Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
South-by-SouthwestPoems
Tennessee Coal and Iron Ensley Works , Birmingham , Alabama Ensley Highlands , 30th Street A turn of the century wood framed house , sitting high on top a hill Sitting on the front porch swing in the sweltering August evening air Playing "Your car next" , as cars ran up and down the hill Swapping turns , who gets what , laughing at some of the outrageous wheels Then as darkness descends the dark skyline turns to Hell Jets of forced blast air hits molten iron and the gush of flames shoot high into the air Eleven , twelve , maybe more all the blast furnaces roared as sparks flew up into the smoke Surely these are the Devil's works Where men are tortured so As this for a backdrop now it was time for ghost stories galore Headless people and black drabbed ghouls and little girls dripping wet that drowned in some unforgiving lake We would draw up knees to our chest in spite of the oppressive heat And I would jump every time the breeze would rustle the hidden leaves So scared were we as bedtime neared we'd ask mother if we could spend "the night with you" Ha ha ha , she replied , "NO !" And then she went Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo !
0
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 2:47 AM UTC
Blast Furnace Summer's Night
Tennessee Coal and Iron Ensley Works , Birmingham , Alabama Ensley Highlands , 30th Street A turn of the century wood framed house , sitting high on top a hill Sitting on the front porch swing in the sweltering August evening air Playing "Your car next" , as cars ran up and down the hill Swapping turns , who gets what , laughing at some of the outrageous wheels Then as darkness descends the dark skyline turns to Hell Jets of forced blast air hits molten iron and the gush of flames shoot high into the air Eleven , twelve , maybe more all the blast furnaces roared as sparks flew up into the smoke Surely these are the Devil's works Where men are tortured so As this for a backdrop now it was time for ghost stories galore Headless people and black drabbed ghouls and little girls dripping wet that drowned in some unforgiving lake We would draw up knees to our chest in spite of the oppressive heat And I would jump every time the breeze would rustle the hidden leaves So scared were we as bedtime neared we'd ask mother if we could spend "the night with you" Ha ha ha , she replied , "NO !" And then she went Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo ! Boo !
#ghost#stories#august#bat#furnace#blast
South-by-Southwest
Written by
South-by-Southwest
75/M/Birmingham , Alabama
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 2:47 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem