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87 · Oct 2019
Why he writes
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
I could write,
listen and read poetry,
all day and evening long.
Breaking down its core,
the meaning inside the poem,
by its author
is now,
one of my favorite things to do...
one of the things I look most forward to....
in
this life...
that is filled with mystery
and unknowns.
Is it because I enjoy distancing myself
from this world in which we live?
That's possible....----
indeed it could be,
quite possible.
Or is just because I have this insatiable affinity
for works of art whether it be in written form,
painted form,
nature form or ****** form?
I suggest ---
to myself of course,
that it may be ....
a little bit -------------
of both.
Every day I need to FEEL a poem.
Live in that poem,
whether written by me....
or another author.
Entertaining my own mind.
My mind that is forever a playground.
It's nice to get away.
87 · Oct 2019
Love's whiskey juice
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Vulnerable,
   prone

... naked;

    there you were.

      My heart
racing,
         my lips
dripping
       of drool
and
         my mind
    Pre-
      climaxing
   as my hips
buck.

     Tasting you
now
        overwhelms
              every
   thought that
I am capable
             of thinking.

Your ******
     calls my lips
        to have my
mouth and
            my tongue
take your
      ****** as my
         prisoner.

  Together,
we ride the
        waves of
            ******
and ****
     one another down like
        a double shot
           of whiskey.

You're drunk...
    I am drunk
       on our
whiskey juice
          of love.
87 · Feb 2020
12 word - mean streets
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
his blood
ran into
the gutter
that was
no stranger
to blood.
86 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
I am
a cul de sac
traveling with
two hands
on the
wheel

you are
a
los angeles
freeway with
your hands
everywhere
but where
they
need be
86 · Dec 2019
slumbering fire
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
the winter's
  trees
stand as barren
  as a soul
in search of
    stimulation.
86 · Nov 2019
still of the night
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
in the
  still of
the night... .

   your lips
were the
  definition of
delight.

  in the
still of
     the night.. .

together,

  your lips
were.... .. .
   oh so tight.
86 · Mar 2021
Tonight's wishes
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
Saturday night and this
evening's sky
is a
blanketed delight with a
lover's starlight

Clusters
big dipper
little dipper
and the
north star
as we
cozy up tight

Go ahead,
make a wish
my love

Tonight I give you the sky above
86 · Mar 2020
A poem and some grey hair
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
I'm now just an old and brittle guy-
A slow deliberate gait when once I used to fly-
In the rear view mirror I wave at my youth-
Fifty-three this year, growing long in the tooth-
I can no longer portray a man made of steel-
Cause' unoiled and rusty is the way that I feel-
Acceptance of this reality, was my toughest fight yet-
I lived a life hopefully that I soon will never forget.
85 · Feb 2021
diagnosis
TheConcretePoet Feb 2021
do you wish
to store me
away for
the winter
days?

hush me
and pack me
away in some
sort of
garage bay.

in the cold,
i still like to
flap my
wings...
i can still
fly,
i'm not
too old.

that pasture
may be
beautiful
and serene
but it's not
for me,
and this,
i
wish you
would see.

please don't
put me out
there
just yet,
i'm not ready
to view my
last sunset.

allow me a
few more
sunrises with
fantasy
running
wild in my
broken
heart....

a few more
days without
an end but
rather,
with a
brand new
start.
84 · Jan 2020
are you ready?
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
the heaven's rain turned into funeral black -

the earth opened up beneath our feet -

the winds shared whispers of imminent death -

the rain ignores the fire in the sky above -

the abundant smell of iron wafts -

the sight of flowing scarlet red is everywhere -

the trumpets heard are sonic booms -

there is no place to run -

the souls of evil greedily pull at me below my feet -

the feathers of angels brush past my nose -

the time has ceased, weightless i become -

the end is here -

are you ready ?
84 · Dec 2019
harnessed resentment
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
precious time
  was stolen
from me
  with someone
that i loved
  very much.

stolen
  from me
by someone
  who's time
  together,
i don't deem
  "precious"
at all.

he's gone.

while they're
still here.

   which,
only
angers me,
    pushes me
to resent
  more.

the irony
  of which
i write this
  with is
    literally
maddening.

  there's no
jeckyll,
   there's no
hyde.

there's my
  reality
not
  schizophrenia.

i know what
  i lived
and i know
  what is
too hard
    to forget.

   that knife
has gone through
  my chest,
through my heart
  and out
my back far
  too many times
to count.

resentful is
  a modest word
in exclamation
  of my feelings.

