Long Fuelling Poems
Long Fuelling Poems. Below are the most popular long Fuelling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fuelling poems by poem length and keyword.
Inspired by the songs and lyrics of Bob Marley
Like three little birds people stop to listen.
To hear songs sang of redemption.
Pitched by their door steps reminiscing,
Of a time when no woman would cry
And like a natural mystic their
Tears would fly,to a place where
The colour of a mans skin
Or the religion he believes in
Holds no more significance
Then the colour of his eyes
A place where everyone
Could be loved then be loved.
But we live in a world where politicians.
Stir up hatred by fuelling religious tensions,
Crushing the satisfied souls of generations,
by dropping bombs to silence, songs sang of freedom.
Which reignites, WAR, on already WAR torn nations.
yeah dis a WAR,
With every new day brings more WAR
Yeah everywhere is WAR,
Yeah me say WAR.
(Alternative Earth series)
Come and talk to me softly as you sit by my side
on the big metal bird getting ready for our ride.
The engineer has taken a key from a big brass ring
and he’s taking up the tension in the sleeping spring.
The wings have started flapping, gently beating at the air
and the driver’s pulling levers from his big driving chair.
The wings are beating faster and suddenly we’re high
climbing towards the clouds in the huge inviting sky.
I can see a few wagons steaming down the roads
see one at a coalers taking on his fuelling load,
see the fiery glow from the furnaces red heart,
the lazy puffs of steam that precedes its start.
Down there in the channel are the big white sails,
the sun reflecting back from the deck's brass rails
as the mighty steel clipper powers on its way
maybe sailing and steaming on to New Cathay.
The wings are beating slowly. I feel you seated there
tightly gripping my arm as the wind plays your hair.
The driver’s waving to us. I see him pointing down
and there spread below the roofs of old Parree Town.
The wings are slowing, the driver looks around
and with a gentle bump we’re back on the ground
The world is changing fast. We can fly all the way
from Old Lundun to Parree in well less than a day.
What is to come? Perhaps the next thing we’ll see
Is a machine crossing the Atlantick to New Amerikee;
And we’ll solve the problem of being warm and dry.
Every problem has its answer – they only need to try.
Wading into the classroom.
Wednesday, 13th June, 2018.
School uniform a bit too tight,
My body pressed against the metal zipper,
Exaggerating my jolly build.
Blasts of crisp, cold air,
Hitting my heat rash-stricken face.
A little discomfort, I felt it.
But not unbearable.
The older kids in my class then,
Not nearly as academically proficient as I was.
They beckoned me to them,
With plastic grins and class notes.
But I could see the assignment.
The one from the day before.
Blank in their books.
It didn't faze me.
I was used to it anyways.
I always believed,
That maybe if I helped them with their work,
They would stop the hurtful gossip at break time.
I may not have been the most adept speaker,
But I wasn't deaf.
I could hear their snarky comments,
Followed by sharing snacks and playing games.
They passed marshmallows at break time,
The awfully sweet scent flicking all the wrong switches,
Nauseating me. I was allergic after all.
I wouldn't dare ask for one. But the SMELL...
I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get through break time,
Inhaling that. One of them snickered, throwing a half eaten one,
To my way. I COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.
Bolting to the restroom as fast,
As my sub-athletic body could carry me,
I began to throw up in the sink.
The bitter taste of my regurgitated homemade lunch,
Fuelling my dwindling nausea.
More laughter. More taunting words. More isolation.
God, why couldn't I be normal?
Classes ended for that day.
I was finally going home. Happier that way.
Dreading every day in that classroom wasn't really a skill,
When I had tried and tried, and lost my will.
Across the city the emperor called
For recruits to join the legions
Travel to new and strange lands
And conquer for covetous reasons
As sun beat down they trained their men
To fight for colonisation,
Taking with them skills and knowledge
Introducing urbanisation.
Past mountains, lakes and plains they marched
Battalions stood United
Crossing countries, rivers, sea,
Arriving uninvited.
Invasion, yet they brought with them
Progression, innovation;
Technology since lost in ages dark
Transforming a whole nation.
Roads of stone, heated floors
Domestic sanitation,
Walls dividing tribes and clans
Fuelling aggravation.
Yet Britain’s climate, wet and dour,
It’s warriors and chief,
Sent Rome’s great fighters fleeing home
Struck dumb in disbelief,
That this small nation could be such
A hostile, retched place,
And Rome needed protecting
From the Jutes and Angles race.
So after Constantine’s withdrawal
Britain re-emerged anew,
Rebirthing of a greater nation,
Than the one the romans slew.
Left behind their legacy
Culture, architecture
But no longer an unwitting, oppressed,
Out-posted prefecture.
Little things and tiny moments make me smile,
Adding an extra sheen to my profile.
As I watch nature and look all around,
Umpteen reasons are for me to the peaks of joy mound.
As I hear a bird on a bough sing a merry song,
Enchanting me all the morning long,
Butterflies of joy escape winging from me,
And I too turn a butterfly, my mind flying in glee.
A clear sky with fluffy clouds lights up in me a smile
Fuelling me with the energy to start the day in style.
Sipping a cup of steaming tea early in the morn,
Makes me warm as basking in the mild beams of the rising sun.
I smile as I see flowers in my garden nodding in breeze,
And feel the gentle wind on me as it comes to tease,
It's joy watching summer on tip-toe, nudging its way,
And children in open spaces busy with their play.
