a welders poem

Date 05-05-2011 20:44

Does anyone remember a poem, AWS magazine put out many years ago, about how welders’ doing a job no one wants, working under tuff conditions and so on and so forth. It was something about welding with mirrors and chasing the pipelines or going offshore for weeks on end. It was a pretty good one, telling a story of welder’s struggles lying down on a sheet of steel in the summer. Welding stiffeners for a ship’s hull in 110 deg. heat. If anyone could find it and post it I would like to use it in my tribute to my dedicated hard working. Doing it right every time the first time. I’m the QC at my company, and have several great pictures of my welders having to do it the hard way. So on our company lunch room wall there will be a nice size collage of them with this poem, doing want needs to be done under less than best of circumstances.

Thanks in advance to everyone

By Mat

Date 05-06-2011 02:07

"Oh, yay rebar I must weldith;
Hallowed be thy pipe welder, for upon his work, I stand!"

I have no idea what the poem you speak of is, but best of luck!

By Skaggydog (**)

Date 05-06-2011 16:28

Wherefore must I wear a mask when
I hold in my hand, the pen
wherewith I write poetry with fire?

How I long to discover the secrets that are hidden
in the theater before me;
to behold the movement of tiny, metal
particles, as they waltz and interlock
in a world within a world;
as they pirouette between the boundaries set
by the fire which frees them to move.

Oh, Lord in heaven! Why are not human eyes made
to see this wonder directly?
Must I always hold this dark glass before me?

Hark! He causes my heart, to see the mystery!
The metals are assaulted, by electric energy,
carried by heaving, heavy wires. In a molten flash,
I see the crystals breaking, and sighing;
the silent order of the solid surface, giving way
to rushing, hotly-radiant tides
that crash together like waves at a beach.

It swirls before me, an intricate dance
which I cannot see, but yet feel inside.

I delight to caress the molten piece
in my heart.
It is inside of me, and I am inside of it.
I slowly feel over and underneath
the hot liquid surfaces.
I move into its every contour, and through
the whole of it.

Bodies of metal, which once were separate;
the boundaries are fading.
It swirls and whirlpools within me-
It is all blurred now, caught
Into a quickly-freezing body of what once
was separate, but now is together,

a single piece.

By Skaggydog (**)

Date 05-06-2011 16:32

Sweat stings the eyes as we toil all day.
It’s hard to imagine what we do for pay.
We hammer out products that are used worldwide,
Pouring our hearts into the steel with pride.

Welders squeeze triggers on wire fed guns,
Shooting hot bullets as molten blood runs.
Welding arcs flash white in eyes that are red,
Hammers keep playing a chorus in our head.

Blue tongued torches lick at the steel,
After taking a taste, they devour their meal.
Metal screams as grinders’ teeth bite.
Orange sparks shoot up in fireworks of light.

Smoke uncoils and strikes at our eye,
Struggling to resist vents to the sky.
Searing sparks leap, looking for flesh,
While laboring lungs look for air that’s fresh.

Eyes grow weary as skin grows tough.
Calluses reproduce, there’s never enough.
Sometimes the steel has a mind of its own.
When it finally yields, it starts to moan.

The product draws life from the men who create it.
Although it’s our livelihood, at times, we hate it.
The factory is a graveyard of dead dreams and desires,
All killed by the heat of molten steel’s fires.

Retirement is nothing more than a dream.
The hope that it promises fades when it’s seen.
But who among us dare raise his voice?
We are all here by our own choice.

So we continue to work, for work we must,
As we toil and moil in the dust and rust.
The whistle blows. The next shift has begun.
We emerge like cavemen squinting in the sun.

We pound on the iron for eight hours or ten,
Then come back the next day and do it again.
We trudge ever onward, the work never ends.
Our only reward is what Friday sends.

By Skaggydog (**)

Date 05-06-2011 16:38

Blaring grinding blares thy engine
In mending together humanity’s ails,
Flickering light shines thy mender
In shining some light in humanity’s ails.

