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62 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Some people care when a poet dies,

visible by the moisture running from their eyes.

a poem is a conscience,

a report card,

a confession.

today my words turned the sun to clouds then into rain,

words at times that seem to ease the pain.

how can i taste what i’m mourning when sorrows door opens without warning?

when soon everything will be salt from the sea,

and riding the waves of eternity are me.
62 · Oct 2020
"finished"
TheConcretePoet Oct 2020
the
concrete poet
is similar
to concrete.

i have
many different
parts that
make me
a whole.

and once
my soul
is hardened,

like
reinforced
concrete...
i am tough
to break.

trying to
"smooth me
over" will
never stop
the hardening
of my heart.
Just another quick 5 minute write.

I just write what comes to mind as a subject. 🤷🏻‍♂️
62 · Dec 2019
Sun
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
Sun
Sleeping
Under
Night
TheConcretePoet Dec 2020
your
       naked

unique
                body     should
            only belong
    
               to someone ...

            that
               falls in love
                   with your
         naked
    
            unique

soul.

'Yours and  everyone's concrete-poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️
61 · Jan 2020
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
after
waking up
this morning
i once again
realized that
i was
someone else.
60 · Nov 2019
why even bother?
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
in today's
world,
you
'get together'
why?

to sit across
from someone
that you
barely
even know
any more,
and perhaps
more troubling
is that you
don't even
care to?

to sit across
from someone
that rudely has
'earbuds' or
headphones
covering
their ears?

to sit across
from someone
that has their
face buried
in their
phone like...
you're not
even there?

Helloooo...
I am right here!

no thanks.

i will pass
on those
'get togethers'
with folks that
it seems have
turned into
total
strangers.

once, twice,
three times
a year?
i consider you
a stranger.

and then,
when we
'get together'
you have music
blasting in
your ears and
your face
buried in
technology?

no thanks.

let's just
continue being
strangers....
thank you.

no need for
awkward
silence...
no need for
feeling alone
around a
crowd.

no need for
a feeling of
needing to
be drunk
to deal with
this complete
waste of
time.

heck, i can
have much
more fun alone
getting drunk
and writing
poetry and
having a
functional,
creative
and
entertaining
'get together'
with...
me, myself
and i.

so,
"why even bother"?

i'm not
  impressed....
with your
  'get togethers'.
For me, it's just all so fake that I can't even stand to be around it.
Technology is destroying families and civilization as we know it.

RIP - the good ol' days
60 · Oct 2019
nature's bion
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
invigorated
  i awaken
     each morn'
with-
    nary a word.

some folks
  will never
    understand.. .

a
  wing flapping
    morning bird.

as dawn
  breaks
    the horizon,

i have
  the energy
    of a hurricane.

i attack
  the fresh day
like an
  onslaught
     of rain.

the rain
  gives me
   the chance
to lick
   and groom
       my
messy mane.

   i leap
from my bed
  with a
    scratch and
a roar.

  i am what
   you call
a "bion"

  a word that
i am sure
   you have never
      heard before.

as an admitted
  pluviophile,

    the sounds
of morning rain
      excite and
arrest me.

   these things
i speak of
       are free.. .. .

    as a poet -
our frame
     of mind is
always front
  and center.. .

   we are
       open books,

we are doors
  that need

        no key.

in life,

   we just
feel things
    more deeply.. .

           better.
60 · Jan 2020
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
poetry died,

when you died.
60 · May 2020
Brush strokes of genius
TheConcretePoet May 2020
🌇🏝🏜🏖🌅

Squeeze a cloud to quench a longing thirst.

Cobalt sky of blue and whitecaps of the sea.

Dive right into nature, willingly immerse.

God's canvas is a masterpiece, with stunning creativity.

White glittering sand;
children play in with their feet and hands.

A woodpecker's knock, a butterfly's innocence.

Worms wiggling along the wet morning sidewalk.

Drops of rain running down the white picket fence.

Smelling fresh coffee with a whisper of breakfast talk.

Bread in the toaster and eggs on the griddle.

This life God has given us,
is one beautiful riddle.

Open your front door, inhale another day's air.

Admire God's canvas and don't be afraid to stare.

He's my favorite artist....
all of His work I am fully aware.

👷🏻‍♂️
59 · Dec 2019
winter > summer
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
the trees
wrap themselves
in slumber.
birds try
to fly away
from december.
winter comes
and schoos away
my loathing
of summer.
i wish
summer never
had to be.
summer is
obnoxious
loud and *****.
nothing beats
a crisp white
winter's beauty.
the summer's
rank and stank
of people and
garbage lined
streets.
individuals
in sandals
offending us
all with hideous
troll feet.
when i die,
i want to die
in winter please.
i don't want
to die in
summer's
smelly person
breeze.
i'd rather go
in winter's
crisp and
fresh clean
freeze.

