Best Welding Poems
ONE WORD~
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my veins,
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night
Cool air beneath and above the sea
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing
Up ahead in a virtue distance
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again
Twilight, rain stranger than strange
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture
"From the red Heaven, I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"
Perhaps this venerable moment will pass slower than slow
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept and then decline
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?
When I no longer value the values of the young
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart
They're the voices give and take from our health
Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria
UNITY!
UNITY! Like a common curse
Always, wanting more than love can touch
We are living it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips
Prisoners and doers;
All night…. Too late for a treatment
Lungs, decaying, evil rats
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________
By: PD
Categories:
welding, abuse, analogy, art, corruption,
Form:
Epic
It is in the blowing of winds and thoughts-
In the Fragments of coherence.
Beauty swings. Laughter slides.
The sun-tanned sands of time crawl
In metaphorical rhythm.
Meaning floats like a dawn-lingering fog.
Damp yet almost non-existent. Gentle yet
At times blurring.
I wonder about anything and everything- childishly curious.
Playgrounds.
Streets that extend in front of my eyes like
Darkness at midnight.
A blend of happenings.
A welding of perception.
A farrago of senselessness.
I am compelled to question every word
That comes to mind
And then follow this uncertainty
By inquisitive why’s.
Wings flutter. Shadows reflect on opposite surfaces.
Distances. One might think of speed.
Time.
The ever-turning carousel-
Time...
Red freckles that eventually sink into the wrinkled
Oceans of time.
Time that brings with it only more time...
Clocks that tick..
Bells that chime...
Smiles..voices..
Mishappenings and rhyme
That only add to the dusty
Contents of memory.
Categories:
welding, introspection
Form:
Free verse
Just as a ship sails into its port
You found me and sailed into mine
A long awaited conclusion you are
A jewel so rare and so fine
The wonder is that you would give
Your world to me and more.
Without any hesitation you bring
Your love right through my door.
Now my long journey comes to a close.
And a beautiful new one starts.
This joining of our souls begins
the welding of our hearts.
So come with me my sweetest dream.
My fervent wish's been granted.
So lost in love like angels we'll fly.
And travel this world enchanted.
written 9/20/2010
Categories:
welding, devotion, love, me, world,
Form:
Rhyme
The beautiful arks flashes
While molting metal slashes
Diving deep into my flesh
I reach for a much needed breath
As poisonous fumes fill my lungs
A welders passion threw my veins it runs
So i reach down deep for i em a welder i will not retreat
I've gained my respect
Standpipe conductors wellheads 7018 i inject
Welding all day and under a full moon light
I send a prayer that lord gives me the might
Weeks months away from home
Hearing little voices only threw a phone
I promised to make a better life for y'all
I em a Texas rig welder I'm ready for any rig call
Categories:
welding, business, devotion, father, i
Form:
Does it not shimmer to the shine, the steel blade
Of dead reckonings ultimate design, cold is
Its fine edged point, a slicing masterpiece,
Of revolutionary engineering, behold deaths
Chopping silver anvil, the guillotine!
Polished by rags dipped crimson blood,
Washed by virgin waters of the fallen innocent,
From the martyr to the beggar thief,
It mattered not, to this abomination of
Humanities creation.
It wished nothing more except to be fed,
The head stones of the living, reveling in their
Screams of pain, and savoring the victims liquid
River of bodily fluids of terrors anguish.
A flashing chopping block, held and fastened,
By two wooden beams, apparatuses executioner,
Welding a suspended sword of destiny, at a
Ropes pivot center of weights mass,
Of crime or injustice!
The hooded condemned kneel underneath this,
Metal toothed demonic demon, praying
Their deaths to be swift, begging God
For salvation's intervention, but the beast
Awaits hungrily, demanding his tributes prize,
A bloody sacrifice of flesh and bone!
It almost seems to be a living entity,
Waiting, anticipating the carnage that is
To come, as the celebrating crowds gather.
Death’s grim reaper, kicks over the bags
Of weighted sand, just then the biting
Giant hammer clamps down, the final cut is done,
And the head basket of doom, is full at last!
The kindred brethren of the now deceased,
Yell hurray at this gruesome grandiose display,
Of carnages dismemberment and bloody
Theatrics, applauding for more!
