Long Natural gas Poems
Long Natural gas Poems. Below are the most popular long Natural gas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Natural gas poems by poem length and keyword.
The windows are closing in, and gaps are getting thin, mankind has paid the sacrifice for useless pollution on the surface of the earth and their lungs are filled with dirt.
I look above the benevolent sky and search for the big lie, Fossil Fuels supply eighty four percent of the world’s energy and you want to phase it out in a hurry, what alternative do you have to supply the world with clean energy?
The scientists don’t know this and the chemist cannot prove it but the physicist can narrate it. Their work is outside but the formula is embedded inside and the philosopher is their guide.
Hydrocarbon is lining the throne and natural gas is homeward bound. The coal is floating around in abundance and the oil is shooting through the pipes what the row is about is to bring it to net zero or phase it out?
They come from all over the globe to listen to the multitude shout and have joined the climate change choir and expressing their innate desire. The band is in place and the musicians are on the stage, they have composed the fossil fuel hymn and everybody began to sing.
But the rhythm and the harmony are not right and there is a silent internal fight, the heavens are standing tall and the mountains are rubbing against the wall.
The chief is singing the base and Opec giant has entered the debate and blocked the fossil fuel phasing out scheme and have shattered the green minded countries dream.
What alternatives do you have when the world demand for fossil fuels doubles every twenty years? Why are you in such a hurry when there is no other voice to join the choir.
Climate Change is real and you have got to have continuous negotiation to generate a practical solution to appease your fossil fuel ambition. You must knock off some of the theory and stitch the entire loose edges together.
Carbon emission reduction is on the agenda too, it is causing controversy for me and you and if you put fossil fuel and carbon emission all together the internal combustion will move the engine around the world.
Tomorrow when you meet and start to greet you must come up with a solid plan to moderate carbon emission and fossil fuel demand on the land without causing power outage and fuel shortage around the globe. The row will continue until you figure how to sort it out.
Xxvi+ marriage anniversary (mine)
recalls first disastrous
date with future missus
approximately waltzing
matt tilde two dozen
plus years ago
Tex Mex Connection
201 E Walnut Street
North Wales, Pennsylvania, 19454
every entree included beans
maybe refried or otherwise
effectively laid siege
mine delicate constitution
quickly felt bloated
ready to explode
ala Hindenburg Airship
rushed out restaurant
like bat out of hell
twofold purpose accomplished
desperately needed
to eliminate gaseous buildup
airing banal courtesy
yours truly as kapellmeister
aired rendition, viz Die Fledermaus
for sphincter muscle
hence, faster than Usain Bolt
dashed out front door
plus needed to tap MAC
inadequate wallet stash cash
thus, aye hightailed to nearest ATM,
or rather courtesy rectal explosion
blasted lovely gaseous body
analogously, effectively, gravity free
whizzing, whirring, whining balloon
a bit far afield
incidental bank woe
gastrointestinal directive resolved
forced effort taxed derriere
all told alight propulsion
natural gas fueled
lovely bones within flash
far surpassing long held
Guinness Book world's record
Jackass the ripper former
flatulence champion claimed,
nonetheless I safely landed far
from madding crowd
analogous pulling pin
out hand grenade
gluteus maximus burnt to crisp
necessitated immediate diversion
local drug store
purchased preparation H
discreetly patted, palmed, pacified
scorched cheeky bum
suffered first-degree burns
hemorrhoid cream balm
alleviated buttuck blasts fallout
quickly reunited with my gal
slightly concerned about whereabouts
related personal anecdote
tuckus thru remains of
otherwise humdrum hours
concluding asinine antics,
where approximately
half past monkey's ass
driving lass back home
found me exerting effort suppressing
recurring rumblies in domain tumbly.
Posterior script:
the above account
unsolicited plug for satisfied patron
asper jumpstarting behind the times
car rear ring buttuck blaster beastie boy.
