Short Piston Poems

Time

This piston drives, lives, dies
Call it time, it survives


Poem – Time- created by: Earl Schumacker 
on 10/11/14 for - In Its Essence- Poetry Contest...

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Encroached By A Roach

Encroached by a roach
Those insects which we do dread,
Who we wish were dead.  

Jim Horn

Roach with piston which will cock,
To me sounds like a bunch of crock....

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Going to church on Sunday doesn't make you a Christian
Any more than standing in a garage make you a piston
This made me cackle
Like a happy jackal
Then walked into a lion's den and it made me a chicken...

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Limerick: Once a Barrister hired a Spinster

Once a Barrister hired a Spinster
To work his pump short of a sphincter
She bought piston and nuts
Fixed up the leaking guts
Then Spinster married Barrister’s sister.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013...

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Mighty engine wayward theme
piston rods ejecting steam
vibrant alive this the motion
from city town to the ocean
long gone now the huff and puff
screaming whistle growls and gruff
enduring rhyme upon the track
rhythm of the clickety clack.

© Harry J Horsman  2010...

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Is your pen fully loaded,
  is the piston pulled back

Are the words of high-caliber,
  is your target intact

Does intention self load, 
  does conviction re-sight

Will the ink run like blood 
 —when you fire in the night

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)...

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Nigel likes to talk about planes
And trains and motorbikes.
He has a few friends
Who like the same.
I say to him: "Why does the piston go up and down?"
He tells me,
But I don't really understand.
I go back to my poetry books
And let my imagination soar.
While Nigel gets on his bike and makes it roar....

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With his Arms 

With grasping shovel parts 
he clasped her stiffened frame
with piston arms locked upon
a body shocked through love
Tenderness approached and won
and soon her will was broken
his chest so firm was stroked
as unsaid words were passed
with bed sheets holding secrets 
of one night lovers reign...

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The mask's that unmask unbridled seems of gold
All wrapped in sullen shrouds of matted purple 
Manifest my dreams driven by engines with plumes of wantoned steam
Following the piston leader score there sleeves in disbelief
1, 2, 3, 4 mesmerized by the coal that glow morphing into embers
Till not a solitary soul can remember...

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Its September
Where is your rain muse ?
weve got our Autumn
I'm drawing a line
on Summer past
like some bedraggled piston
its  chore has gone
The buddleia is slightly drawn
and the red roses have died down
The Fern tree is re-splendid
in its promise
potted under my Robina
and weve got our spinach to grow
for spring...

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Rednecks make parts in the basement 
They've mastered piston emplacement
They'll bore out a block
To be bigger than stock
Displacement has no replacement

Author's note.  A really great guy in the office has a classic '67 Firebird
that will go really fast and has fun taking it to car shows in the area.
This is part of American culture. Yahoooo!...

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Lost out of the picture,
fallen out of life,
cut-eyed shut down

from all the cars and trains
and all this carrying and breaking
and lines of words without spaces.

You breathe softly, regular,
as if in a deep wood,
as paced as a slow piston

in exile to yourself,
a half life turned inside

as if the strings that
could lift you
hang loose in the sunlight....

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