Does it not shimmer to the shine, the steel blade
Of dead reckonings ultimate design, cold is
Its fine edged point, a slicing masterpiece,
Of revolutionary engineering, behold deaths
Chopping silver anvil, the guillotine!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
welding, halloween, history, holiday, imagery,
Form:
Free verse
Four season state
Humid with frozen
Organic and dairy
To moving forward
Cows and fraccing
Cheeses and metal
Cranberry bogging
Furniture vendors
Lumber years past
Nature its center
Those unmentioned
Always remembered
Any native spirit
Without exception
Packers call home
Barging on rivers
Schooling Badgers
Big river brother
Paper and welding
Milling and ships
One Midwest state
Wisconsin working
Categories:
welding, places,
Form:
Rhyme
SPLINTERED HEART
like a leg severed, ripped loose:
the phantom limb throbs and aches
knowing yet unwilling, unable to accept
that it's only a ghost playing evil pranks
sitting frozen and paralytic
from the weight, the frightful weight
dragging, forcing down the head
welding chin to collarbone...
heavy, crushing feeling on the chest
punishing pressure on the heart
a heart at the point of imploding...
alarm clock crying, screaming:
time warp between sleep and awake
when not yet aware of where one is
not yet aware of what or who one is
a split-second reprieve until----
(oh, it really did happen
oh, I don’t have a leg now
oh, you have been torn loose
taking pieces of me with you)
it has been proven medically:
people with life threatening seizures
can eventually function normally
with half of their brains removed
not so with a splintered heart
not so with half a heart...
Submitted for: Catie’s Free Verse Extravaganza contest
Theme: Half a Heart
Categories:
welding, grief, son,
Form:
Free verse
The dream weaver of passion’s illusions paints magical visions
Within the soul of desires lost, the token King shifts wildly upon
The chess board of life, until he captures the Queen of hearts,
Melting her beneath his words of enchanting poetic charms.
But the black knight yields not the field of battle, for the flash
And glamor of a delusionary joust, can never win this maiden’s
Devotion, for her inner shield bars the mark of vows promised.
Oh in the bard’s eloquent lyrical tones, his sacred words sing
As sweetly as the nightingales soft lullaby, sweeping the dreaming
Damsel off her feet into passions imaginations world of pleasures
Fantasies, but a darker flame flickers in the night, guiding, calling
This wayward mistress homeward, for she belongs to the black
Knight heart and soul.
Bold is the white knight of clarity, trying to vanquish the
Dark arts beguiling spell, but no demons nor God, can part
These atomoshereic creatures drawn together by forces elemental,
For she is the light that balances his darkness,
And their binding love begets the balance of each other’s
Universe.
Welding his golden wand, the dream weaver builds
Crystal castles in the air, shinning illusions of Camelot,
Tripping the light rays of magic, tossing diamonds as
Confetti shards that sparkle beneath the moons elliptical
Brilliance, yet the queen’s devotion does not waver,
For she loves another, with the whole heart of salvation
Everlasting faith.
In the cold chill of the night, the Queen of hearts
Awakens, stepping lightly as If made of air itself
She steps behind the dark battle horse of fate,
Then placing her fragile hands made of porcine glass,
Into her mighty lord grasp, she mounts behind
The King of black, riding into the distant horizon
Abyss of darkness.
Screaming in protest the wizard of illusion falls
Into madness’s sorrow, for his lost love betrayal,
But she smiles in the night, embracing this
Lord of passions flame.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Categories:
welding, adventure, devotion, dream, gothic,
Form:
Free verse
Spend your hard-earned cash on fuel for takeoff.
Pray that the government does not find out until gone.
Allow your free time for checking weather, not golf.
Case the local food store for dry goods you can con.
Evaluate your water supply needs, no water in cosmos.
Secure a safe place for waste, body waste floats to easy.
Have welding knowledge, so your stored rocket is close.
Internet may bring suspicion making government queasy.
Plan to go up straight in the air, horizontal rockets scare.
Categories:
welding, adventure, funny, imagination, places,
Form:
Acrostic
Spirit
Callous, Potent
Guarding, Welding, Mending
Nurturing our Harrowed Egos
Amidst
Categories:
welding, emo, society, spiritual, today,
Form:
Cinquain
LEAVING BOYHOOD BEHIND
White shirt 'n' school tie to blue-collar, dress-code is changing with age
From schooldays to pay-days, from homework to hard work
School bells and game playing to work's whistle and wage earning
With new mates, dirty jokes and smoking, oh where has my boyhood gone?
Seven-thirty start time to five-thirty finish, playtime is shortening with age
From footy-boots to work-boots, from school cap to flat-cap
Five hour days and school clock to nine hour days and time-clock
With clocking on, punch cards and overtime, oh where has my boyhood gone?
Sitting with the lads and a big mug of tea, some things taste different with age
From cream soda to warm beer, from tu'penny mix to filter-tips
Learning piecework rates and new skills, paying union subs and betting slips
***-packet backs, sledge-hammers and betting, oh where has my boyhood gone?
Working with Paddy in the oven's fiery heat, this is much too hot at any age
From cold iron bar to white hot, from straight angle-bar to boiler-flange
From the furnace to the big rolls and bend it, working fast before
Lift it out, knock it flat and weld it, oh where has my boyhood gone
In the Boiler-shop to learn fabrication, things mustn't drop apart with age
From marking out to Oxy-gas cutting from riveting to electric arc welding
Not much in the way of protection with no heath 'n' safety laws here
With air-hammers, no ear-plugs or goggles, oh where has my hearing gone?
