Power Station Poems - Poems about Power Station

...To all of my loves, I'm nothing but a greying power station. They're not interested in me or my well being I'm not sure if they ever were. They come at me with endless barbed babble have littl......

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... A tall, chain wire fence surrounds the perimeter of the power station, casting its evening shadow over a wide bank of grass leading down to the river. Sometimes I sit there just to listen to......

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... There are times when I long to move beyond the edges of myself as when, this morning, alongside the power station fence, I passed under a red cloud of bottlebrush flowers dripping nectar i......

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...Ukraine is putting up a brave fight and is not giving in A two finger salute to that murderer, Vladimar Putin For eight months now they've held out in their cities Dispite missiles, murder, r......

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...Moulded electric plugs, go to landfill the earlier ones were sectional and re-useable, Copper tanks kept water Hot all day; maybe two days, if they were bigger.' They were removed in the interests......

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...1.Pockets of air. 2.Roaring gusts in critique. 3.Swirling leaves. I'll build a concession stand here immediately. I knew one day you'd get proactive. I just thought it'd be, you know- maybe liqu......

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...The way you decode your words MR professor to those ambitious students in your class And with that so called lecturing you drop a big mass on their path and by keep reminding them their stupidity, ......

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...A blanket of warmth cossets us with calm. The grey of sky & sea melts & meets, ......

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...FOUR LOVE AFFAIRS The French health food shop Near Vasilyastrovskaya metro, With a tiny patio garden bench - Fell in love there with the language of the French. Closed now for property dev......

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...Tuesday 17th 1998. Escape… I felt an atomic bomb erupt from within me, as I the being I am raged an unending battle against the person that is I. My internal thoughts betraying my external actio......

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...We didn't go abroad this year, we had our summer holiday Here in the UK where it had rained all summer long. We scuba dived in the sea but it was dead, devoid of all Life; we walked the coastal pa......

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...Graffiti on an old rusty train I see this through my kitchen window And globs of dripping dropping rain A field house light shines at night like a little flame There is a golf course beyond ......

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...the chimney stacks of the old power station claws at the belly of the clouds and with its sulfurous billowing it bellows its stench tinting the clouds, yellowing nicotine stains as its cadavero......

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...Dust descending fills my ears and nose: small stones loosened from the soft rock bleed our faces and our arms...... the smell of this cellar the drought of this cellar the echoing sound of th......

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...Throughout the Oxford countryside, Ubiquitous. You cannot miss That chimney or those cooling towers, Dubbed “cloud machines” by local kids. Fuelled by coal, this power station, Condemned to d......

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