apologies
  be ******.
there is no right
  for the wrong
that i am
forced to
  have live
     within me,
  day after day
after night
   after night.

thanks for
  the memories
that murdered
  my soul
long long ago.

i'll be
  hard pressed
to find a
  tear for you.

perhaps
  forgiven,
perhaps.

   but never
forgotten.
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
mentally
and
physically
abused as
a child,

not knowing
what i was
doing wrong
all the
while.

i did
nothing,
nothing
wrong except,

wanting a
relationship
with my
father,
so i
wept.

jealousy
and anger
filled those
around me,

the ones
that were
supposed
to be
looking out
for me.

the middle
child
that misses
his father,

boo hoo
they feel
as their
anger anchors
farther.

a little boy
needs
his dad,

my dad that
they
seemingly
didn't
want me
to have.

instead,
i grew up
with exclaims
like,

"go to room"

"you look
just like
your father
get out of
my sight".

and then,
those same
people
wonder why
i am the
mess that
i am today?

all that
i ever
wanted
was peace
in my life
and inside
my head...

i guess that
my death
will be
my only
way.

if most
only knew
what goes
on inside
my head?

i fight
myself
every day
just to
not
walk with
the dead.
to make it harder, my Dad passed away far too young of lung cancer which makes me hold even more resentment to those that kept me from him.

for the last 2weeks of his life in hospice care in his home, i was his care giver.
i gave him every shot that one could possibly imagine.
but, it was my loving face that he seen last as he drifted away from me one last time....

i am here to hurt no one.
i am here to share whatever love and words that i can.

much love to you all and as my dad would always say :
"ciao ciao for now".
84 · Dec 2019
death's death x2
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
a
  loving loss
is a
   wound
which
  never heals.

there
   are
no scars
   from loss
like this....
    just
open wounds.


'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
humanity
these days,

often
leaves me
in
bewilderment,
awe
and despair.

hunt,
go ahead
for food
of course
but,

why shoot
a bear?

that's just
trophy
hunting,
pound
your chest
little *****
syndrome
in my eyes.

i literally
look at
those that
trophy hunt
as wolves
in disguise.

be you
of course.

just remember,
God
nor I..

your
murderous
behavior
will we
ever endorse.

i clearly
put much
more value
on life,
any life
than you.

i am
thoughful
enough
to know
that
once we
draw our
last breath..

there are
NO REDOS.

**** for
food?
Jesus
approves.

******
for sport?
from heaven
to hell
your
forever home
moves.
84 · Feb 2020
5 word poetry
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
thunderstorms
are
why
i
live
Mmmmm
mmmm
mmm.
84 · Dec 2019
dead already
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
life;

it is
  something
that,

    i barely
live.
83 · Dec 2019
lol
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
lol
i'll never use
the phrase
'lol'.
it's just not
in me to be
one of
the crowd.

i'd rather use
the phrase
haha.
that lol stuff
reminds me
of sheep in
the meadow....
baaaa...baaaaaa

not trying
to be cruel,
just always
being me.
but,
lol reminds me
of exclamations
at a child's
birthday party.

ever since
the rage took
hold i went
the other way.
i'll never
conform,
i simply was
never raised
that way.

i know that
most of you
think it's all
just too
darned cutsie.
just like
all of those
regurgitated
"refried memes".

i'm the man
that will
always stand
away from
the crowd,
alone if
i must.
unlike you
all bound
together,
i will never
rust.
and in myself
i thoroughly,
wholeheartedly
trust.

why in
God's name
would I want
to be
the "in crowd"
or
like you?
naw,
no thanks,
you
people can
sell yourself
while to me....

I always
remain true.
83 · Feb 2020
Red ink - edit that
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
If I ran out
of ink?

I would write
my poetry
in my blood.

Cause,

I pull muses
through my
home's walls.

I pull muses
from a
quiet room,
the stale air.

I pull muses
through my
television screen,
from the lyrics
of song.

I pull muses
from everywhere
and
everything.

So,
I need ink.

Let's just hope that
I never run out
of ink.
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
The climactic colors of Fall will always leave me in awe.

A fresh cool crisp breeze readying me for the approaching Winter freeze.

I wave goodbye to Summer's unclean feeling and sweat, with absolutely not a shred of hesitation nor regret.

Bring me trick or treaters, pumpkins and scarecrows in the field, bring a welcome pause of work for my aging body to heal.

My eyes feed my soul as I gasp at Autumn's beauty and power, whilst I patiently wait for a new beginning and Spring's commitment to bringing April showers.