'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'
59 · Oct 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
dreams
    do
   speak

but

ink
pens
scream


  last evening's images while asleep

    woke me up at a quarter to four

   captive, this dream was only for me

   i fell back asleep ... my subconscious yearned for more

ink to paper, this dream one day i might,

   share the sugary sweetness of this
  dream's
delicious delight
59 · Oct 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
When the dawn cries

   the blues

      the yellows

         the reds

             the oranges all sleep

Grey has a very demanding day in front of it

     each cloud a water color masterpiece of black and white

         the palette omits purple intentionally
    
             this day of grey has left me black and blue enough

crisp and cold green leaves are no more

         to the brown earth they have fallen

there is a chill in the air

            ....winter draws near.
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
remember,
remember back when you were just a toddler
and mommy and daddy told you to
beware of the monsters and strangers?

well,
what they were really telling you is that human beings/your friends are the real monsters
and danger.

never
remove your
eyes from
anyone.

once you have,
the damage incurred can never be undone.

eyes that smile hide a medieval darkness that sparkle like the blade of a guillotine.

a trusting fool
will always end up on the bad side
of a
crime scene.
59 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Happiness is only created when one's self is oblivious to the world.
59 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Blah blah blah with her...

She loved to be eaten.

And she loved a hard long ***** that well....

others took notice.
#iveneverhaditlikethatbefore

she asserted
59 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
When i told her that i wanted my last breath to be in full view of her stand alone beauty,

she smiled and
then began singing a hit song of yore by "the police" to me;

every move you make,

every step you take,

every breath that you take,

i'll be watching you.
59 · Nov 2019
love's baggage
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
when you

   f
     a
   l
       l

in love
with a dreamer-

don't forget
    this truth.

you also
    f
  a
      l
l

in love

   with their
nightmares too.
58 · Oct 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
I would give her
my life for
just one kiss...

and yet

sadly,

I am still here.
58 · Jan 2021
Weather'ing wither
TheConcretePoet Jan 2021
I wish not to wither from whence a region is in the throes of the season of death.
Salted roads, unknown footprints in the snow and minus a breath.

Lifeless trees against the canvas of a grey and slumbering sky.
I wish to leave when life and robust colors once again make love to thine eyes.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
58 · May 2020
Sunset anxiety
TheConcretePoet May 2020
🌻🌛🌻

Steadfast sunflower -
all alone -
you face west-
lavished in a grey cloud's tears-
and yet-
you salute the sky-
as the eastern shadows snuggle up-
good night brave flower-
good night-
fear not the quarter moon-
it's smiling at you-
Tomorrow's promise-
an abundance of blue.

👷🏻‍♂️
57 · Dec 2019
sudden
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
with a
    deep breath
he inhaled
  the
christmas
  lights
and snow
    as he drove
in the dark
  with a
broad smile.

  the next
morning,
   he was
dead.
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
You ask of others,
what you are not willing to do
each time you ask another to love you...
when you do not yet love yourself.

(For if you did, you would not ask)

And yet each day I watch you wander,
walking the lines of someone else’s shores,
searching for a foothold among rocks and sand.

Though within you there are boundless oceans
with light and hues you’ve not even yet imagined,
that remain completely unexplored.

You’ve not begun to swim their depths,
as you are too busy trolling the shallows
of someone else’s refracted image,
of the self that they don’t know.

Worry not about painting the sky
with someone else’s color
and find now your own palette -
the one that is yours uniquely
not yet discovered, for it will
only be found when you
find it within your self.

Journey within and you will see that
the kingdoms that you are seeking are
also seeking you.

You are the ultimate mystery of this lifetime,
the grandest adventure of them all,
the undiscovered continent hiding in plain sight.

Love has not abandoned you,
it is within you waiting to be discovered,
please stop asking others why they won’t love you,
and start asking that of yourself.

I can't see you, but I see you.

I don't know you but I know you.

When you let me,
I will love you
just as deeply as you love yourself
and we will swim your oceans together.

Love does not make you vulnerable,
it makes you invincible.
57 · Nov 2019
drive by
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
i graze
your
lips
with
a
drive by

your
eyes....

so hungry
asking
me why?

anticipation,
wetting
yourself
longing
for my...

leaving
you
and
knowing
that
this
is not
our
last
goodbye.
57 · Nov 2019
spontaneous thought
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
there may be
  more life
circulating around
     the inside
  of a
winter's
   slumbering
tree...

   than me.

i.. .

   i feel dead
already.
wrote this one in my head while driving for coffee this morning and looking at the barren trees that appear dead, but are quite alive.
TheConcretePoet Oct 2020
his entire life;

his sun has
hidden behind the clouds,
hidden below the
horizon,
enveloped by storms and by crowds.

his sun may not shine and thus will not warm him.
ebon clouds of humans seem to keep his sun dim.

his sun is his secret
that never gets shared.
his sun remains hidden because of the world, it is scared.

his sun will not shine for those whom don't merit.
his sun only shines on those whom he allows near it.

people - clouds - and storms;
they may all try to steal and hide his sun.
but for those that may be worthy.....
"ready or not"
here it comes.

