Long Steamer Poems
Long Steamer Poems. Below are the most popular long Steamer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Steamer poems by poem length and keyword.
Lake Léman must float
the weight of the city –
Its grey stolid affluence
needs hydraulic help.
Our paddle steamer chuffs
beyond the tall fountain.
For a while, grand houses
bob beside us.
In Geneva the poor must fit between
the opulence.
Up ahead, Mont Blanc,
and other Wagnerian massifs,
begin to shrink us into fisheyes.
Then sunlight spills its sky
into the deep waters.
Suddenly we are afloat on mountaintops!
I could be almost happy here
if we were not just renting this moment.
When we return to the city
the sky will be gray once more,
the poor will still be poor.
Outside the stylish patisseries,
sparrows will still fight for crumbs.
Types, Varieties, and Cooking Suggestions for Clams
quahogs, which include varieties like little necks, cherrystones, and chowder clams.
Softshell Maryland's commercially important clams are called softshell clams (Mya arenaria), also known as mannos.Steamer clams, or longnecks, and hard clams (Mercenaria mercenaria), also known as They are prized for their delicate meat and are often steamed, used in chowders, or fried.
They needed to create something to save this industry. It is really needed. People don't know that the pride of an industry is in that one product that everyone prides and is envous of. they wish they had invented it. Softshell clams are delicate enough to enjoy in a different dishes. The creation of the clam waffle with potatoes, bacon, chives, sourcream and topped with cream cheese and maple syrup is a novel if not great treat for people in every genre. It would be apprecated.
we wanna sell one hundred plates for breakfast. 100 plates for dinner.
and One hundred plates for supper.
in addition we wanna sell bacon sandwiches. Sausage sandwiches. And steak dinners with salds and watermelon drinks. We tryna get the recipe down so the Fella at the Factory can get his thang straight and we can be aligned and in alignment. Mafango Mannoes and that delicous Candain Maple syrup. and Who can for get that southern style or northern style smoked bacon. And the Sourcream is a dutch type treat. We are gonna have it so that McDonalds and Roy Rogers will sell these thangs! Malaguena, we just need two men who like music history enough to be willing to make hstory using a quote that celebrated guitar music. That being said, we are looking to inspire a movement were people can buy our clam waffles and sit down and the theme song they'd hear would sound like the fusion between Jimi Hendrix and Roy ClARK: ( foreal and dueling solo, that would be added to a lyrical compromise.) Who's better I don't know ask Roy Clark!
He had a handsomeness that spoke about his character
Yanez was instantly drawn in, by his nobility and his strength
He had integrity even if he did not understand the evil of Brooke
His teacher Macassar had prepared him for everything but this
Governor Brooke figured out this curious man was coming
Wanting answers he did not want to give; he was a jealous man
Kammamuri vocal as Yanez, pleading with Sandokan to stop this quest
He kept moving forward, catching a steamer turned toward Labuan
Marianne was the most beautiful woman Sandokan had ever seen.
She was daring and clever, nothing like her diabolical uncle.
Their hideout was the Island of Mompracem, referred to by pirates
Under the name The Tigers of Malaysia. Their adventures were many.
We arrived like windblown dirt,
the steamer vomited us out
then wallowed into a smug stillness.
We migrants stood
to be led somewhere, anywhere
slowly we disembarked, disorganized
and straggling,
lingering on the dock for leadership,
for welcoming hands,
we were examined, passed through check points,
our crumpled papers stamped
with a smudged and unreadable seal.
Lady liberty with her torch seemed
as green now as our long seasick hopes.
Cops glared at us
as if we were rotting fish,
a bad catch.
We held hands; heads bowed
ploughed through to the teaming city.
The high windows, narrow passageways,
the overhanging washing
all were threads
we understood through alien eyes.
Ghettos are the same everywhere.
The people were almost as poor as us,
they had little to share
so we found holes in the walls
scrabbled and scrimped
the way mice do in an empty barn.
Little by little we grew wealthy
others fell sick and died,
a few married well.
Some went to the notorious bad
became powerful enough to prey
on the weak - even their own.
