Sweet Soul
By Curtis Lee Johnson
Began in a country town right next to a corn mill
Raised in the Mississippi delta near the cotton field
Born in a four room house made of concrete blocks
Grew up on a large plantation next door to a tractor shop
Worked hard in the fields all day, tending the cotton crops Dirt cheap labor, five and a half days a week, unless the rains said stop
Always clothed with plenty to eat, but no AC or central heat
My home town had cars, tractors, and trucks, but no stop lights
A place where everybody knew what was wrong and what was right
But not perfect, because occasionally some got drunk and wanted to fight
It was hot under the southern sun, but we had some fun
Dixie summer days felt like ovens, and nights were toasty too
In Winter seasons, mama always gave us medicine to fight off the flu
We always had heat from gas, wood, and coal
Winters were cold, especially as the nights grew old
Daddy worked hard, and mama had the sweetest of souls
When cotton fields turned white, everything was right
We were certainly poor, but nothing we couldn't endure
Mama made all the difference when the days were doubtful
And we forgot about yesterday, because tomorrow was assured
Cj08062015