Steampunk Poetry
#steampunk
Steampunk poetry, poems featuring steampunk themes, styles and ideas. Steampunk genre science fiction poems use historical settings, featuring steam-powered machinery, rather than advanced technology.
NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
Poem Published
17th Jan 2021 4:49am
17th Jan 2021 4:49am
MORBID DARKNESS
MORBID DARKNESS
WRITTEN BY NANCY RDZ LL
1-16-21
Morbid darkness to its true evil state of aggression.
The credible state of expression
A lost soul within a black cat
That always looks back
Cause it never shirks where it started at
It'll haunt and taunt what it wants to harm
But...
Don't be surprised,
If you wake with deep scratches on your arm
"Remember," not to feel alarmed....
hahaha...
No where could you ever hide
But...
WRITTEN BY NANCY RDZ LL
1-16-21
Morbid darkness to its true evil state of aggression.
The credible state of expression
A lost soul within a black cat
That always looks back
Cause it never shirks where it started at
It'll haunt and taunt what it wants to harm
But...
Don't be surprised,
If you wake with deep scratches on your arm
"Remember," not to feel alarmed....
hahaha...
No where could you ever hide
But...
#nightmares
#steampunk
598 reads
5 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
18th Sep 2020 8:21am
18th Sep 2020 8:21am
the illusion
The Illusion
I met a group of people I vaguely thought familiar
after a while it came to me and said, you are
the same people I met 15 years ago, glad laughter
we wondered if you had forgotten us.
I was baffled an old dream had produced a new one
or was there no past it all happens now.
Or did our lives had two levels one that is conscious
has a sunrise, and one we only see by accident like
someone had forgotten to lock the door.
Got up from the table and bid farewell, have to go
take the train to the valley where I once was a...
I met a group of people I vaguely thought familiar
after a while it came to me and said, you are
the same people I met 15 years ago, glad laughter
we wondered if you had forgotten us.
I was baffled an old dream had produced a new one
or was there no past it all happens now.
Or did our lives had two levels one that is conscious
has a sunrise, and one we only see by accident like
someone had forgotten to lock the door.
Got up from the table and bid farewell, have to go
take the train to the valley where I once was a...
#apocalypse
#mythology
#luck
#nightmares
#steampunk
373 reads
2 Comments
God-Is-In-The-Rain
Gregory Rain
Gregory Rain
Poem Published
12th Aug 2020 9:04pm
12th Aug 2020 9:04pm
Mechanics Prayer
concrete hills and rainbow pills
mind's just husk the body fills
copper vines on stainless pines
waves of ash with asbestos signs
plastic reefs and golden leaves
bend under the misty breeze
there rose from brass is hissing sass
on things that come and quickly pass
so my friends; once our shift ends
and rust will ask US out to dance
we'll turn to dust along our past
but others will do what we must
Let's sing our prayers, let's sing our praise
so they will ours, so next will theirs
to pipes and beams - the veins...
mind's just husk the body fills
copper vines on stainless pines
waves of ash with asbestos signs
plastic reefs and golden leaves
bend under the misty breeze
there rose from brass is hissing sass
on things that come and quickly pass
so my friends; once our shift ends
and rust will ask US out to dance
we'll turn to dust along our past
but others will do what we must
Let's sing our prayers, let's sing our praise
so they will ours, so next will theirs
to pipes and beams - the veins...
#steampunk
456 reads
4 Comments
scarletegret
Sasha Fenn
Sasha Fenn
Poem Published
15th Jul 2020 9:19pm
15th Jul 2020 9:19pm
Bridgemind
You pick your way carefully across the scoria and anthracite, the relay weighing heavily on your back, playing havoc with your center of gravity.
“You're almost into the deadfield.” says Majinn. “You remember your programming?”
A bit of coal crumbles into a silent drift down the hill behind you, where your hivemates, two hundred and fifty-five strong, march in slow, small beats.
“Synthia?”
“Yeah, Majinn. I copy.” You reach the summit, looking out across the dregs of the Greasemarsh. “I can see the hovercraft from here. Looks bigger than you...
“You're almost into the deadfield.” says Majinn. “You remember your programming?”
A bit of coal crumbles into a silent drift down the hill behind you, where your hivemates, two hundred and fifty-five strong, march in slow, small beats.
“Synthia?”
“Yeah, Majinn. I copy.” You reach the summit, looking out across the dregs of the Greasemarsh. “I can see the hovercraft from here. Looks bigger than you...
#prose
#steampunk
#scifi
455 reads
0 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
9th Feb 2020 3:18pm
9th Feb 2020 3:18pm
My Mechanical Heart
I think it was circa eighteen forty something,
When I woke up from the operating table,
The good doctor told me “Congratulations!
Now you can do anything if you’re willing and able.”
I gazed around the operating room,
Which looked like a watch maker’s workstation,
I thought the man was more of a mad scientist,
A nihilist when he told me I was his latest creation.
