"rucks" poems
Dedicated to the Hard Hats, ..for holding it all together.
**** frost on the green grass
There's a cold moon in the sky
The estuary waters black and calm
Where golden ripples lie.
Dawn's horizon lightens up
Bright stars begin to dim
Hard Hats all arrive for work
And with frozen breath...log in.
Work boots crunching on the stone
The men disperse to trucks,
The diesel motors roar to life
Their departures forming rucks.
Swarming in the morning light
Each to his own job's task,
Bridge building work underway
As dawn's first sunbeams bask.
Amazing the complexity
That building bridges has,
Amazing how voraciously
It eats up time and gas.
The planning and design work
The funding of supply,
Those organizational matters
And the labour standing bye.
Digging, lifting, shoving, shifting
Moving this to there,
A logistical nightmare
For the novice, unaware.
Steel and timber by the ton
Concrete pours en mass,
Gravel, sand and aggregate
And reservoirs of gas.
Procurement of supply ensures
A smooth transitional flow
Of successive small procedures
To make the project mesh and grow.
Day after day the massive trucks
Carting tons of sand
Are authorized by gate men
To unload on to land
Where motorway construction
Is steadfastly taking place
And progressing at
A gradual and steady building pace.
From concept to completion
A million multitasks,
Which involves a caste of thousands
And a schedule which asks,
That the finished installation
Be completed by the time
Of the Rugby World Cup kickoff,
Our global status on the line.
Like ants the Hard Hats swarm about
Each does his little bit
And gradually, over time,
The bridge emerges from the pit.
It emergeth like a phoenix
In a drab and sombre gown
But on completion, shines like fire
To be the nation's most re known.
The Manukau Harbour Crossing
A project for the Gods,
Of massive lengths of concrete
And miles of reinforcing rods.
Of an eternity of effort
From everyone involved
And an asset for New Zealand
And a beauty to behold.
Marshalg
@theGate
MHX
Mangere Bridge
14th March 2009
Please view the following link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzQZ-M90Zig
Nov 14, 2009
Nov 14, 2009 at 1:07 PM UTC
Bathing... she was waist deep in the river,
body glistening in the morning sun.
A sharp contrast to our eyes,
considering the hell we just came from.
The Lt became a West Point gentelman,
Pvt.Pete's face turned a brighter shade of red,
I gave the order to ground rucks and kindly turn our heads.
I walked up to the rivers edge and with broken words and sign,
tried my best to assure this bathing beauty, that every thing was fine.
Seems though it was us more put out then her,
she gave us all a smile.
air dried her long black hair , then casualy walked by.
She disappeared into the same jungle we had been in for days,
gave one last look back and gave us all a wave.
Now the men all had been smoked, rucks had took their toll
but there was not a single grip when i gave the order to hit the road.
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
A mber leaves and golden fields glisten in the morning sun
as farmers work each day to finish the harvest.
After all is done, the warmth of family welcomes them home.
U nfazed by the moonlight, a football field fills to the brim
as school colors filter into the stands full of hopeful fans.
All the while, friends huddle under blankets avoiding the chill.
T rucks fill pumpkin patches as families pick out decorations for
their porches,
and friends enjoy corn mazes, hayrack rides, and haunted trails.
The excitement for Halloween grows like a wildfire as the day
draws near.
U nder each roof, families come together for Thanksgiving:
savory turkey, green beans, and pumpkin pie.
The rest of the day is spent visiting with satisfied appetites.
M any girls search their closets to find sweaters
for warmth and comfort as they try to ward off the crisp autumn
air.
Wrapped in soft, cozy cotton, the evening soon becomes as
exciting as ever.
N othing can compete with all I love about fall:
candy apples, pumpkin spice, sweaters, and fallen leaves.
Needless to say, I am partial to the
chilly nights,
Halloween frights,
and football lights.
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 3:12 PM UTC
Though I may
Though I might
There are so many other things
That I wish on this night
The tide stores splices of onerous flesh...
stashing them out
And bringing them smoothly inside-
the rucks of darkness encloses
Tall frawns taller skirting vines
of turbulent giant bladder kelp
Survival should do one more...
then plenty is each species of human that cares
Grime sedentary shimmied hurriedly amongst hidden foul dusts
Plots spoken wed cloths
damask silken treading
lightly weeds where they don't belong
As we catch up to the cries
Senses to fulfill seniority demure paucity
oh they rinse and ringtones wash the dreams back out
Craft sols dented pride it's sinister
always aiming hollow
shat the one toothed grin
I could not be I if killed certainly jeering
at stimulant cartwheel punches
the crap lit doing wrong
yet by being studied each wave it repeats
a logarithm of ultimate denial
a surface squalor assuring currents champion
Wash away polyhedron pith
the face of pestilence
Personifications attempted
Douse the material frost with fire
from the grand stares glancing at you
Whose to realize the first and last valiant voyage
is tiding as of driest concerned philanthropically beholden logics
Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 12:58 AM UTC