Gravel hides on the winding asphalt
as the curve looms innocent.
Signs stream together,
red and orange blur without warning.
Rubber clenches, grasps,
releases and repeats —
Tracks swirling behind,
the striking metal skates in rhythm.
Expert reflexes turn to anxious panic
providing no relief or hope.
End over end the rubber and steel bang.
The tires touch down then release as
the hood, then roof take on the pavement.
A flash of silence breathes
before the hammering thrusts repeat.
Over and over again.
Plunging over the cliff,
the horrifying trip nearly over.
Smoking twisted steel
meets soil and rock,
solid and unyielding while
soft, wet ground gently
catches the airborne body.
Crushed bones abound as
blood drenches the muddy skin.
Tangled body barely alive in a ditch
a hundred yards away.
Life saved by a stranger’s terror, call.
Rushing to extend life,
time beats slowly.
Conscience fades with each frightening breath.
Racing through the air,
the deadline nears.
Saved in time
by the grace of God.
by Bob Shallenberger
The poet Bob Shallenberger
This laugh-out-loud book is a true account of the author’s quest for true manliness in time for his newborn son’s arrival. A fellow inmate lent it to me to read …
I started “Eric Liddell: Pure Gold” by David McCasland and just couldn’t put it down It’s the story of the Scottish/British Olympic sprinter from the 30’s who inspired the movie “Chariots …
Disconnected Global Elite:
they don’t need
solar panels on their shacks!
The sun won’t feed the
billion people who go to bed
hungry every night, the
masses of starving children
dying from contamination,
devoid of vaccinations,
treatment and …
“In The Garden of Beasts” by Erik Larson is a true story of U. S. Ambassador Dodd’s time before and during the Nazi takeover of Germany. It truly is a …
Men walk in pairs on the concrete trail with
scuffed steel-toed boots and warn-out soles, drab
green shirts and khaki pants with brown tops.
In grey sweats and shorts they share dull tales …
The waves shimmer under the
fading moon as the ocean
starts its day just before its dawn.
Glowing shades of turquoise, calm,
bright and clear, with waves expanding, the
sun climbs above the horizon beyond …
Lime green zoot,
masked, vest flowing loose atop
white saddles bony, shored at the base.
Silver chain spinning watch on end,
broad brim resting low on its
gaunt brow, paltry features
gazing, staring, smirking,
scheming as …
striped by homespun bands,
tousled and muddled from the
resilient north plains wind.
Long beards tattered,
peppered white and gray.
Tattooed skin, red
from the Dakota sun.
Bifocals plastic, thick and brown.
Tee shirts faded mauve and …
Homes stripped from once proud families by
government-funded, too-big-to-fail banks with
cash reserves the size of third world regimes.
Their futures ripped away without consideration or
compassion, devoid of support from multi-termed
elected pen pushers …
Sweat trickles beneath a black
shirt, untucked, vintage, and
well-worn for years with
guests and substitutes always
beside the other ones.
Magnetic beats echo long
side by side, above at back,
throbbing tempos call out the
middle faithful, …
“Eric Liddell: Pure Gold” by David McCasland
Solar Shacks© By Bob Shallenberger
“In The Garden of Beasts” by Erik
Black & White Yard© by Bob Shallenberger
The Silence of Stoke© By Bob Shallenberger
The Merry-Go-Round© by Bob Shallenberger