Long Girders Poems
Long Girders Poems. Below are the most popular long Girders by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Girders poems by poem length and keyword.
High above gray Manhattan’s marge,
‘Midst toothsome towers in the sky,
A construction crane there looms large,
Dwarfing the crowds of passersby.
A new building grows, rising high,
Clouding another patch of sky.
A tower for trade will arrive
Where businesses may fail or thrive.
An unsung Mohawk warrior,
And an iron-ribbed Spartan crane,
Raising stanchions; bolting girders,
Work in harmony on the frame.
Clutching the cables of the crane,
Beam rider goes where most aren’t fain;
Riding angled steel slabs, held tight,
High aloft, nearly out of sight.
In their union, we may marvel:
From out of an architect’s dreams,
Row by row; level by level,
They unfold a right-angled frame.
And when the beam rider has gone,
Who will recall his days bygone?
For those who make real others’ dreams,
That is the way it goes, it seems.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At first, a kiss of morning dew~
then hunger. Orange teeth that chew
through girders, bolts, and battleships,
through forgotten coins, through fingertips.
Patient as a waiting noose,
it loves the things we let slip loose:
the tractor in the broken field,
the knife no hand will ever wield.
It writes in cursive, slow and deep,
a love the strong pretend to keep.
Time’s own tongue, it licks the edge
of every vow, each steadfast pledge.
And when at last we all descend
to join the nails we failed to mend,
rust will sing its lullaby~
soft, so soft, the way things die.
October 21st 2007
Thoughts – Moneca .
The past has come around to dominate again.
It has brought me into a lesser place then before.
Upon wings of time’s passing, drift memories, ecstasies, experiences of joy to delight – light up my soul, fill my empty, fragile heart with lost hopes and dreams.
Gloomy days have befallen us, darker days upon me.
Those beautiful sunny days, seemed to have faded away.
Dreams of closeness have faded into a reality you create.
The dream has become lost, in what has been left behind,
now the essence for a reality that has become the present.
Fear my Dear
Fear has become a long, lonely, dark tunnel
I walk you, with thoughts that leave me alone,
on my own as you take us back to where
I feel, as if I am no more then a substitute
for those empty hours that come to your days,
when the thoughts of a Mr. Right, a Prince Charming,
Mr Pseudo Intellectual, Mr. Elegant are insufficient
and your current pursuer, man of interest, is not available.
The man you’d respect, appreciate, give yourself to, the man you’d love, – none existent in this reality, the man you desire.
B. J. "A" 2
October 21st 2007
My Dear Moneca :
I have done many times and will again, lay my ego down upon the sacrificial alter in order for it to be the girders of a bridge upon which you may cross over the abyss, the black hole, the seas of uncertainty, the quagmire of fears created from so many negative experiences that continually creep into the mind of your days, from a past, now long passed – experiences that have created beliefs, dogmas, paradigms, archetypes, control .
This I have done – laid my ego aside, to rest – and will continue to do so, for you, because I care, because doing so is my nature, my desire to see you rise up and fly above all that has brought you down, brings you down, hold you back. This I, freely, do for you, with all my heart, soul and love, in order to support, even if I should never know, feel or reap the benefits because you have chosen to give to another .
My ego – I want to be the wings upon which you fly to freedoms light, even though you do not believe nor believe in me .
Love
Bill .
yea tis history - that end gin shelled a mesh by mit Romney wailin
such below figurative belt mortar attack subterfuge and constant railin
per accusations hurled at barack Obama presidential campaign
lobbed like scud missile grenades from invisible hand no longer m palin
in comparison and hence moot point for republicans to gain
so this joe of a voter re-fused 2 bide time 2 prevent candidate from failin
app laud clinched 2nd term deserved and occupy white house seat a gain
intent i wanna talia 2 acknowledge salient tactics to boost usa now ailin
sasha bravado blasting and gunning futile fusillades
which questionable oppositional stealth indiscriminately fired pell mell
to discredit supreme commander in chief an exemplary persona in the main
such desperate toothless and nail biting tactics
replete with political retaliatory slanderous stockpile bombardment
but rather, he opts to build fracking rainbow coal bridges 2 somewhere
over the rainbow toward future with his omnipotent time tested girders
of righteousness and gravitas quite simple and plain
casting confidence that the democrats rank as the robust strongest train
eclipsing her livid burst of 15 minutes fame that briefly wax than wane!
This is a different kind of brew
it's refreshing reviving you all inside
when you're sagging all deflated
makes you feel good all outside
It's brewed here all in Scotland
TV advert has real cool slogan
'Irn Bru's made from girders'
so true I'm definitely not joking!!