Pleasure it's meeting by sheer chance a long- lost friend,
On an arduous journey that seems to have no end,
And knowing that my family is eager to see me win,
Sticking to me unfailingly through thick and thin.
I smile when I receive a warm hug from my partner,
At an unexpected moment with his eyes glowing in desire.
And when I hear the incoherent prattle of my grandchild,
As she displays her toys with a face gleaming in pride.
Smilingly I listen to my favourite song played on repeat
Sure, its sweet melody makes my heart go upbeat,
Summer rains and sprawling fields of wild flower,
Are sweet enough to leave me bathed in smiles’ shower.
The assurance that God is on my side in every strife
Makes me smile, even when I combat the adversities of life.
Of all, lending a helping hand to the ones who ail
And seeing their faces light up gives me a reason to smile.
I wonder if a human heartbeat sings
Will lonely people witness perfect song
As Passion plays upon these lovely strings
What noteful kisses capture can't be wrong
Young bodies merging into blissful tone
She succumbs to his perfect passion pitch
True heartfelt music crushes even stone
The harmony of love makes them feel rich
Rise lovers pleasured treble heating air
Young dancers moving slowly within beat
A trumpet playing fuelling what they share
Each movement foretold in a music sheet
Praise lover's anthem written in the song
Yes music as a heartbeat beating strong
For Brenda Chiri's Sonnet contest
If you are going to have a first date do it in style!
Pursuing more than a fair rightful need,
Man, thou hast cornered every craven toy,
Coveting vulture-like that grabs with greed,
Indulging more, way far less to enjoy,
Chasing false thrills on thy life’s every shore
To gratify thy voracious desires,
Fuelling around furious forest fires,
Yielding less and less, fielding more and more.
Thou hast far fewer brain spots of pleasure—
Those that fuel in thee a raging fire,
Beware, Nature has a rare erasure
On thy streetcar with a brake-less desire
That darts more dots O driving thou to strive,
Yet, satisfaction does seldom arrive.
Beware O man, ye covet in excess
In hedonic hotspots’ frantic mad chase,
Attempting to get more, enjoying less,
Amidst all boundless bounties art thou blasé!
…..
What ancient wisdom of ours long ere knew,
Science endorses now its weighty view.
________________________________________
Happenings | 01.04.2007 | desire, joy, pleasure
Poet’s note: A scientific study shows that wanting and liking are separate spots in brain controlled by different circuits. Only when these urges occur in sync, is the impact on brain powerful. But there is a catch. Brain has fewer mechanisms for pleasure than for desire. Hence humans are susceptible to wanting more than they can actually enjoy. Alas, science is only now beginning to understand the Indic thought spiritually and philosophically divined long ago, that too much desire which always frustrates man is not good. Minimizing one’s needs is the key to happiness.
This poem has four stanzas, progressively reducing in size— from eight, to six, to four, to two— the hedonic spots for desire must gradually reduce in sync with those to enjoy.
A weaver of words in deep quiet reflects
In his mind’s prism, many a thought deflects
Within him the rainbow colors of passion rage
He scripts songs of beauty and rhyme on page after page
He has no magic, neither erudite nor clever
But hungry souls, his poems avidly devour
Stirring their hearts as wind on whispering leaves
And each line, some alluring fancy weaves
As from pen to paper his fancies flow
In a lingo that has an unusual glow
Though a great epic may not be born
His songs move even hearts of flint n’ stone
He sings the paeans of love and life
Of men in cross roads of toil and strife
He awakens dead worlds long forgotten
Taking us to magic lands never trodden
His songs have echoes of a heavenly rhapsody
Drowning the Earth in flooding melody
Fuelling hearts with thoughts one cannot name
Spawning tempestuous passions one cannot tame
Placed First.
8 Dec. 2021
A Strand (1045)Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand
This June, our national football team
Is going to South Africa, for the World Cup
When we were told not to wear our team colours
I thought, ‘This country has gone bottom up!’
Since when did our nation get twisted
Into a totalitarian state?
Where certain minorities have their say
Fuelling the ‘BNP’s’ fires of hate
They wouldn’t have even dare to constrain
The Welsh, the Irish or Scots
Who if told not to wear their teams colours
Would rather be hung, drawn, quartered or shot
Their sense of pride in their history
And for their Countries, is world renowned,
For England to bow to the vociferous few
Would be letting the team in South Africa down
Not to mention our troops in Afghanistan
Fighting terror so we can live free
Nailing their colours to the mast
Standing proud in the fight for their country
We here in England must echo that pride
As onwards all ‘our boys’ forge
And I for one, will be flying my flag
For Queen, Country, ‘boys’ and Saint George.
all seemed well in heaven’s cocoon
then we sought earth life as a boon
to feel contrast one became two
male, female, the sun and the moon
stuporous mind, but a cat’s mew
of higher wisdom not a clue
muddled further by senses five
the web from which we must unglue
why do we feel that we’re alive
we know not who we are, yet strive
trapped in the open, free within
one with oneness, in heart’s bliss hive
attachment is our only sin
fuelling needless thought flow din
if we be but still, voids will fill
silence then’s the way to begin
first things first, we surrender will
love perches on heart’s window sill
the mirror shatters; we are free
relieved the dream was but a drill