“I’ve given you something special” he said,
“You can have a long, long life if you desire,
You are unique in many ways but don’t forget,
To wind your gears...
When I woke up from the operating table,
The good doctor told me “Congratulations!
Now you can do anything if you’re willing and able.”
I gazed around the operating room,
Which looked like a watch maker’s workstation,
I thought the man was more of a mad scientist,
A nihilist when he told me I was his latest creation.
“I’ve given you something special” he said,
“You can have a long, long life if you desire,
You are unique in many ways but don’t forget,
To wind your gears...
#love
#loneliness
#science #steampunk
#science #steampunk
883 reads
8 Comments
gonezalo
Poem Published
15th Sep 2019 4:45am
15th Sep 2019 4:45am
cold or not, god is present
springing from one base to next,
sunday weather played tag with me
flitting up sunnyside
as mist turned to showers
i squirreled beneath
douglas fir and concrete
shivered off wet opals
from my arm hairs
as gusts susurrated
around corners and branches,
the laughs of low clouds
who knew they won.
“haha, it got ya;
that’s portland for ya—
no one expects it,”
he said, an untucked prussian shirt,
buscemi smile, horseshoe of whiskers
harnessed to his scalp
by an unshaven...
sunday weather played tag with me
flitting up sunnyside
as mist turned to showers
i squirreled beneath
douglas fir and concrete
shivered off wet opals
from my arm hairs
as gusts susurrated
around corners and branches,
the laughs of low clouds
who knew they won.
“haha, it got ya;
that’s portland for ya—
no one expects it,”
he said, an untucked prussian shirt,
buscemi smile, horseshoe of whiskers
harnessed to his scalp
by an unshaven...
#steampunk
517 reads
3 Comments
gonezalo
Poem Published
7th Sep 2019 11:06am
7th Sep 2019 11:06am
empathy
on knee-high stone wall
a patient with bandaged leg
sits, crutches in hand,
watching a pigeon hopping
at his feet, its one stump raised.
a patient with bandaged leg
sits, crutches in hand,
watching a pigeon hopping
at his feet, its one stump raised.
#steampunk
489 reads
2 Comments
gonezalo
Poem Published
22nd Aug 2019 7:42am
22nd Aug 2019 7:42am
commute
the 3 groans to a stop
at jefferson & 9th
takes a long drag of its e-cig caternary
in front of the trauma center
the collonade of passengers
in the middle aisle
parts
and, between their sagged
shoulders
glossy
eyes and half-shut eyelids
their bodies swaying
waves coming ashore
only to be
dragged
hissing
back into the sea,
steps through a 30-something moses...
at jefferson & 9th
takes a long drag of its e-cig caternary
in front of the trauma center
the collonade of passengers
in the middle aisle
parts
and, between their sagged
shoulders
glossy
eyes and half-shut eyelids
their bodies swaying
waves coming ashore
only to be
dragged
hissing
back into the sea,
steps through a 30-something moses...
#steampunk
520 reads
5 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
8th Apr 2019 11:05am
8th Apr 2019 11:05am
what+ No moon
What, no moon
Where is the moon
it was here last night
the heaven looks like a blank canvas
not even a star to break its ennui
there are many heavens, the near one
the outer one and the one
beyond the horizon it is there
but we lack the vision
if you wake up in a dark bedroom
keep your eyes closed
you can see the astrosphere
and be close to the creator.
Where is the moon
it was here last night
the heaven looks like a blank canvas
not even a star to break its ennui
there are many heavens, the near one
the outer one and the one
beyond the horizon it is there
but we lack the vision
if you wake up in a dark bedroom
keep your eyes closed
you can see the astrosphere
and be close to the creator.
#apocalypse
#steampunk
#dystopian
#scifi
#curse
431 reads
0 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
13th Feb 2019 6:29pm
13th Feb 2019 6:29pm
locomotion
(relic)
muse
of the
museum
elegant
white
elephant
brain
drain
train
remnant speck
for new
spectators
commotion
without
emotion
busted
and rusted
notion
without devotion
gone loco
without motion
muse
of the museum
sick muse
without music...
© Copyright 2019 February 13
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
muse
of the
museum
elegant
white
elephant
brain
drain
train
remnant speck
for new
spectators
commotion
without
emotion
busted
and rusted
notion
without devotion
gone loco
without motion
muse
of the museum
sick muse
without music...
© Copyright 2019 February 13
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
#steampunk
637 reads
8 Comments
Nari
Laura Jean
Laura Jean
Poem Published
5th Feb 2019 5:02am
5th Feb 2019 5:02am
Steam Punk 2
Steam Punk 2
#culture
#technology
#gothic #steampunk
#gothic #steampunk
838 reads
0 Comments
Nari
Laura Jean
Laura Jean
Poem Published
5th Feb 2019 1:31am
5th Feb 2019 1:31am
Steam Punk
Steam Punk
#conflict
#erotic
#redemption
#historical
#steampunk
1247 reads
DU Poetry : Steampunk Poetry
