Pump Poems - Poems about Pump

well drill baby drill the earth’s but a glory hole~ digging our own grave ...

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Did you go to the gym the Poet asked Or just write weakened the verse untasked The vowels and consonants stay unflexed With words atrophic — their muscles vexed (The New Room: December, 2024)...

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The clown, yes, a clown, she did stop for gas. Surprised, yes, I was. I saw her through glass. With sparkle of hues, And squeak of her shoes, The clown, yes, a clown, did step out for gas....

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So far, the reddest river But does not flow forever: A coursing through enclosures Vessels furnishing closures… For journeys should Heart Pump thank: They would cease, if The Heart Sank To be left a congealed mass While owners eyes ‘doomed shut glass…’ Lots of information stores, Not the same a saint’s and a whore’s; Medics who checked the river Could pick out one with fever… Many things...

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Pump on, lest death may play its part, with weight of sin or righteousness. It is not ours, this beating heart. Indeed, when schemes may fall apart, though souls be gripped by frightfulness. Pump on, lest death may play its part. And though the wiles of a sweetheart, her leave to cause much woefulness. It is not ours, this beating heart. Or when death...

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Ram pump going ka-thunk, ka-thunk Water flowing ka-thunk, ka-thunk Rain’s not slowing ka-thunk, ka-thunk Spray still throwing ka-thunk, ka-thunk It’s good knowing ka-thunk, ka-thunk Uphill rowing ka-thunk, ka-thunk Still mind-blowing ka-thunk, ka-thunk Summer growing ka-thunk, ka-thunk Berries showing ...

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Looking at the need They devolved the means to which they Would...

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A very crucial thing this is, this part of the greater whole It hides, quiet, in the wings, so vital this thing Never seen yet works so hard, does its job, day after day Circulating, delivering, controlling the demands Sometimes we need slow, or fast, it is taken for granted And then it ages, develops flaws, performance gone So, we slow...

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Pumping water out of the Florida grounds. Is more complex than you think it sounds. For over forty years a team has tackled it. Growing and scaling a service that’s legit. Old fashioned morals that are rare to see. They’re emphasizing satisfaction and quality. High integrity and standards to avoid a fight. By only billing customers for a job done right. There’s no...

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THE SILENT PUMP ORGAN This wooden brown spinet… it waits in a back room in this Clovis museum till someone can fix it. Played at a home or church? Its last song? How long must it stay voiceless, its last song played in a home or church, till someone can fix it? In this Clovis museum, it waits in a back room, this wooden brown spinet. This...

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Trump the Pump Truck Driver By Franklin Price 11/09/2019 Trump is who we see he is, doesn't practice to deceive Won the plumbing job, three years ago, was elected to receive All the piled up defecation that was spread throughout the land He has unclogged the toilets and the flushing's not so grand Took the top off of the septic tank, it's...

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Water Hand Pump I wonder whence the pipe goes? Underground Niagra, Mississippi or Caspian Sea? Working the Up-Down Handle like Punching a PIN, A Subterranean ATM of Cool Crystal Quench, Sometimes the Handle Ignores Rapid Work, Just as Licking a Stamp, I Have to Prime, Give to Get, Down Goes Wet, Up Comes Sublime, As If Sensient, What Goes Around, It Understands, Physics Doesn't...

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turn up the stereo so everyone goes to hear the song of lil Pump know bust up the beat to promote its tempo take you to places you need to go flirting with fire coming down to the wire a gun for hire calling him a liar the steets are uneasy the flames are just as strong cause Turtle Wax...

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If your gas tank is empty, Unless you're inept, You can fill it yourself In all places except... Oregon and New Jersey Where you're not allowed. If you tried, you would certainly Be disavowed. It's a mystery why Such a law's on the books. Likely some politician's In debt to some crooks. So when I'm in New Jersey, In gas lines I'm stuck. Though the prices are better, It's not...

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Countless hours I've spent, thinking about you and me. Wandering thoughts, racing mind, about what we could be. For so long I've held on, to the thought we'd be together. There were no troubles or worries, no storm we couldn't weather. Countless words on notebook paper, my heart I poured to you. Pages and pages you were my muse, but...

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