...we are all God's lovely and intricate perennial flowers.
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
she was
supposed to
be
'thee one'
to finish
all of my
sentences?

well,
i guess
that
she did.

she finished
them all
with a
question mark.
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
A-n apple a day may keep the doctor away
but never
B-ite off more than you can chew.

C-aught with your hand in the cookie jar
whether you eat it or not you're
D-amned if you do and ****** if you don't.

E-very rose has its thorns
and it hurts
F-or crying out loud.

G-et back up on the horse
even if the
H-andwriting is on the wall.

I- wasn't born yesterday
but today a
J-ourney of a thousand miles begins with the first step

K-now it like the back of my hand
but I will still be sure to
L-eave no stone unturned

M-ake no bones about it
it's so true that
N-ice guys finish last

O-nce in a blue moon
you need to
P-ay the piper

Q-uicker than a New York minute
it may begin
R-aining cats and dogs

S-wim with the sharks
or
T-ake the easy way out

U-phill battles
give us that
V-ariety as the spice of life

W-aiting for the dust to settle
I plan on utilizing
X-ray vision

Y-ou lost me
because you
Z-igged when you should have zagged.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️👷🏿‍♂️
82 · Feb 2020
forever
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
the pictures
of her
may have been
still photos
but,
they always
moved me
emotionally.
81 · Jan 2021
Simple > everything
TheConcretePoet Jan 2021
I'm a simple man.

I don't need all of the ******* you understand.

Don't ever pretend, don't ever lie to me.

I don't need all of the makeup, if you're beautiful, trust me I'll see.

Just sit next to me quietly and let's see where this can go.

Sit next to me on the shore and let us watch the river flow.

Let us listen as the waves crash up against our barefoot toes.

Sit next to me and watch some stars shoot across the sky.

Sit next to me and find out that I am just....

I am just a simple guy.


'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
80 · Jan 2021
"Broken"
TheConcretePoet Jan 2021
All things can not be mended.
Some things will always remain "broken" as they were intended.
The intricacies of "broken" dive fathoms into the deepest of seas.
Shackled to the ocean floor, "broken" by a lifetime's captivity.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
"Broken" does not always want or need to be 'fixed'
80 · Mar 2021
forever
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
the pictures
of her
may have
only been
still photos
but;

they have
always
moved me
emotionally.
80 · Oct 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Waiting
       to
           die

feels
           a lot

      like

           death.

   I drive

       yesterday

with my wife
      to a distant
location a few
        hours away

       and,
all it was

    was,

        anxiety

    for me.

        ******* drivers ,
       one after
    the other.

      My wife and I

    get to the point

       where we
realize that

    I simply

     dislike people-
  
      most people,
because of their
  selfishness and
the
ME ME ME
I I I I I I I,
      I come first
  way of these people.

    I have
       no fun
in life
     any more
       with these
people.

   I literally hate
     crowds because
I  dislike
     and
distrust
      people.

   I breathe in
anxiety
      and I exhale
anxiety.

     This life *****!!

   These people turn
me into,
      someone that
I don't like.

      And I am a man.
I never blame
     anyone for my
       troubles
          but;

a mere 5 minutes
  out in that world
    with those
ME ME ME ME
I I I I I folks?

   They turn my
blue skies BLACK!

  Some folks live life.
     I live this life
waiting to die just to get away
       from all of
the selfishness
          and
           anxiety.

   The rounds
that I keep
    going back
into the ring for?

   Those aren't
       for me
any longer.

    I have lived
what life that
   I wanted to.

  But, for as
long as He
    deems it
     necessary
for me to
   step into
that ring....

   I will honor
His wishes.
And believe it or not, there is nothing wrong with me.
It's the world that's wrong, not I.
I'm just ahead of the curve.
80 · Nov 2019
clean bib
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
at a loss,
a loss for words.
I *****, I scratch I claw,
for words with weight.

the deaf and blind ignore,
respect its clear, now out the door.

excuses flood a public forum,
caps lock and exclamation points,
the ignorant counter with hyperbole and erroneous nothings.

passion collides with patheticism,
followers flock to regurgitated utterings,
my bib is clean because this man doesn't eat what followers bring.
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
Stop,
to admire
the beauty
of any
and all roses
in your life
before they
lose their bloom

Try not
to yield to procrastination and all
of its
stalling tactics.

Don't,
allow
your roses
to wilt
while you
utter that
tomorrow is another day.

