Long Goldmine Poems
Long Goldmine Poems. Below are the most popular long Goldmine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Goldmine poems by poem length and keyword.
At the end
of the river's exhausted reach
where swamp firmed
into solid ground, there was a place
the locals used as a tip.
Broken, worn out stuff
from clean outs, hoarded
household effects finally let go,
garage junk
and the discarded leftovers
from deceased estates
were dumped there.
The place was a goldmine for boys
on the hunt for soapbox wheels
and parts or anything
that could be used to build
wonders blueprinted
on raging minds. Pipes bent
into chopper handlebars
to lend lift to a boring bike, fit outs
for tree houses, defenses for forts,
the frames for boats and airplanes
that were born in hope
but would never float or fly
beyond a backyard.
The thrill was in the making.
When the council closed the tip
and moved it miles away,
it was as if a vital organ
in the neighborhood soul had been
taken out. Boys were deprived
of the lifeblood and source
of their making. For some time,
groups would ride their bikes there
and pause before an empty space
and stare. They had no words
for their grief. Slowly, the hole
healed over though something
inside had been lost. The bounty
that was once provided by the tip
was replaced by shiny things
bought brand new from shops.
avast extent of following poem
crafted a couple plus years ago,
when foretaste of temperate weather
covered swath of eastern seaboard.
Courtesy climate change
(think global warming),
I would never wish to exchange
unseasonably warm temperature
(eighteen plus degrees celsius
in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania)
meaning way out of expected range,
cuz far to balmy, undoubtedly
with old man winter furious
his blizzard snowbound
weather forecasts shortchanged.
Once thermometer readings rise
even smidgen one moost not minimize
Earth way out of balance,
an inconvenient truth
I haint gonna catastrophize
as bajillion acres plus
one after another ocean dries
even the skeptic cannot turn
blind eye and believe contrary lies
when every species practically extinct
and self proclaimed éminence grise
doth trumpet and stubbornly tries
to claim plethora unearthed resources
as sudden goldmine
against wages of sin
former traitor joe
(biden his time) redeemers actualize
to catalyze nth industrial revolution
teaching as heresy
ecocentric, which material basket
of deplorables power mongers bowdlerize
concurrence toward meteorological
trend most all people agree
toward adapting, experiencing,
and witnessing increase -
fair in height degree
bestowed upon Thomas Newcomen,
Richard Arkwright, Samuel Crompton,
Edmund Cartwright
and James Watt first Industrial
Revolution conferred as honoree
appellation not necessarily
in retrospect donned as noble pedigree,
now hundred of years
later downside we see
of belching, coughing,
disorging... yes siree
foul, (née deadly)
cancerous, gaseous, noxious... pollutants.
Mr. Jerry Reed Hubbard was a native of Atlanta.
That is the biggest city in the Peach State of Georgia.
The people there were proud of their native son.
A few of his songs made Country Billboard’s number one.
A gold record and Grammy Award is what he got
for the best-selling single “When You’re Hot, You’re Hot”.
Many of his songs were funny, and I certainly laughed
when I heard his “She Got the Goldmine, I Got the Shaft”.
We also saw him with Burt Reynolds in the movies
where he warned the Bandit about those pursuing smokeys.
Jerry undoubtedly had a career that was great
until he sadly passed away in 2008.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for information I obtained to write this poem.
Christmas Rebels
It was about a weak
After that night walk
The unknown dangers,
Made known, turned me weak,
I was managing myself,
After my heart was pulled,
From where it sank,
I was yet in the oven,
Of my haven,
To dry up the coldness,
And the wetness,
Of that fearful night loneliness,
Today is Christmas,
The whole mass,
Was joyous,
Every home, glorious,
Meat was plenteous,
Rice and beans.
Was every homes means,
Children bouncing in,
New goat skin jackets,
Mother’s dressed in costly
Beads and all the way,
Father leads.
For Christmas had taking over,
Taking over the African Shrine,
It supplied a joyous sunshine.
Our pockets were full of cowries,
Like a goldmine,
Happiness was mine,
For the usual war seemed
To be hidden, and our teethes where like,
“Forever opened”.
Oh! Joyful, blissful, plentiful Christmas.
Providing joy each time it surface,
But joy has a slender waist that breaks so soon.
Christmas night came, so we visited
Our beds as night rang it’s bell,
(To be continued in the next, same Poem).
