Smokestack Poems | Examples

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Like Root Beer Diamonds

Like Root Beer Diamonds

smokestack lightning on the pomona freeway
plays their twangy sound brimming with desire
tan mexican cheerleader rides in a ’46 chevy
passing neon hamburger stands in walnut city
passing the silver taco trucks parked on main
they clang like bells in a distant temple of god
she say she want pozole beans and coca cola
her brown eyes sparkle like root beer diamonds 
her dark skin enfolds me with unimagined force
the stars above my cruising machine wink at us
they know of our holy genuflections in the dark
the ‘46 chevy parks at javier’s mexican canteen 
smokestack lightning plays their twangy sound 
plays it on 8 track plastic brimming with desire
her sweet salsa voice puts my soul in handcuffs 
her straight white teeth and wet lips enslave me
we sit close at a back table in the dim darkness
her brown eyes sparkle like root beer diamonds

Cajun Queen, New Orleans

Riverboat on the Mississippi
Folks dining on scrimp, grits, and cornbread
Drinking booze and gambling like crazy
Going to Bourbon Street just ahead

Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans

The big paddle wheel keeps on rolling
Down to the Cajun Queen of the Gulf
Where the real money is unfolding
And a thousand green bucks is small stuff

Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans


The big paddle wheel keeps on churning
Black coal keeps that steam boiler humming
Noxious fumes from the smokestack blowing
Nightlife on Bourbon Street is jumping


Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans


Cathedral spires standing very tall
Off Canal, near downtown Bourbon Street
Near a hotel by a shopping mall
Where folk are getting some daytime sleep

Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans


They wait for night, ‘til just after dark,
To find the places of blues, jazz, and rap
A swamp of raunchy acts, joints, and bars
Folk can get caught like mice in a trap

Down in that Cajun Queen, New Orleans

world war 3

World War 3


When war again breaks out in Europe
and the culture that was, is a smokestack 
that drifts in foul air
Not that art matters, if any survives, they
will be busy finding food and shelter
the winter will be long and hard, Britain
will be a hole in the sea, fir for fish,
I will seek sanctuary in Ushuaia, the most
southerly place in Argentine
It was there a world-famous violinist fled
when during a concert, lost his trousers
and Europe laughed.
a place where two great oceans collide
clearing the air and foul debris
I will visit the violinist to see if he still
plays, and if he has no radio tell him of
the tragedy, if he feels sorry for Europe
he is a good man, but if he gleefully laugh
his embarrassment has made him bitter.

When We Took a Trip Horn Haiku and Others

When We Took a Trip
Horn Haiku

when we took a trip
we were given a great tip
should go on a ship

she gave me some slack
instead we stayed in a shack
with black smokestack in back

when we went to game
bad players had been the blame
would be such a shame

ate big piece of pie
keep off table I did try
got some in my eye

with them made amends
brought back family and friends
their suffering ends
 
when the news was seen
had created such a scene
people there were mean

while under blue sky
avoid Trump again did try
when he caught my eye

when grabbed by the throat
she had wanted us to vote
in boat sail to Shallotte

when we would scurry
famous person did bury
we had to hurry

when this was the last
poem that I wrote in the past
often would procaste

what in past had found
no longer want Trump around
hard to bare his sound

Start Mischief

Not too much to say I’ll keep it concise,
just stuff that energy inside my hat; 
There is trouble in witch’s paradise;
But as they say I’ve got a spell for that;

I may seem to be a bit mild mannered,
do not discount the fire in my cauldron;
Magick always runs by its own standard,
the heart of the caster simply stirs on;

Sending chaos will ensure it comes back,
receiving no less than equal treatment;
This is not just filling up a smokestack,
what I said is exactly what I meant;

Be kind and you will know what is coming, 
start mischief that is what you are getting.

Smoke Stack Lightning

Wooòt woooo
Wooot  woooo

Hear my train comin'  watch the
Hope spew from that smokestack 
Oh watch that locomotion  comin'
Round the curve 

Wooot  woooo she got nerve
See that smokestack  shinnin'
Brightly  like a BOLT OF LIGHTNIN'
STRICKIN'!  listen to her singin'  on
The track  
I'm  boardin' the 1137 to 
New York  City  keep your self 
Pretty  'til I get back 

I'm tellin'  you like it is  tellin'  you
Where it's  at  there ain't  gonna be
No change in me only charm 
listen to my train

Pullin'  in, look at  that  solid  gold
Smokestack  the engine too see the 
Moon Beamin' brimmin' with  love 
For this locomotive 

Don't  cry I'll  be back one day 
Ridin'  this bright  new train  I'm 
Goin'  all the way yeah! look at that 
Smoke risin'
Here i come New York  City!

