Rib Poems - Poems about Rib

Love Letter Torn From a Rib

I tore a letter from inside my ribs
not a heart, just the script of your name
written in red ruin and birth fluid.

You were never mine.
You were my plague.
And still I prayed at your shadow.

Every sentence you whispered
became a worm in my lung,
a hymn stuck in the throat of a dying god.

And yet, when the mirror

Prime Rib

Prime Rib

Prime rib bone in, marbled fat
Spiced with garlic cloves
Smoked slowly on a grill with
Mesquite wood chips till
Center is slight pink
Melts in my
Mouth!

The Rib

He ran his hands over my body
Like he was searching for a place
He could begin to pry me open
Without ruining my face

More snake than human I am
Undeserving of the gift 
His hands delved into my body 
Like he was taking back the rib

Knitting a Poetic Rib

in measured
mood
   spontaneity 
of an arrested
moment
 
 knitted
      together
with
     experiential
 symmetry

Of Adam's Rib

Adam, consort, spouse to Eve,
to no other must he cleave.
She, created first of clay,
Adam followed the next day.

Eve, divine, celestial spark,
crowned to rule the patriarch.
Adam, gift to Eve, her mate—
he is hers to subjugate.

If you think me turned around,
you will see where truth is found.
From his rib she could not come.
Female is the primal one.

Adam

Liwat Rib

She refused to speak her name
and told others of the shame
she felt knowing I was akin to her
she recognize her as Terra Nullius
someone unclaimed
somewhere nestled between
unwanted and never needed
an easy mark for someone
who wished to dared to freatover
a chore for understanding
made into a myth by those
who sought convesment of her
Liawat Rib!
a musing joke often
might someone

Liwat Rib

In 1958 we saw the end of an era.
Mused the Curtiss Wright scholar.
he told a crowd of people
that an America that didn't
trust in the newness of creativity
would see a day were only exterior machines
would be looked at as something American enough
to be bought. Standing on the Promises of Yesteryear he
saw using the brands of yesteryear

Sweet But Worries Me

The call to cut, dizzy came, the rib is off,
Now woe man!
Spiritual farm farmed by he
None another could carry;
Moisturized soil dried,
Sea wildlife fried,
Bush toil players, roared but are reared,
All other breeds feared.
At eve, He was hissed,
Ahhh, the devil dined!
This stew is rare; not many but few are real,
Thine rib made thee whole.
All these, many are

Say Sorry To the Broke

Learn to say ‘Sorry’ to who is broke:
Don’t him near to make of it a joke,
Even if you were to him Nice Bloke
Or playfully would his rib-cage poke;
He’s now saddled with burdensome yoke 
And easily could in whisky soak.

Remember it’s ‘Sorry’ to The Broke
Rib-cracking it might be leave your joke
The once-tuneful voices, a croak
So Trifling

Rib-Eye Steaks On the Pit

Rib-eye steaks are on the pit
    Seasoned with dad’s rub
    Are you all ready to grub
       Meat will fall off bone
      One bite, it’ll be gone
          Then drink Ice,

The Rib

Love at first sight was the 
language she spoke
A sight to behold
to the angels she woke
A creation with broken mold
from the Divine
The description of beauty
branded in the mind
A angelic appearance 
her presence defines
What to do with this spirit?
That forever clouds my eye's
An ocean that desire
could not drain
A torment, envy
could not name
Both heaven and hell
she is

Missed Rib

Looking everywhere for the missed rib
In the bus, train and posters to lead
Pleaded God to provide with a little hint

Every time encountered with a gleam of a rib
Fooling myself thinking it’s mine to reap
Rinse and polish it to fit with the rest

Yet, not lucky enough to make a swear in a church
The rib that I

Clay of God

"Mould from clay!" said the divine, from these ribs we shall make our art that is fine. We shall celebrate with the innocence of thy wine, and mourn with the thickness of her bread. 

Everything divine is moulded, but everything divine is never a straight line, for man is the perfection of art - and

Joke and Rib

J-est
A-bate
S-ad
M-oment
E-ndorsing
R-apturous

F-eeling
A-s
J-oke
A-nd
R-ib
D-on't
O-ffend

Topic: Birthday of Jasmer Fajardo (February 23) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

Succulent Prime-Rib

A succulent prime-rib roast

thickly sliced, blood rare,

a baked potato topped with

sour-cream, chopped chives

and melted butter,
 
a gourmet

feast!


(Epulaeryu)
05,02,2019

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