Tomorrow,
may hide
in the
darkest
of nights
forever.
80 · Mar 2021
Visual euphoria
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
There are unopened gifts around us aplenty

We need to be vigilant so that life doesn't blind us from these
79 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
a mirror
need not
be cracked
to distort
79 · Oct 2019
Part time love
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Sure,
    you can
go ahead
         and
      love me

         Only;

Loving you
      back,
   is not something
          that I can
        promise
thee

    What I am is;

I am an
    eastern coast
tree

   I think that
you know what,
    that
         makes me

        To you
    my time given
was
         for  free
  much like
    a wind's breeze

But realize;

    I am
nothing more
       than an
east coast
            winter's
     dead tree

I will only
    ever,
        love you
  partly
79 · Oct 2019
death before dying
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
if you
believe
in
death

then,

why not
live?
79 · Sep 2019
Secret garden
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
In the life
of a bud -
and flower
in the garden.
There is no talk of riot
against Autumn.

Only a goodnight kiss
that lasts until Spring.
Secret gardens
outlive winter.

Autumn's secret garden is a beauty unrivaled.

Kiss me Autumn and let's make secret love amongst the bronze and cinnamon colored leaves.

Kiss me... and

     F
        a
           l
             l

for me.
79 · Nov 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
i

         often

  wonder

how

  emptiness

             is

        always

so

      h      y
        eav
79 · Mar 2021
Unworthy
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
I'm a man,

a fatally
flawed man.

A man
unworthy,

I'm just
a man.

I exhaust
myself
most days
trying to
be worthy.

But Jesus,
is
exclusively
worthy
of my
weariness.

My exhaustion
at day's end
reminds me
how I fight,

how I
struggle to
be worthy.

At day's end,
I will
always be
a flawed man,

a fatally
flawed man.

And...

I will
awaken
once more
as the
sunrises with
His grace and,
I will
exhaust myself
again,

until my
last breath...

and I can
no longer
fight to make
sure that,
I am worthy
to stand
before
Him.

Đaviđ
will always
chase after
God's heart.
79 · Oct 2019
Ode to the giving leaf
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Autumn
   shows us
     just how
stunningly
        beautiful
death
.   ..   can
        .. .. .be

   and

             how

beautiful

  .. . it is
               to

      ... .let

t
h
i
n
g
s

   ... . ..go.

    each

f
  a
     l
       l
         e
            n

    leaf..
        a rustic

memory

           so giving
   and.. .. .

     so artistically

lived...

     leafs are brave
and

        unselfish.

    can a leaf,

    yes
      a leaf...

be a hero?

    their reddish

****** hue

     in their end

        demands

respect.

      their life

          is all,

all

     about

        giving.

i salute

     the
heroic
         leafs

     and for

       giving me

o
n
e

    of my

   reasons

        for living.
79 · Feb 2020
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
"valentines"
are crushed
candy hearts
that read;
'not my valentine'.
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
by choice,
i drove down
the wrong
street.

that choice
was not to
cater to my
heart but,
to cater and
save anothers
from breaking.

it's how that,

i have lived
my life.

that street?

it was a
dead end
for
my heart
and,

i knew that
before i
drove
down it.

and yet,
i pressed
on the gas
and defied
my heart.

why?

i have never
lived my life
to serve me.

i have
forever lived
my life,

to serve
and
to save others.

if i did
live for me?

i would have
left my heart's
dead end street
long ago.
78 · Dec 2019
over 50 years in review
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
new year,
  same prison cell.
new decade,
  same hell.

new year,
  same as yesterday.
   new decade,
same fate.

new year,
  life's meaning
lost its virginity.
new decade,
  still the same
old destiny.
78 · Oct 2019
Cancer....hmmmfph cancer
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
You waltzed into my life without caring whom you might ******* and destroy, or how many.

You rudely and violently attacked a man that did not deserve a fight with you, but then again not many do.

You took from me the only man I ever in 'my life' looked up to for still my many unanswered questions about life.

The one man that was my beacon whom guided me through every storm .....until the rain and howling winds eventually had passed me by.

HATE.

Hate is a very strong word therefore I very seldom use the word.
But cancer, know this, I HATE YOU!
You have devastated my life once already in a way that has put me into a place that there is no coming back from.

Alas, however,
.... I refuse to allow you to destroy whatever life I may have left!

My life that I once knew is certainly in ruins after I saw how you treated and violated one of the most lovable men that has graced this Earth.

It may be dark at times where I reside now and perhaps forever more,  
but I will not allow you to keep my eyes from absorbing the rich sunlight that will grant this flower the nutrients needed to continue to grow.

You brought me to my knees in one fell swoop.
But I will rise once again I hope one day soon.