Sleeping Beauty move over, you got fierce competition
Ain't no vicious rumor,
but dead serious joke
cuz no princess
can kiss bajillion times
to get yours truly woke
ah... just one garden variety generic
Geico Frog Prince
(in actuality I
wanna be caveman bloke)
nothing will disrupt me,
not even minor noose,
so hence go ahead
to get dude duke to choke,
or light a fire under my keister,
nsync with strong arms
issuing lances jabbing poke
but natural gas within me
will endanger nearby folk.
Now listen up,
cuz Zarathustra hath spoke
randomly selected Matthew Scott Harris
sitting prettily athwart
(think Boy George of Culture Club)
on his toadstool,
his (courtesy Zarathustra)
divine inspiration he doth not cloak
couched admonition forewarning
demise kisser will croak
unless he/she qualifies as
bonifide LGBTQ - okey doke
don't say, I did not give fair warning,
while going for broke
courtesy one gay (ping) small/medium
at large frog, usually found soak
king up sunbeams
nonchalantly taking toke
exotic blend comprising
flies, mosquitoes, moths
and damn dragonflies
after they did marinate and soak
within solution mainly egg yolk
to offer greatest smoke.
Oh don't be confused, flummoxed,
nor ill humored regarding mine
married status with tadpoles
totalling ahem... sixty nine
heterosexual biological reproduction
consummated as faux sign
unable to retrofit, reddit, ribbit...
no I honest got a short backbone (spine)
with large hip bone to support
powerful leg muscles taut as pine
yet smooth and glassy as River Seine
out true self before I feign to croak
purportedly rumor heard thru grapevine,
but twitch started by yours truly.
Postscript: my apology,
noah arked intent cited as offender
toward any living creature sexual gender
who might take objection regarding
unfairly labeled, hashtagged,
as duped pretender
cuz thy persona, karma,
charisma... genuinely legally tender.
My friends say this magnificent rose
Gives off the most wonderful aroma of spring
I am catching a scent somewhat obscure
As yet no recognizable thing
For I'm losing the sense
Of smell in my nose
Perhaps what I'm smelling
Though peculiar and unselling
Is this lovely flower
This most fragrant rose
Most likely it's the pasture
Expelling natural gas
Which is nostalgic and familiar
With its hint of ammonia and pungent aroma
But, I fear, even this shall pass
There's the most angelic sound in the meadow nearby
That is what my lovely neighbor conveys
She jots down the melody with each bar and clef
For I cannot hear it
I am practically deaf
But I do hear the shrill voice
Of my neighbor's young lass
Which is nostalgic and familiar
Though disconcerting and frightful
And never delightful
I fear, even this shall pass
The most beautiful creature stops at my house
It arrives every day to feed
This is just what I've heard
To me it's all blurred
For a new pair of glasses I need
But I do see the glare
From a bonfire of grass
Which is nostalgic and familiar
Though odious and weedy
And noxiously seedy
I fear, even this shall pass
My neighbor is bringing a dinner she will baste
Which others around highly praise
The sensation for me is hardly a meal
I have lost the better part of my taste
But I savor the peppers
She always brings me in mass
Which are nostalgic and familiar
Though indigestible and spicy
And especially dicey
I fear, even this shall pass
I fondly remember my wife's gentle touch
But this sense too I now lack
If it weren't for the fall
I'd have no sensation at all
But, for these sharp piercing pains
Down my back - Alas! Alas!
While nostalgic and familiar
And though crippling and painful
It is nothing disdainful
And I fear, even this shall pass
Now when I'm gone all will be quite sublime
I will have transcended to the sixth sense
I will be free as a bird
Free from the limits of time
Reunited with the Lord of Providence
Coral and lime stones
You can take the country out of me
However, not the trace of acid lime out of my blood
Growing up on the island has its advantages
Everybody was related to each other: and everyone knew
each other real names.
