Short Ingots Poems
Short Ingots Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ingots by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ingots by length and keyword.
Genial gold bullions of first blush town verve,
cobalt blue ingots in sky,
“rain” pavement dweller thrill
Green bus shelter cameos cordial,
sprinkle the air with glad quips,
tween the spilt coffee gulp
billowing cloud of zingy zone babble,
dispersed in hazy gallop,
yet wisps unfeigned linger
Character shall make thee
Destiny embraces me
You feel like ingots of gold
The Olympic torch to hold
You are like a strong sea wind
The heart of a lion dwells within
You build great character and spirit in men
A symphony of heroes, they know how to win
The opportunity to cast thy nets, and capture the wind
Ornaments of alabaster
Silver and golden ingots
Ruby, emerald, and diamond rings
Are oh such lovely trinkets
Many maidens they adorn
Behold their lavish luster
See them sparkle in the light
And the envy that they muster
With no mystery we covet
With no price too high to pay
The history of their grandeur
Are still cherished to this day
The charlatans bankrupted
his checking account,
but his love was not overdrawn
Each check that he wrote,
each choice that he made,
trading ingots for righting a wrong
With credit denied
and spirit affirmed,
he continued to endorse what was real
Until bankers and lawyers
destroyed with one stroke,
his wishes—their power to steal
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Humanity bankrupted
his checking account,
but his love was not overdrawn
Each check that he wrote,
each choice that he made,
trading ingots for righting a wrong
With credit denied,
and spirit affirmed,
he continued to endorse what was real
Until bankers and lawyers
destroyed with one stroke,
his wishes—their power to steal
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Raging flashes
time on fire
seconds flaming
moments pyre
Burning scepters
light betrays
torches fury
embers pray
Blind inception
blistered tongues
motion melting
boiled young
Bars of silver
chains of gold
locks of platinum
ingots stole
30 pieces
forged in lies
minted falsehoods
struck alive
Nights of crimson
skies of red
life has moltened
—ashes dead
(Dreamsleep: May, 2022)
Evening sets with self-delusion
stirring the synapses
with a steaming
cup of coffee.
A dimly lit oil lamp
shrouded in Saffron
casts the room in an amber hue
where words meld like gold
onto the page
in an alchemic blaze.
Morning rises, dispelling dreams
out of every fold of darkness
to a sterile whiteness
that turning back
such ingots
into leaden blocks of stone
I wake, both bleary eyed
and blood shot, into this failed,
pale bleak
truth of morning
John Tansey