One day soon I will stand tall like a redwood just so that I can eventually look down upon you.

Look down upon you and feel like I beat you,
not only for me but,
... for my Dad that you murdered in front of my eyes without care.
Every day, and I mean every day I miss you so much Dad.
77 · Mar 2021
Poets just poet 24/7
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
I have written many sentences with my heart

I have written many sentences with my mind

Most often it's difficult to tell them all apart

There is me, there is you in every single line

Forever on words
I shall dine

I'm a poet, it's how every day starts

As my eyes first breathe the morning air

My heart and mind through words rise naked and bare
77 · Nov 2020
Intrinsic partnership
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
Poetic
  verse
is
     intrinsically
partnered
      with my
-heart
-soul
-mind
-body.

Something
    most
humans
     could
never
       comprehend.

Poets are
    rogue waves
in that
   exact moment
of time
   when life
has become
      a
stagnant
       puddle.

We poets
  are the
      storm raged
rogue wave
  not that
you ask for
     but that
everyone
      needs
from
  time to
time.

    Poets
travel alone
        like
rogue waves
   because
alone they
  can fulfill
and easily
   satisfy
their every
      need.

Poets
     need not
you.

   But most
need
     a poet.

In a crowd
  we do not
seek to
  stand out;
     quite the
contrary.

Alone time
  with
     a poet
is what
  it's all about.

Every calm
    needs a
storm.

   Every puddle
needs a
  rogue wave.

You're
   no different.

Poets are
  the heavy sighs
of intrinsic
     partnerships.

A deep
   and complete
relationship.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️👷🏿‍♂️
75 · Oct 2019
Healing
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Muscles
   in our body
must rip
      must tear,
      must bleed
and suffer
        to become stronger.

And I think .......
  
       life,
        makes it the same
for our
hearts.

     Broken hearts
        do
mend.
75 · Jan 2021
we - who is we?
TheConcretePoet Jan 2021
we separate ourselves,
   for sanity.

we separate ourselves,
   for serenity.

we separate ourselves,
   for lucidity.

we separate ourselves,
   for stability.

we separate ourselves,
   for breath.

we separate ourselves,
  to push away death.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
75 · Oct 2019
Emotion's devotion
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Wanting is an emotion.

    What it is,

is,

       only one step preceding devotion.
75 · Nov 2019
is there meaning here?
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
my wounds
  are many.
some will
   never heal,
some too deep.
  some wounds
that i just
  will never
understand
or feel,
   some that
my soul is
  forced to
keep.
  actions of
guilty others
  are my
deepest wounds
  because they
weren't
  self inflicted.
my loathing
  for those
'guilty others'
  inside me is
one helluva
  conflict.
never judge
  one's outside
unless you have
  lived on
their inside!
   inside
is where....
   most people
die.
75 · Mar 2021
Unopened gifts
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
Waking up on the weekend to the fragrant smell of fresh cut grass

The humming engine of the neighbors lawn mower over a few laughs

Coffee's aroma wafting from the kitchen into your bedroom

Ah yes, this is indeed what they call a lover's swoon

As the sun's rays come to play and splash through your open blinds

Paradise isn't far if you never leave it to far behind

Off to a hot shower as the summer rain's softly echo

I can smell the aromatic rain through my open bathroom window

It's a calm, it's never a storm to my senses

It's weekend pleasures of fantasy and white picket fences

Arise from your bed, wipe the sleep from your eyes

Say hello to this morning and forget the goodbyes
TheConcretePoet Mar 2021
We poets lay down our hearts as blankets so that you need not ***** your own feet.
We poets are the lyrics of every country song and rhythm'd beat.
We poets play a little guitar and we sing a little too.
We poets are pretty fun company, there is worse that you could do.
We poets express our emotions with more than words
you see.
We poets can be the get away, from life's reality.
Here are my emotions, here is this poet's heart.
Please try to be kind, it's had enough of being torn apart.
We poets are the muses and the poems that we write.
The prose that we piece together whether fantasizing morning or night.
We poets we love without being loved.
Our love snugly fits,
like a hand in a glove.
74 · Dec 2020
🌌Universal love🌌
TheConcretePoet Dec 2020
You are a meteor shower on a canvas made of ebon sky.

You shed ice and dust with a glow that is easy to identify.

You shower me with beauty and steal away my breath.

You my love make the universe envy,
you are different than all of the rest.

A mouthwatering masterpiece of expression and galactic hue.

Tonight darling
tonight.....

i've never seen anything more beautiful than you.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️👷🏿‍♂️
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