My grandmother was known as Nana to every little boy or girl
We all were well mannered bare feet rug rats
It was never about sparing the rod, and spoiling the brats
It was slap and several back slaps
No bad behave child were never reward back in those days
What I cherish most was the sense of freedom
playing in the open fields; running wild in the prickly grass
and chasing rainbow butterflies in the hot sun until dinner time
I remember lot of sunshine and weeks of rain
Plenty of fresh air, and poor folks who always care
about the welfare of each other
Somehow, the earth tasted like lime,
My cousin would take chunks of square dirt
And chew on it: Nana scolds her each time
However, every other weekend
It was a dose of castor oil or cod-liver oil
This made our little bodies tremble
She called it cleansing your little souls
And building strong bone and teeth
My little Island was all coral and lime stones
acres and acreage of sugarcane fields to roam
With made the earth more sweet and rich
Tropical; rainy season
Petroleum, fish, natural gas
on the tropical island of Barbados
what more could any child asked for?
besides being happy and safe
Looking back with a warm feeling
for the love of the island winds that blew
Over the hills on windy days
How can I not give back to the Island?
My heart would always remains
On the coral and lime stones earth.
Where Pride and Industry of the little Island is our motto
They used to call it the Empire State.
But the empire isn't doing too great.
Democrats in power, big ideas they plan.
Too bad for the middle class and the forgotten man.
Low-income high rise in your village
Middle class won't escape the general pillage.
Congestion and crime, they'll surely bring,
Practical doesn't matter, ideals are everything.
Landlords, its coming, statewide rent control.
They think you fat cats should be in a hole.
Squatters' rights beat your rights, so you can't evict.
Pols keep finding new ways, troubles to inflict.
Borders wide open, worldwide crooks pour in
MS-13, Venezuelan gangs, we lose, they win.
Homeless camps appear, old diseases arise.
Politicians let a killer loose, and Laken Riley dies.
They say, "Just pack your bags, if you disagree
We don't need you, go to Florida or Tennessee
Idaho, Montana the stampede fills them in
Locals priced out, waters rise, can you swim?
Shoplifters know hundreds of items can go.
No downside, they end up rolling in dough.
For assault, arrests are made but holding is rare,
If you're the next victim, guess who doesn't care.
A store owner could ask, what am I working for,
Just to watch my goods exit out the door?
I know people who no longer walk at night.
Hard to believe pols didn't do this from spite.
They'll remove your oil and natural gas.
You can't pay the AC, but more laws they'll pass.
They'll remove merit from the medical schools.
don't crash getting out, you'll be mended by fools.
What they really believe they tactically hide
Till you elect them, then the four horsemen ride
No room for the little guy, the pols feel disdain.
Look out the window, you're on a runaway train.
Just A Thin Blue Ribbon
Sponsor: Rita A. Simmonds
It’s not just a globe…
The atmosphere’s wonder is held within a deep creation,
with natural lands made out of nickel, iron and clay,
a sphere with beaming skies and the dry land habitation,
with stretches of transparent water; oceans, seas and lakes.
From up here it seems so diminutive yet significant,
the big bang promised an earth with ages of interglacial,
I see the hazy cobalt air aspect making the world magnificent,
while I stare from above at the clouds for it's purely celestial.
The ethereal goodness of the skies shown three hundred miles below,
makes me wonder who actually created the earth,
unfortunately, all the pollution and littering has taken its toll,
I think the fossil fuels and natural gas are the worst.
I see nothing but black surrounding me…
A state of nullity with nothing to touch and adhere to,
one of the things I see is different shades of green,
the other thing I admire is the streaks in the sky of blue,
for no one can comprehend the flawlessness I have seen.
The elegance captured is priceless; worthy of praise,
there’s no exception when revealing its azure merit,
if we could only realize the globes beauty and embrace,
we are all a part of the earth’s ecosystem and are biospheric.
There is an impeccable wonder streaming around in my head,
the earth’s health is contingent upon the lifestyle we live in,
let’s save energy and support the world with love spread,
I observe in awe at a distance, that graceful thin blue ribbon.
