Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nigdaw Sep 19
A wilderness is untamed,
nature bursts forth in all its glory;
without the guidance and destruction of
man.
It is beautiful,
a place where the soul is free,
although it may be in danger.


A wilderness is here.


Concrete slabs put upright
with windows;
facing more concrete.
Trees are sparse and trained,
grass short and restrained;
people reign.
An empty kingdom
of blank angry emotion,
called civilisation;
where the soul is definitely in danger.


It is our wilderness.
seraph Sep 1
i am overzealous and underwhelming. i say somethings and i regret them. i say nothings and i wish i hadn't. i am weighted and unbalanced. i place value where i think it belongs. i lean heavy into things for too long. i am uncertain and so sure. i run out of thoughts before my heart runs out of feelings. my thoughts run over and overwhelm my heart. i am liminal and concrete. im incomplete but hoping i could be.
Bruce Demos Aug 28
((view horizontally on the phone))

I                        graph,                        s­ighs
    was      cosine          up         down,        and
             a                              and                            lau­ghs.


Intervals                              and
              s­lowing        peaks       troughs
                             fast,                              past
                         ­                                                  the
                                                             ­                     floor,
                                     ­                                               couldn't
         ­                                                                 ­               take
                                                            ­                             any
                                                             ­                            more
                                                            ­                                 !

                                              
                                         instantly
falling                                up
       through                swings
             infinity,     curve
                           the
Anastasia Aug 9
My head
Is pounding
It hurts
Perhaps
I shouldn't have
Hit it
Over
  Ove r
  O v E r
   O   V  E r
O V e R
Again
Against a concrete wall
,,              
“””.              
\              
,,,
“”””
     \
        ,,,,                                      
        “”””­                                      
\              words
     ­                     are seeds
                           which float like
             a dandelion fluff in the
             wind / a breath of air
             can send them to
            flight/ yet
            T
          H
         E
       Y

A
R  
E  

O
    F  

        T
            H
              E

           ­      E    A    R    T    H
Concrete poetry

The first one I’ve done in quite some time
Strung Jun 26
I envy those
With a constant smile.
What life have you lived
To morph a concrete face?
And how do I get there
From here?
Perhaps I need to stop
Staring at the sky—At the birds—
As if one day
My bones will go hollow
And I’ll fly all the way
To forever.
— maybe I should just work harder
Beautiful people walk light on the earth and I find my feet sinking deep
Anastasia Jun 25
Dragging bodies
Against the concrete ground
Is not nearly as much fun
Without you
To lick the blood
From your fingers
And smile
Your crooked grin
c.b.❤
KM Hanslik Jun 14
Semi comfortable thing
Orange breast, black wings
She is my mother (I think)
The one who birthed me left a long time-ago
Protracted sunlight through the leaves
Oak, maple, sycamore
All the ones she told me about
And I am home in a basement
Concrete walls, concrete floor.
The air breathes sweat
Throwing damp into my nest

Styrofoam lungs
Starry fractal eyes
I can do anything, she says,
And falls to her knees
Semi-fragile thing
Assured by her head
Knowing better by heart

A window is broken
The house is silent but
She remembers exactly why
Exactly when
Hair chopped off a long time ago
I think my mother is coming home
Keys on the table
Sound of closing doors
Too soft but I can hear her footsteps
I am home in a basement
Concrete walls, concrete home
Conversation is on mute
But I hear everything.
Michael H Jun 9
I could go on forever
Flying on our feathers
Looking down from clouds
examining and watching
seeing every human dot
compromising and colliding
relating with the concrete
calling forth what they know
and then:

change happens
from calm and strong brains
every single object and thought
talks further of ambition
the clouds move
the heavens unlock
it rains
we get wet
it is cold
FEEDBACK? It is like what I have been writing recently. I don't know for sure why, but I have not been fond of anything I have written since getting this new notebook. They have all been written quickly and seem very bland.
Next page