Sinners prospered
just as they did in the old world,
nothing original in that,
we had witnessed it all before.
Now we survive, thrive,
lead lives of a spirited and rowdy grace,
stare cops in the face, and wink
as if we owned them.
Generally speaking we deplore
all exiles from foreign lands,
we’re comfortable here
and have no room for newcomers,
those that are penniless and brazenly
land at our very door.
“The chances against anything manlike on Mars are a million to one,” he said. (Excerpt from the book by H G Wells.)
WATCH OUT, run for your lives ...the Martians are coming!
Well on October 30, 1938
Terrified listeners truly thought the world was ending
When a radio broadcast
Of H G Wells book ‘The War of the Worlds’ was aired
Jeff Wayne turn the book into an epic musical story
Well over 40 years have passed since it was released
Millions have listened to the double album
And seen a Martian monster recreated in the stage show
Though the Martians first invade dry land
The album cover focuses on the war at sea …
Terror stricken sea travellers try to escape
A massive menacing metal monster
With bulging green bug like eyes
Its gleaming silver body perched high upon
Three spindly chop stick like tripod legs
It stalks the steamer like a spider eying its prey
The brave captain tries to steer the ship to safely
but it’s is tossed on stormy seas
like a rag doll thrown by a petulant toddler
Suddenly, the ebon sky is illuminated
By an intense golden beam - a death ray
Which pierces the bow of steamer
with pinpoint accuracy
White smoke billows, fire rages
Countless lives will be lost
Will the Martians conquer the world?
I won’t spoil it for you…
Just listen to the album story to find out
Believe me you won’t regret it!!
twenty five steamer clams
snouts removed and dressed
in a oval pan arrange them.
3/4 cups of clarified butter
2 tablespoons of minced garlic
1/4 cup of minced parsley
1 teaspoon of lemon zest
1 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
or 1 teaspoon of hot pepper sauce
1/4 teaspoon of horseradish
1/2 cup of deep fried Speck (diced fine)
1/2 of white wine
1 Tablespoon of crown royale
1 Tablespoon of lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon of toasted sesame seeds
3 tablespoons of parmesan cheese
1 shallot diced fine
Mix well chill in refrigerator for ten minutes
use a teaspoon and top clams
in the bottom of the pan pour 1/2 of heavy cream
1 tablespoon of fish stock and 1/3 cups of sliced mushrooms
and 1/4 cups of butter
(mix on top in a sauce pan if you are serving
with toast) make the sauce
before pouring under the clams
brown silepoons of bread crumbs in butter
top each stuffed clam with a sprinkle of Toasted crumbs
in a preheated oven
bake for fifteen minutes
serve hot!
the drink ( that'll learn 'em)
..........................................
4 cups of tomato juice
1/2 cup reserved clam juice
1/2 cup of lime juice
in a juicer
juice 1 celery stalk
1 lemon
1/2 cup of cashews
10 strawberries
1 seeded jalapeno pepper
1 cored apple
mix with tomato juice
2 cups of vodka
5 cups of extra dry gin
2 cups of white grape juice
Grace Darling
Tempest spits upon the gunnels,
But Grace Darling manhandles the paddles
To rescue the folks of the Forfarshire crash,
Stranded on the Farne Islands off the Northumberland coast.
The spirit of innocence to give more than ought
Took on the challenge and faced the onslaught.
And lucky for them on Big Harcar Rock,
Grace Darling was manning the boat.
***
Note:
During a stormy night on September 6, 1838, the paddle steamer SS Forfarshire, with sixty-one passengers and crew aboard, ran aground and foundered near Big Harcar Island of the Farne Islands group in the North Sea, located off the Northumberland coast of the United Kingdom, and sank in the early morning hours of September 7, 1838. Thirteen people escaped the sinking vessel and were stranded on Big Harcar Island, where four were swept away into the sea. The others who were on the SS Forfarshire perished in the storm.