Date Written: May 10, 2016
High pipe stacks venting hot burning gas
In the Gulf of Mexico where fishing a blast
Oil rigs vent natural gas that never stops
The hot flames create - crackles, snaps and pops
This hot burning flame is known as a flare
it’s the serious fisherman will you find there
The heat’s so intense you stay far away
You catch fish there at night; not during day
Bugs are attracted to the flame at night
Then heat over comes them, they drop from flight
Small fish are waiting each night for the feed
That draws the big ones for the food they need
The giant ones are also hanging around
Normally the sharks find this feeding ground
When a giant one swallows a fish you have on
Best to cut your line before it’s all gone
But on this trip we’re after speckled trout
Keep fishing until all ice chests fill out
All poles are rigged up with two hooks per line
You’re always expected to catch two at a time
A speckled trout isn’t a trout at all
It’s named is “weakfish”, that’s its proper call
A brackish water fish, gets a foot long
In the Gulf at the flares, grow twice that long
“Flare fishing” involves being up all night
Grab a snack and cool one when off the bite
It’s a long run to get there and get back
Make the best of it you can, do not slack
All the ice chests must be packed just right
With layers of fish and layers of ice
Most all of the fish that we catch, we sell
A night of flare fishing, you’re tired as hell
You think to yourself I’m done doing that
Too much work and no sleep for what I get
But when someone says, “Let’s fish the flares”
I’ll say, “Sure, I love to catch them in pairs”
No lentil beans before bedtime unless...
(alternately titled: unrelenting flatulence)
Ya wanna count bajillion sheep,
but tween gluteus maximus powerful
natural gas explosions during sleep
(ass suspected source) – courtesy missus
she served me lentil beans piled outsize heap
sinister been off fish shunt ploy
spouse I may no longer keep,
cuz dream house went up in flames
reduced to ashes smoldering (Uriah hit) heap
an feeble attempt made to extinguish courtesy
urination which suddenly found me awoke
moments ago groggily awakened out deep
slumber out requisite snooze,
cuz I bean dog tired exhausted fuel
driving one clunky body electric jeep
wee hours way after midnight night owl
in case ya give fig yore hot heave hoot
blasted tremendously nonstop
rendering air to smell foul
while my little chickadee evinced similar
disposition, she too did pepper her muttering
with expletives, and did growl
snarling evidenced yours truly espied scowl
unrepentant and threatened to apply dowel
well, I need not specify, "a" specific vowel
one cheeky spouse,
would find yours truly to howl
no pretty picture me bean
while slowly turning unnatural green,
henceforth rushed to emergency room
whereby team of alien specialists,
who casually did primp and preen
mistaking convincingly verdant colored
hue man as martian ready for Halloween,
and said practitioners loathe to intervene
reckoning yours truly -
with other worldly mien,
Trinidad
My island in the sun
Where my birthright belongs
My ancestors sail from far
... And there I was born
They came from India
Across the oceans
Work in the cane fields
And the plantation
Bring their curry spices
And Indian recipes to cook
Play their drum and dhantal
Sing and dance after work
Cooking roti on a tawa
Curry baigan and aloo
Dhal, rice and kuchela
Bara and channa too
How far Trinidad has come today
Together we aspire, together we achieve"
A small power in the world
With oil wealth up its sleeve
Free educations for
Every boy and girl
Mix with different races
From around the world
lord kitchener
The mighty sparrow
Brian Lara
And sundar popo
Going for a river lime
Cooking on the rock
Drinking we beer
And eating curry duck
c
The Beautiful beaches
Walking on the sands
Singing calypsos
Beating steel pans
La Brea pitch lake
Natural gas and petroleum
Sugar cane and molasses
Old oak and puncheon rum
Aloo choka, fried Plantain
Bel air bar be que
Bake and shark
And curry manicou
Princess town to san Fernando
Barrackpore to Cumuto
Port of Spain to Mayaro
scarborough tobago
Most southerly islands
Of the Caribbean,
The none stop breeze
Of the Atlantic oceans
This is my island in the sun