It was a dark night with a full moon
I decide to go sit out on the porch
The dark lake was lit up by a torch
Feeling tired, hoping you are home soon
As the water starts to ripple in the breeze
I see a large creature emerge in the light
Scared, I can’t move, I am frozen in fright
I can barely breathe, as I start to wheeze
It looks long and huge, and black in color
Not really like a gator or any type of fish
I watch and pray it goes away soon, I wish
It swims closer to shore, and starts to hover
I quickly run inside and lock my door
Panic stricken, not sure what to do
I hear a car door; I hope and pray it’s you
I hear a helicopter, as I drop to the floor
I wake up to your kisses on my lips
I am in my bed with your arms around me
I must have been dreaming, I smile with glee
I start to get out of bed as your hands grip
You say, I must have drunk way too much wine
I was passed out on the floor when you came home
I said I saw a huge creature, something scary, unknown
Yes, you tell me, it’s a secret experiment, our goldmine
8/18/19
Contest: Writing Challenge 2, August 2019 - Enclosed Rhyme
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Sunshine Smiles
The skies open up to the beauty of Sunshine Smiles
Just the sounds of her name chimes
Sounds of her harmonize poems intertwining
Melody, rhythm, and rhyme
Like leaves on ivy vines and the taste of fine wine
In our hearts fill with tales of fairies, love, and sunshine
Leaving her beautiful inspiring presence behind
A goldmine of fine array of poems, friendships of sunshine
All the way from Norway
You’re destined to stay in our lives and flourish always
10/18/2016
Tribute to a very lovely lady Anne-Lise Andresen
Tried to give all my money over yonder.
Something in me had started to stir.
Not the feathers in my brain.
Not the lost stuff in the drain.
Yes, I’m as generous as a sprinkler with water to last.
Felt paper dollars crumpled in my past.
Being a part of generosity.
Means that some part of me is feeling thready.
But when I died, it was as if it was only my evil twin.
So I continued to survive without and within.
Do I regret giving all that cash to the dawn?
Until my last grimace was gone?
Being generous means to live just fine.
Even without the goldmine.
Yes, part of me died, but it was paper thin.
Just like the bills thumping within.
Might never be rich once more.
From the surgery, my head is still sore.
I think the person that died that night.
Was the greed that felt a fright.
I died ten years later to the day.
Without a penny to stay.
Got cremated.
And every penny I gave has abated.
The money spread on and throughout.
Went through the shredder eventually, I have no doubt.
Paterfamilias gone since October 7th, 2020
The spirit of Boyce Brandon Harris
(mine papa) awoke
vested gentry coutured raiment
did don and singularly cloak
affecting haunting resemblance
to daguerreotype accentuating,
(especially his facial features)
as Semitic (i.e. Ashkenazi) folk.
Circumstances found yours truly stationed
(wagon ma figurative tale) outside
within close proximity to our parked vehicle,
a 2009 copper toned Hyundai Sonata
bequeathed to us (thee wife)
courtesy said male parent
approximately six months prior.
Though not necessarily
mechanically engineered
(like dear ole dad),
I know basic
vehicular maintenance tidbits,
thus rummaged trunk
for sought after portable air compressor
purchased when I owned
previous automobile - also
2009 Hyundai Sonata plus
similarly acquired thru
Enterprise rent a car.
After removing most all
miscellaneous paraphernalia -
including recycling materials
the missus regularly
drops off at Wegmans
subsequently organizing trunk in process
I finally located
two lightweight air compressors,
the more heavy duty model
bought years before father passed away,
plus said recently deceased parent
also kept portable battery charger,
both items a dog send
analogous to striking motherlode
of unsuspecting goldmine
ready to shout finders keepers!
Though yours truly
(i.e. me) skeptical dude
regarding existence
of benevolent invisible I allude
to sudden awakening to brood
notion concerning divine
omniscient essence,
which found local bummer
in an ecstatic mood
whereby, I did pray tell
(rather bellow) gratitude
Capital one stroke of luck
to discover (visa vis)
needful things to carry
to avoid being in misery stranded
out in the middle of nowhere
guided courtesy the shining star
tentatively headed towards desperation
resembling a black house
preparing myself (otherwise
known as lovely bag of bones)
for the long walk
into the dark tower of doom.
Through corresponding Orphan Gates,
Taken out One by One.
Adorned with a Tiara,
Sisters apart, for years.
The first carried out,
Feet unable to perambulate.
First princess over the threshold —
Flies feet first into the carriage.
On each side, adoptive parents.
The second in royal pace,
Glances behind, only for a second.
Takes her place beside her Sister.
Sweet hug, kiss on forehead.
The Pumpkin Coach marches on.
Delicate orange curtains, gentle wind,
guides them forward from the Ukraine
to the promise of America.
What that is - is a mystery to the girls.
Each step will further Freedom.
What freedom is
A home to call their own
A place to run free
Choices, choices, choices…
Celebrate your own
Freedom
What many lack
Is in their own imagination
Turn up gratitude
Find someone
Less fortunate than you
Spend your love on them
Choose
To give abundantly
From your goldmine
Godspeed ahead
10/18/2020
I saw a girl,a fair beauty,
Whose sunny brightness
Impressed my eyes.
I thought i was confused,
No!i have to be composed.
"Hello,eyes desire?"my
Words were in slow motion.
"Hello,strange comer,"her
Words were even slower...
She must be without palaver.
My notion got unleashed,
Truly and carefully,
Convincing her like never before.
A melodious subtle laughter followed,
Like something from my guitar,
Making her display her verdicts.
She is the karachi girl,
Hometown in pakistan,grand daughter
Of a goldmine,in love with me,
A penny boy for nature
And affection's sake.
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