You get it in cans and bottles
it really has real special taste
but so difficult to describe
need to taste it slowly no haste
Today they make sweets and ice cream
in this Scottish original Irn Bru flavor
but there's nothing like this real thing
for it's special taste one to savor
(This is written about Scotland's favorite drink 'Irn Bru', a special kind of lemonade! )
brush in hand, he breathes life to paper ...
columns ... bejeweled and sparkling
like blades of shimmering grass
piercing the night as star-flecked stalagmites
fingers of phosphorescent proficiency
flickering with the finest of human accomplishment
and twirling through the ether like fairies
darting and dancing to the throb of frantic grids below
glowing girders and gangling spires, agleam
trembling with the concerns of life
and dressed in the temperate weight of wonder
a thousand stories born each elegant instant
countless dramas and conundrums
spinning to their inexorable ends
numberless breaths gasped and giggled
heart-upon-heart pumping ire and exasperation
thrumming with passions, proved and pondered
or the typic pulse of the prosaic
a glistening garden of "la condition humaine"
a beast born of concrete and light ...
its urbane and provocative heart, beating ...
the canvas has come ... to LIFE!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Something Bigger Than Myself" Poetry Contest,
Line Gauthier, Judge & Sponsor.
N/A'd in the "Cityscape" Poetry Contest.
Small stadium built in the late forties,
minor-league once, but has been left behind,
built with girders and backless, wooden seats,
a local relic of an older time.
The players look so young, barely can shave,
the pitching is rough and some balls are dropped,
a few have been drafted by big league names,
one has promise, at ninety-four was clocked.
Young kids run around, and between innings
some do wacky races upon the field,
but have fun even if they’re not ‘winning,’
and the high-fives from the players are real.
So far not a hit has yet cleared the wall,
but six bucks is still good for live baseball.
Each Twin Tower encased in steel bower
Billowing masts did to horizon crest, as the fibrous
sunflower
Wrought to withstand the shearing winds and the
mightiest shower
A symbol of America's limitless capital and economic
power
Perched on the precipice of greatness until 911's
sentient hour
In a prescient moment, steel caissons did the steel
girders scour
Mighty sentinels of the skyline succumbed to a roaring
stour
In the dust-swept corridors, the shell-shocked
remnants did cower
Anon, as residual to the surface imploded; exploded a
national fervor
As free enterprises' symbols crumbled in New York's
harbor
A wave of national pride rumbling across the fruited
plains did succor
With steeled nerves and stealthy acumen did lab our
Our tarnished symbols of freedom to defend with
unblemished might, valor
In faraway lands, in shielded hovels, bastions; tracked
enemy with vigor
With soaring wings and pounding hooves, girded with
invincible armor
Did fleece the brigand cowards restoring the nation's
honor
jampacked city streets
that jangled and banged
in the raucous jarring day
shifted
from business to boogaloo
squeezing into moonlight
party lights
gin and lime-kissed
gimlet sequined dress
strutted
in studded six-inch heels
riveting flair
provoking jive and jazzy nights
to tame this lion of New York
The bed swallowed the evening
sucked-up in slumbered
sobering snooze
exhaling the drunkard’s stench
while the warmth of whiskey
and you next to me
laid dreamy still
popped up and propped up
restless and ragged
realizing the changing view
through the dirt-stained window
a pool of placid sunrise
igniting
colorless clustered towers
bulwarks and girders
scraping the sky
out of the easterly clouds
a creeping golden palette
arose
touching every crevice
defining each silhouette
your body stirs deliberate and slow
rainbow hued eyes
slenderly slitted catching
the new-found light
opening, tenderly revealing
the landscape of your smile
disclosing
a cozy contentment
waking with hello
as I fall into your dream
and a new day
The new 950-ton bridge would beat
down time dashing to classes cheat
ting vulnerability asper thick traffic
putting life at risk,
thus laudatory alternative
intending to offer Sweetwater
to last a lifetime would make fleet
(installed at Florida International University,
with eager pedestrians ready to greet
crossing grand opening,
where local dignitaries didst meet
viz Miami-Dade County
Saturday (March eleventh 2018)
witnessing ghastly collapsed
Thursday (March fifteenth 2018)
afternoon onto Southwest Eighth Street.
An unknown number
of fatalities surmised,
while several others
were hospitalized.
Prior to groundbreaking
with placement guised
of the attendant pomp
and circumstances exercised
setting cornerstone,
the projected
general estimation apprised
sans building costs totaled $14.2 million
and funded as part of a $19.4 million grant
from the US Department of Transportation.
The fact sheet boasted the sheer intensity
comparable to withstand strength of a
category 5 hurricane, and supposed to last
for more than 100 years.
Within the blink of an eye, no ifs ands,
nor abutments squared with ratiocination
earning civil engineers bragging rights,
which boastful, delightful, fanciful stead
fastness touted thwarting titanic tenable
taxing shocked Katrina and the waves.
Now only a scattered pile (formerly comp
rising beams footings, and piers) of rein
forced concrete capped with a bent ele
ment defying hallelujahs, karaoke kudos,
and bobble headed nods,
now impish jinns keep leering, mocking,
and naysaying to fading echoing reverberations
leveled at the laughingstock of an architectural
(duff) feat. Further scrutiny will attempt to cap
chore structural weaknesses. Amidst snapped,
crackled, and popped strewn cables entwined girders
(whose premature destruction) will also warrant
any arresting tell tale signs of unusual stress.