Long Steampunk Poems
Long Steampunk Poems. Below are the most popular long Steampunk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Steampunk poems by poem length and keyword.
A tall gothic black, steampunk top hat,
Hung from a hook by her bed,
Hung in the gloom, of her velvet black room,
After spending the day on her head,
And it was covered in gears from a motorised clock,
Goggles, a strap, and a feather,
Made with a fantastic Victorian design,
Made out of a toughened black leather,
This beautiful hat, matched her lifestyle of free,
She knew her hat was admired,
She knew her black hat held a powerful seat,
She knew her black hat had inspired,
Many folks bored with modern designs,
Her hat had a certain appeal,
It appealed against indifferent cyber filled space,
It appealed to asymmetrical real.
Sheestah was the original Steampunk Peddler woman who could.
She wandered Kansas prairies in 1873 like no female ever should.
She was an inventor, an artist, a cartoonist, and worst….
She did not do any cooking or cleaning or carry a common purse
She wore a pirate’s outfit, and she had a pirate kind of ugly buggly bird.
She sold ideas to other women which men considered rather absurd.
Sheestah talked them into trying to get the vote for their kind of course.
She got tossed out of towns for not riding in a cart or with a horse.
She is the oddest, weirdest excuse for a woman we have ever seen!
Said the jealous men who were angry her contraption ran on steam.
She invented it herself! They cried out, angry as all get out.
Some went home and put their lips out in a giant “little boy” pout.
Sheestah heard the rumors and she laughed all the way to the bank.
Her inventions brought in so much money; she had herself to thank.
She was an independent woman, a philanthropist, a thinker, tis true.
I would have loved to have known her. How about you?
Kansas City’s Renaissance Fair is fun; you can dress steampunk
Go as Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, or a Victorian Queen.
You can be a knight of the Round Table or King Arthur
It is embraced by several factions of people in Kansas City
Each year it gets bigger and more outrageously fun than the year before
The only thing I cannot stand to see is the giant turkey legs
They look pink in the middle, and yet, armies of people devour them
The grease drips down into their costumes, onto their shoulders,
Their cheeks shine with the queasiness of the giant turkey legs
It is the one thing I do not want to see, but the food my children love.
Clock work spiders are climbing up my wall ‘sticking in their nasty pins so none of them will fall,
As one of them lifts her leg and begins to spin her steel ,
another scurries closer and strums it with its heel .
wide eyed and terror struck i remembered going to bed ,
then the clever thought occurs to me
‘just test it and bang your head .
Nope I’m none the wiser ‘now definitely wide awake the mechanical spiders play too me as none of this is fake .
Dozens of them are present now ‘all shine with a metallic grace
‘ but why my room I ask myself
‘why now and why in this place ?
Segmented shining carapace’s ‘move slowly in the gloom ‘
their steel strung out of different lengths
‘lends melodics to the tune .
Tiny keys are turning that adds motion to their gears
‘the thought of what the hell’s going on ‘l
‘nearly bringing me too tears .
Should I Trust theses clockwork spiders ‘
when will their playing End ?
‘who sent them too late night serenade me
‘was it enemy or a trusted friend?
This picking arachnid blue grass
‘ was really something to see
‘terror was starting to subside ,
I was tapping gleefully.
Please don’t climb down from the wall’s
‘keep playing this wicked tune
‘if could just reach my trusted harmonica
‘I’ll join you really soon.
So there I was sat up in bed
‘the spiders kept their beat ‘
it was now time for my solo ‘ I’d better make this sweet.
scratching approval from these arachnid bots
‘was what my piece had gained
’this was becoming awesome ,this could lead to fame.
Then one by one they began to fall,
‘softly on on my bed
‘ the lack inertia for their key winding
’had ended the music dead .
No ‘I called out in grief there’s a lot more we can play ,
‘please reinstate your innerspring’s and carry on that old country way .
But the lifeless eight legged metals ‘lay still and didn’t move ‘
the time had come ‘we’d had our fun ‘
that was the conclusion of our groove .
Where had these spiders come from and how did they know too play
‘I’ll never forget their music ‘
I’ll never forget this day .
Steampunk? The old man guesses. He is past death age.
Goth laughs, understanding she has the upper hand.
I dare not add to it yet; in hologram mode, with robotic arm moves.
Green glow of a digital clock tries to chastise me.
Punish others, I think. You cannot catch me.
I like it, the old man states, less sure of himself this time.
Demons of idiocy must be driving his mouth. Why is he still here?