Moving big metal sheets down the plate-shop, I must be getting stronger with age
From plate stack to marking out table from load stable to not very safe
Two tons of metal on the pulley, the chain slips and it's down with a bang
Metal crashing, men jumping and cursing, oh where has my life nearly gone
Day-release Thursday at college, lessons still needed with age
From going to Derby and back again, from going by bus to car driving
The Lacarno dance-hall at lunch-time, try chatting up girls for some fun
A quick jive, some posing and a coffee, oh where has my boyhood gone
Dating girls at the week-end and hoping, urges get stronger with age
From meeting up early to dancing, from front seat to back seat for fun
Babysitting her niece on a Tuesdays this gives us some time on our own
Snogging, heavy petting and much further... boyhood gone
Categories:
welding, work, boy,
Form:
chipping and hacking
sawing and sanding
this is the life of a creator
these are his sounds
a cacophony of hustle and bustle
a primal link to the past and an eye on the future
ever striving for a land bridge between the two
like ancient explorers of the human condition
back and forth
to and fro
sweeping arm movements packed with energy
eye's steady and intense gaze resting on the immediate
standing on the precipice, the gateway of creativity
ready to push the boundaries of the possible one more time
forging potentials in the foundry of insight
molten heat emanating from the source of inspiration
leaving trails across le atelier in vibrant, living color
once more into the fray.....
a chance to become something more
a demigod, replete with all the powers
to cast off these earthly shackles and take one's rightful place
amongst the Apollonian and Dionysian pantheon
standing shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Giacometti, Rodin and Michelangelo
basking in their eternal aurora of shimmering crystalline streaks of productivity
leaving traces of ocular delight along the way
but always leaving something to be desired
just out of reach and unattainable, alluding to greater grandeur
scaling the philosophical peaks and traversing the political spectrum
to unify the scattered, to join the fragmented, to give voice to the oppressed
saying something with nothing
directing the viewer's eye with subtleties
emphasizing silence with space and void
painting and glazing
soldering and welding
hands steadily guiding and grinding
unearthing the inert qualities laying dormant, waiting to be revealed
commanding that the materials speak and be known
this is a life worth living
this is the life of a creator
Categories:
welding, art,
Form:
Free verse
We eat-
and we commit,
we saunter
and we feel it-
the wisdom,
the wire’s,
the welding of the mire to the person who is inspired-
an envelope licked by the man they call sire...
The literal
is pitiful,
so spin the skull
and make some mold,
take a poll,
read a skull,
enter when you’re full,
ask them to list the goals-
be motion while it’s on the phone,
black people when they’re away from home
festering lingerer’s un-laid by their bones
a drink-
cheap but hits the hole’s...
A young person preen,
a peacock mean,
a regular man green,
ridiculous and obscene!
Motion of the sea,
movement of falling beans-
music in the reef.
Categories:
welding, blessing, blue, boat, brother,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Pleiades...
Evening skies polarized
Early end to the light
Eyes spy orb above crags
Eager pinhole cam shows
Essence, inverted page
Eureka! Welding specs!
Everyone have a look!
9/2/16
Categories:
welding, nature, sun,
Form:
Verse
We sit and share a seat, two faces in the street,
wading through our wisdom and design.
‘Though in amble wasn’t said, I knew I am being led,
into mirrored thinking same as mine.
Two poets of a kind, at this establishment did find,
we have listed through a wild rhythmic storm,
where our words are meaningful, with a magnetic pull,
tossed and turned by course heraldic form.
We search for inner sanctum news, within each other’s views,
to accelerate a protest of our own,
now the writing’s in my head, on paper must be said.
So must be written, when I am alone.
I guess you feel the same, so we exchange a name,
to employ a friend and hope some day a mate.
For in this time we pass, I pray there is no farce.
The friendship we are welding won’t abate.
We discussed the poor. What we are aiming for.
You itched to ply the strings on your guitar.
Then you recited sordid stains, of little children’s pains,
highlighted for all time for what they are.
In conversation ‘bout my verse, that is wide and quite diverse,
an apology broke in through a line.
His want was desperate, a soothing cigarette;
when you took a draw he saw the sign.
His lighter was his ‘poke’, exchanging for a smoke;
you took up the offer of his bid.
Silently I’m watching you, hand across this fellow two,
thinking, ‘that’s a generous thing you did.’
Then I watched this bloke, light up his bartered smoke,
you took his lighter and the deal was done.
Before he turned from you, you spoke without review
“You might need this to light the other one.”
That was just a small time bid, though generous what you did,
an action bringing forward your trait.
With understanding for the lost, and a minute personal cost,
instantly you turned a friend into a mate.
Categories:
welding, friend, inspiration, poets,
Form:
Rhyme