I'm comin'  to play at the COTTON.
Sprinklin'  trumpet  notes everywhere I go

Shinnin'  Brightly such like a bolt of
Lightnin' strikin'!
That's the smokestack Jack
Look at that baby function 
Woooot  woooo 
Bye bye New  Orleans 

Farewell bay bee  Farewell 
And all that  Jazz!
Woooot woooo

Cosmos Dreamt

A groovy many galactic bodies circle the sun. 
Yet wandering almost, different stars spun. 
Wander aimlessly, sobbing in sorrow.
Memories weep tears as we gently harrow.

Men are obsessed with their dignity.
Dread losing it as they acquire it utterly. 
Peas are picked under an extreme storm. 
Rain is falling on the smokestack form.

In adoration, trust requires alert and reserve. 
It guarantees any other freedom swerve. 
We ought to be watchful while looking for our mates. 
Since applying one's will is frequently relates.

Thunder is heard at night when the sky is lit.
It's lenient to imagine how loud squeals can hit.

Bird By Rehab

They unload life’s lead
into unseen enemies
machine gun memories
flying rapid fire
recollections and musings
spent shells amassing
mental turbines spinning
smoking the room.

And they yawn and doodle
ink stains for amusement
their purpose loosened
without caffeine courage
meetings adjourned
aimless wandering down
immaculate hallways
wounded reflections
in thoughtless pursuit
of quiet relief.

And they nod gingerly
with grim understanding
lives in the balance
teetering on a wire
as the bird careens
by the smokestack
somehow in
silent recognition
of lives interrupted.


(click on picture for Angst & Anger)

Up In Smoke

truth steeped in lies is no truth at all - wind collaborates with smokestack

3/27/2019

Trump and Terrible Barrel

Trump and Terrible Barrel

Trump can hardly sing Christmas carol;
While his whole life has been in imperil,
And a lost cause,
With small, paws;
Someone even said his voice was sterile.

Jim Horn

We have heard another wise crack;
Trump then referred to token black,
And usual style;
Only one compile;
His house is shack with smokestack.

Picture This

Picture This

Your body contains eight hundred
Trillion trillion Carbon  atoms.
And that’s not just 
Hyperbolic hype! 

What is even more astounding is…
That one in eight of those carbon atoms
Recently was expelled as pollution
From a smokestack or exhaust pipe!

(adapted from the book “YOUR ATOMIC SELF” by Curt Stager)

Winter Walk

Floating in the river, there are
Chunks and bits of ice,
Lazily meandering,
Their journey imprecise.

The water’s gray, the sky is blue;
A smokestack bellows white.
An early morning winter walk
Such eyeings do invite.

The promenade belongs to me;
Manhattan’s yet to stir.
The neighborhood is mine alone;
The pigeons would concur.

Augustinian Chronicle

Feelings of despair dredged from the murky dephths of my past
Hoisted through my corroded conscience's porthole
Reconnoitering barge of restitution pushes despondent thoughts through my inner being
Then tows the shame and guilt of my depraved condition to mind's hatch 
The murky dross of yesterday's sins seeps deep into my addled psche
The residual guilt oppresses my soul
The brackish bilge of cankerous jealousies trolls through my grieving spirit
My trembling hands grasp the anchor of remorse but slip into the deeper moor of penance
Earlier missteps have my struggling feet sinking ever deeper in the quicksand of hopelessness
The smokestack spews nautious fumes from the froward deeds of my virile youth
My shaky rudder teeters as the raw sewage of past debauchery overwhelms my senses
Sailing my sinking yacht to the edge of sanity and rational existence
Carried along by the unsettling currents of inconstancy and vacillation
Docking in the harbor of reclamation and recompense

Melancholy Sound

Standing on the top of the cliffs, overlooking : Melancholy Sound 
         The ominous black whistle of a Fairy tale; Princess Cruise Ship
In the light of blind LOVE, a smokestack wails as the smell of Death ; Abounds
       The groaning ebony whistle, evaporates into the Portals of the past
Leaving the image of Everlasting LOVE written in the sky by the Golden Rays of the Sun
                         I walk away leaving my Reminiscing  behind

             Inspired by Janette Fisher’s Contest : “ Sounds Familiar “

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