Robert Reldan is incarcerated in New Jersey, and has been for 27 years. His bio, with his words, states;

"I write to maintain my sanity, and humanity, while surrounded by insanity and inhumanity. Poetry has been the 'key' that kept these madhouse doors open for me."

I know nothing about Robert Reldan except what I read in "Walls Of Steel/Hearts Of Stone", but most poets reveal innermost thoughts, fears, joys, heartaches and triumphs via written words, as does Robert R. Reldan. This slim volume was sent to me by one of his poetic friends, not by Robert himself.

Walls of steel, hearts~of stone; both hard and durable substances; all durability is lasting, at least according to the laws of universal force. Poets write with the belief that their words will last, will remain fresh and pertinent, unimpaired as tough survivors of time continuance.

Thoughts must be tough to endure this ordeal, as are the men who are sentenced, then incarcerated for past deeds, to pay their "debt" to society. But thoughts can, and do, escape from behind prison walls., in various ways, through the written word, via letters, essays, poems and books.

I give a thumbs up to Robert R. Reldan for this poetic work. I've read many poetic volumes penned by "prison poets." Some are atrocious, some mediocre, some budding into flower, some are good bordering on excellent. But what can a reader expect: these men and women come from every level of society, and have been educated accordingly, therefore, they are proficient in accord with previous education, or as they desire to learn, and earn more (which, most prisons encourage).

There are four excellent poems which center-in upon 9/11.

"This morning, there were people
at work. Two planes impacted,
and their lives evaporated
into the heavens. . .
they will not return tomorrow
This morning, we traded lives for madness . . .
what will we trade, tomorrow?"

"On Tuesday,
everyone understood 'World Trade Center'
because,
when words fail,
we all cry
in the same language."

"For some of us,
our innocence
is forever clouded in that smoke.
our faith shattered by that thunder
and our tiny wings
can barely carry us
to tomorrow."

These lines convey sorrow, but they also speak softly of hope: of tomorrow, that intangible all work toward, and expect.

"Trite phrases, offered many times before,
but, with no palliative effects.
Can't you understand?
I'm hurting!"

Sadness, regret, self-accusatory, helplessness, pain,, anger, and love are emotions revealed in Reldan's poetry, When one is incarcerated, time weighs heavier than a stone upon the mind.

"There is an ebb
and flow
but the underlying din
is constant.

Only in the deepest hours
of early morning
does the cacophony
fade
to a dull grumble . . ."

We will surely hear more from Robert R. Reldan. An address was written in for any who would like to communicate with Robert about his poetry;

Robert R. Reldan 62212/557463
Box 861
Trenton, NJ 08625

A good read discovered -- uncovered within heartfelt words.

Copyright 2002 Joyce Metzger
stormey@sunline.net