Sacrificial lamb in mending thy breaks
In little a price for sweats consumed,
Hearing impairment, a risk to come
In shining some light to humanity’s ails.

Shielding thy eye from blindman’s woe
Lest an error to move with sticks,
Shielding thy hands from animal’s woe
In shining some light to humanity’s ails.

On, thy aches from blaring machine
In fixing thy job to earn thy pay,
Mending thy rod, the welder’s task
In shining some light in humanity’s ails.

By Skaggydog (**)

Date 05-06-2011 19:07

Rule #1:
The Welder Is Always Right.
Rule #2:
If The Welder Is Ever Wrong, Refer To Rule #1.

By Ringo

Date 05-08-2011 02:29

That's pretty damn good!

By DaveBoyer (*****)

Date 05-09-2011 01:28

Under a spreading chestnut tree, the village smithy stands

The smith, a sweaty little man, has weak and puny hands

The muscles in His scrawny arms are weak as rubber bands

By Frank Tabor "The Old Welder" Courtisy of Anvilfire.com

By Mat

Date 05-06-2011 23:24

I see a bright light,
Within a hole deep and wide;
Another job done.

By Alaweldor Date 05-08-2011 05:28

I had to do some digging to find this one. It was written by Roger H. Yager of Central Square, NY and was published in the April-June 1981 issue of The Stabilizer (who remembers those?).
Thee Weldor
   Never will you hear a weldor say,
   to one of his own on a various day,
   "I sure wish I could weld like you",
   Let me say it the way I'm sure they do.
   "Watching you weld, I can plainly see,
   that you wish you could weld as well as me."

   They think that where they are, is where it's at,
   As they strut around in their flowered hat,
   Claiming their wallet is filled with loot,
   While flashing stainless buckle and cowboy boot,
   His fitter doesn't know much, but he'll do fine
   The weldor would teach him, but for lack of time.

   "Give me more rod, more rod" they sing.
   "Let me at it, I can weld that thing, and that thing too,
   Hell, there ain't nothing that I can't do."
   From all over the world they go to Oswego,
   They don't bother driving, they fly on their ego.

   "A weldin' test? I've taken some,
   You ain't a weldor if you ain't failed one.
   Just point me to a booth, show me which one,
   And I'll show you how to make this stinger hum.
   You give me a hood, and don't ask why,
   Just stand back, son, sparks gonna fly."

   "Think I can't do it, mind what you said,
   I can close my eyes and weld overhead.
   Don't get in my way, watch where you stand,
   I'll show you how the best go downhand.
   Keep that chippin' hammer there in the bag,
   I'll show you how I can weld over slag."

   SIGH!

   Somewhere there's a big job, I'm sure you can nail,
   Where the weldors are makin' two bucks over scale,
   You'll land that big job, you will, you just wait,
   Somewhere they're working six-tens and an eight.
   Don't talk about that great Power House in the sky,
   Lord, I hate to see a grown weldor cry.

   Sometimes you will hear a weldor say,
   To the welding inspector on his very first day,
   That he was looking for a jobwhen he came to this nuke,
   And him failing that test must have been a fluke.
   "I'm the greatest there is, and that's a fact,
   Just pay me show-up time and I won't be back."

By fit2inspect (**)

Date 05-09-2011 17:52

They are all pretty good poems in their own right. But none that I could use, with my pictures. Keep digging fellows I know AWS has one. It was about 10 years back in their magazine, and it was a tribute to the AMERICAN WELDER. The blood, sweet, grit and the determination to GET'ER DONE!

By Skaggydog (**)

Date 05-09-2011 19:31

Can't help but think that what you are looking for is a little far fetched. The one Alawelder put up seems to fit the welders I've met in the past few years.

By tighand430 (***)

Date 05-09-2011 23:33

F**CKIN PRICELESS!!!!!!!