They are waiting for me to make a mistake.
Performance art, someone else whispers, daring to try.
I roll my eyes inside my head, silently making fun of her.
A loud cackling witch-like sound is inside my imagination.
Laughing full out.
Part of me is angry that she dared.
The other part hopes she is wrong.
For I am Type A and if Type A does not get the win,
I might as well be joining the old guy in the death coffin.
I am touching purple now, plucking out my eyes, tasting weapons.
What is your thought? The band leader asks me.
I say nothing, devouring my own soul, afraid to try.
Sheila stepped out of the mechanized gear-filled lab with her robotic dog.
her lace blouse a contrast to her steam-powered eighteenth-century hog.
Another inventor looked up gave her a quick friendly boy-next-door wave.
His invention would make robotic airships flow and cascade.
Is that another automaton? Sheila yelled at her childhood friend of forever.
He did not divulge secrets, for Sheila was exceedingly clever.
She tucked her auburn hair into a helmet from Leagues under the sea.
But she was not fooled by his quick answer, not by any degree.
these rival inventors had been steampunk friendly since twenty-twenty.
She had phenomenal forthcoming mechanics almost ready; he had plenty.
Nothing frilly or fancy about her robotics, she intended they be the best.
Jim understood this, but he still wanted to carve out for them a love nest.
Sheila had avenues to conquer, airships to build too.
Eventually he planned to make a move, for without her, life would be blue.
Sheila congratulated herself for her coolness as she rode her hog away.
She planned to make him fall in love with her, tomorrow might be the day.
In cogs and gears, her heart does beat,
A clockwork girl, both strange and sweet.
Her eyes, like polished brass, aglow,
Reflect the time, the world below.
With gears that click and springs that chime,
She measures moments, day and time.
A copper bodice, sleek and tight,
Holds secrets in the fading light.
Her hands, of bronze, a delicate dance,
Point to the hours, a fleeting glance.
A winding key, a silver thread,
Keeps her ticking, unsaid, unled.
Amidst the steam and smoke-filled air,
A whisper of her presence, rare.
The city's pulse, she knows it well,
Her clockwork heart, a silent spell.
But in her gaze, a sadness hides,
A yearning for the world outside.
To feel the warmth, the human touch,
Beyond the gears, beyond the clutch.
For though she runs, on time's own whim,
A part of her, forever dim,
Yearns for a soul, a beating heart,
To break free, from the clockwork art.
Steampunk Cat name of Charlie Boo
Thought his vices were mystery to Sue
Brought her violets in hue of blue
For it was she that Charlie wanted to woo
Sue was a savvy feline, with a keen open mind
She knew that many made fun of Charlie, which was not kind
Decided to give him a chance, for he might be a sweet find.
They were soon running to the altar, their pledges to bind.
The door opened and in slinked a persnickety cat with a pout.
She said “Charlie Boo, what to do you think you’re about?
Charlie Boo gave a whimper, a shriek and a blood gushing shout.
He was already married, you see – the big, bigamist lout.
She looks snobby, judgemental Linda said.
I observed the newcomer who looked a bit stand-offish.
But perhaps it is because I had not met her yet.
I ran up to tell her that I liked her costume.
She was pure steampunk all the way.
She was a lovely woman, ready to converse with a stranger, me.
We hit it off and sat together for that supper and next day’s lunch.
The convention lasted a week, and I saw her often.
She always smiled, waved and said “hello”.
I never thought my new friend looked or acted snobby.
But judgemental Linda is not as open to meeting new people as I am.
She wandered around alone most of that week, looking miserable.
I thought about spending time with Linda, but then I remembered
How judgemental she is, so I saved myself from her.
I am not sure how I accidentally stumbled upon the world of Steampunk,
But it is a combination of lace, leather, and metals, and a little bit funk.
It magically and freely fits people, cats, and dogs with machinery and gears.
Encourages unusual leather gloves, and holsters with no sense of fear.
There is a lot of beautiful dark brown copper piping included, and lots of mystique.
Inspired by the 1900’s, it is a whole new world, completely unique.
There are billowy white sleeves and leather adornments on both men and women
And leather belts with hooks, buckles, and gears, imagination freely given.
Whoever thought it up had imagination, a sense of fun, and talent galore.
Large round funk glasses with colored lenses look normal on top hats, which I so adore.
If you do not learn about anything else, on a dreary, cold or uninteresting day,
Look up steampunk styles, and steampunk conventions, it may make you want to join them and play.