Best Rebar Poems

Morning coffee, read the paper, brush your teeth and make the bed
Start the car up, drive to work with endless chatter in your head.
Rhythm’s just a decoy, really, structure faked for social poise
Must pretend, must feign an interest. Wouldn’t want to lose the toys.

Just ignore...

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Six days she lay beneath the rubble of concrete and debris,
Pinned down with little hope of survival, just faith that God would send help to set her free.
Six days and five nights, in total darkness, her weak voice called out but no one came,
A billion...

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Two shadows where thousands of ghosts,
Saw their last moments so high up in the air.

Everything stopped, no one could move,
They couldn't speak, they wouldn't dare.

Few ran in as others ran out,
Many died in graves of rebar and concrete.

Too many were never found,
Too many never walked...

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Alacrity bespeaks entangled, entombed,
     and entrapped Thai soccer team
diminishing strength barely allows,
     but a whispered scream,

which rescue against all odds
     (plucked out cavernous catacomb),
     fast becoming a fading dream
vicariously...

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I still walk your streets
		for the untended curb,
		the flattened can,
		the half-opened shade.
		I am in the dark,
		unspilled light,
		uninspected.
		I am caught 
		in the city of cautious regard.
		I am not violent
		but I wonder what it would take
		to crack the cement
		and bend the rebar
		to let a man out....

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Redding Poem 4
“Flying Down Interstate 5”

We departed Redding at 3:45, 
In the dead of an October night.
Those tumultuous streets were morgues then,
As we raced to the deserted Interstate 5,
Zooming across the snoozing Sacramento River,
Going at a constant speed of 85, 
Passing the snoring cities of...

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It is the only time we get to laugh at black
So de rigeur at funerals and stogy old photography.
Take Dixie Land at home in New Orleans
Parading back of happy brass from marble sculpted sepulchers.

A  mansion in mirage, a wavy misty rambling of rooms.
Their mirrors:...

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your face polaroid happy glowing not half so distant.
     
    walking over to grab the shovel and rain filled 
    bucket near the gravel driveway. 

    i watch your hands digging quickly...

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Catholic

Stern but saintly Father Meissen 
scolded the parents for not having 
their baby boy baptized sooner. 
It was April, 1952,
inside the stained-glassed catholic church,
ensconced on sun-split Newlin street, 
avenue of pink oleanders and cracking sidewalks.
According to the chagrined mother, 
she was told that delaying this...

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Mostly it's just gluing bones together
ones found in a well furrowed field
a scattering of empty joints,
undetectable until tripped over.

An iron-age rebar
can be dug for
it will girder one socket to another.

The framework reconstructs itself
emptiness becomes whole
yet still see through.

There are sharp edges and blunt sounds,
they will...

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A LITTLE LAUGHTER FIVE

Betty bring venom
Curly bimbo lemon thigh

Rogue queen Jacky Denim
Vague swoon droll, droll, untie

Ninja gnome Rebar watch
Makes ramen bacon olive sushi pizza

Spoon vying maple onion grass gumbo-bauch
Jimmy heard Kathy cryin meets munch
Liter laugh fived break bread

Quick syrup cocoa  sweet drink
Betty think droll...

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Gray clouds open for business at five
Pour out concrete with rebar rusted 
Along with asphalt for a nice touch
Steel never felt so good under construction
Building a better tomorrow on solid nothing

As guard rails pile up on each side of life
Something hard is falling from the...

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What I know 
to be true,
the proven facts,
sit like anchored stones
in a wild river. 
Here, my steps
are certain, placed firm 
on a familiar stone.
Other times I tread
with faith, a fashioned,
well worn hope
held together 
with a rebar of reason. 
Both get me across.

But it's the unknown
that...

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I was killed by a woman.
Mary C Tripp.
She now lies with me in my grave.
How ironic?
She stabbed me through my heart with a Bowie knife.
Shortly thereafter ended my life,
but it almost didn't go that way.
I was ready to kill her to defend my own life...

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And here we  receive his hugs and
      groping
grasps,
We are    here
      standing around,
      waiting –
      now used to the spectacle
  ...

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