Grace Darling and her father (William Darling, who was the Longstone Lighthouse keeper, located in the outer group of the Farne Islands) rowed out to rescue the survivors. Grace Darling (age 22) manned the rowboat and kept it steady while her father aided in the rescue of the stranded survivors. For her heroics, Grace Darling became the first woman and the first citizen recipient of the Royal Humane Society’s gold bravery medal. She and her father were awarded the Royal National Lifeboat Institution silver gallantry medal. Grace Horsley Darling was born in 1815 and died of tuberculosis in 1842.
The Union Pacific steamer billowed clouds of smoke as down the rails it raced!
Young soldiers aboard the crowded train contemplated the dire fates they faced.
Melancholy thoughts of hearth and home this Christmas Day were hard to bear.
The mournful wail of the engine's whistle added to their loneliness and despair.
The troop train provided very little conveniences for the miserable men.
No showers, a potbellied stove for heat and a tasteless meal now and then.
Little sleep was had since there were no berths or fancy Pullman cars.
Even a nap in their seats was fitful due to the coaches rocking jars!
Ah, but there was good news ahead for these young men on the way to war!
The sergeant announced, "We're stoppin' at North Platte, Nebraska! Ain't very far!
The kind ladies of North Platte is waitin' to greet youse on this Christmas Day!
Now, watch yer language, comb yer hair and shine yer shoes wid'out delay!"
The ladies of North Platte met every train passing through since the war began!
From the bounty of their farms they provided food for each and every man!
Ladies from miles about brought fried chicken, candy, apple pies and cakes,
Even popcorn balls with addresses of girls wrapped therein, for heaven's sakes!
Each train stopped for twenty minutes or so to take on more water and coal,
But those precious moments lifted the morale of the men which was the ladies goal!
They met as many as thirty-two trains a day serving nearly six million guys!
Decades later those men, now old vets, recall North Platte with teary eyes!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
I am scared, and I have never been scared in my life. We lost our radio, radar, and other electronic navigation gear when we came through the Bermuda Triangle. One of the old salts aboard this rusty gray bucket of bolts they call a tramp steamer said, we must have offended King Neptune. It is a known fact that the ship cheated Davy Jones' Locker three times when it was running convoys during WWII.
Where the storm came from, no one knows! Thirty-foot waves of blue-green foamy water are breaking over the bow flooding the main deck and throwing a salty mist spray over the bridge. The off-duty watch are confined to their racks for safety while the ship bobs and rolls like a roller coaster in the trough of the waves. Many lie there and pray as they listen to the moans and groans of the ship-expansion joints as the ship twist from side to side. Some of the sounds, sound human and I'm not so sure that they're not. I felt as if someone was calling me to come and join them in the briny deep.
By: Poet Sonny Roper
lacking gallantry
heave round in Satan's abyss
death clock off duty
By Poet
8/17/2021
The captain’s eyes glow ruby red
Atop the steamer’s deck –
A rusted tin can set adrift
By rough Atlantic crests
A crimson emblem sanctions
This whaler’s floating tomb –
A battered vessel bearing
Insignias of doom
Red ember sparks illuminate
The old man’s hickory pipe,
As he begins to scour the sea
For subtle signs of life
The radar soon shines fiery red,
And deckhands race to find
Their harpoons pointed straight ahead
At monsters in mid-dive
'There she blows!' the captain blares,
His face now beating red;
The hunt is on for him again,
And victory’s ahead
But as the scarlet sun moves west,
Black storm clouds open wide,
And though the weary crew protests,
He keeps the men in line
One well aimed shot is all he needs
To stain the ocean red,
But angry winds and beating rain
Show no signs of an end
The crimson hull begins to quake
As waves come crashing down,
And though the crew is mad with fright,
The captain only frowns
Then finally a sound rings sharp
Amid the roaring surf –
The red harpoon has found its mark:
A whale of massive girth
'We got her now!' the captain chimes,
His new prize bleeding red,
But with his words a rogue wave climbs
Ten feet above their heads
As they stare up with fear and awe,
They realize their fate –
Atop the blood-red steamer bow,
They know that it's too late
And though the crew and captain pray
For rescue from the squall,
The phantom wave of burgundy
Descends to drown them all.