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

By the way -
sunsets are only more proof that endings can be beautiful too".
57 · Sep 2019
Looming
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
The doctor said;

6 months to live

It might has well have been tomorrow
56 · Nov 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
You may,
  sit upon me
and ride a ride
  that you feel
deep inside.

  Sitting upon me
    is an ******
that...
   you will
never hide.
56 · Oct 2020
🌫"cloudy"🌫
TheConcretePoet Oct 2020
is it
the sea
that covers
the land

or:

is it
the land
that covers
the sea?
56 · Jan 2020
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Jan 2020
just
think of
all those
before you.

now you,
you
have
been here
too.
55 · Nov 2020
stop the charade
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
just about
everyone
thinks that
they have
a
"good heart",

just about
everyone,
right?

me?

i think
you're
full of
****!

your
intentions
may be
good but
you know
the
ugliness
that lives
inside
your head
every day.

stop lying
to us
and
better yet-
stop
lying to
yourself.

you have
to live
with
yourself...

and
thankfully
i don't
have to.

i'm beyond
weary of
the...
"i'm such
a good
person posts".

"i do this
for people-
i do that
for people-
boo hoo.
****!

for Christ's
sake be
honest
with
yourself!
you're not
fooling
anyone
but
yourself.

remember
that.

last i
knew,
Jesus Christ
died on
the cross.
None of you
are
Jesus Christ!

stop
the
charade.

thanks...

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️👷🏿‍♂️
55 · Mar 2020
Breath of a rainy day
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
Of heaven's rain a bird wets its beak.
The deer and the strays lap from the rising creek.
The lion's sacrifice the lambs unweak.

Horses and their shoes on a cobblestone road.
Lily pads a float to hold an old large toad.
Butterflies fly by with an innocence overload.

A dove bringing peace as it soars overhead.
Rabbits and squirrels frolic in their moist grassy bed.
Proof that God is alive, he's surely not dead.
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
advice
from ghosts
is advice
worthy of a
  cemetary's
ghost hunt.
55 · Oct 2020
because - she is her
TheConcretePoet Oct 2020
i love her because
  she is frail
yet,
    mighty like a
mooring against
  a hurricane's wind.

i love her because
  she can finish
my spoken
sentences with an
exclamation point
  at the end.

i love her because
  she is beautiful
yet,
   never acts as if
she were.

i love her because
  she's a simple woman so faithful, honest
   and pure.

i love her because
   after church,
she's
  my sauce on
    an autumn's sunday.

i love her because
  she's
the one that i want
  by my side
as the sun begins to fade.

i love her because
  heh...
    they don't make
many of her.

  i love her because....
i am her drink,
  and she is -

the straw that stirs.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
21 years today for my wife and I 🥀
55 · Mar 2020
Unslumbered
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
Eyes open
A quick stretch for the sky
Bones crackle
A independent scratch
The ceiling is still there
My legs touch the floor
A walk around the bed
My bladder cries to be emptied
Splash some cold water on my face
Laugh at the person in the mirror
Ready some coffee to brew
Sabre needs to go outside
Wipe his monstrous muddy paws
Ah, I smell the coffee now
Some cream and sugar please
Sit down with morning coffee
Write something just like this
Brush my teeth
Take Sabre for a walk
The morning rush is over with a shower
Daytime drama of life ensues
Night falls
I nestle in my bed for another gifted night
Eyes open tomorrow to do it all over again?
55 · Nov 2019
potpourri
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
yellow eyes
kick the ball
jaundiced lies
walks into walls.

blue and black
discolored skin
bruises of attack
violence and its din.

red fingers
shave and a shower
trickled blood lingers
lights off- i have lost power.

green emotions
stand in the doorway
envied poetic devotions
snow was a storm today

orange peels
there's candy over there
i left flats on the wheels
staring coldly without care.

purple cheeks
blackened hands
rotting flesh reeks
body heat this icy land.

brown water
sewage is often words
prose sometimes falters
flight of poetic birds.

white button shirt
teeth full of decay
feelings often hurt
sweetness often stains.

black mist
under the bed clown
death has no list
smiles are upside down frowns.
54 · Mar 2020
peace of mind
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
all that
i want is
peace
of mind

the storms
to stop,
the black skies
to turn
into
sunshine.

i wish
that my life
was full of
sunflowers

sunflowers
would chase
away the
feeling of
ominous
storms and
showers.

peace of mind
is all
that i crave....

maybe,
sigh...

maybe
someday.
my 4 year old grandson that we care for everyday is my sunflower.
his papa means everything to him. 💕
54 · Nov 2020
respirator stat!
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
backed up
sewers
and roses
are now
how i
differentiate
........

people?

let's just
put it
this way.

the smell
of raw sewage
has
become
overwhelming
in this
world.

most people
that
you will
encounter
are full
of ****.

keep a
respirator
close by.

i fondly
remember
the once
abundant
bouquet
of roses
in this
******
world.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️
54 · Mar 2020
hidden meaning #14
TheConcretePoet Mar 2020
most
of us,
are good
at
taking and
pulling things
apart.

but,
are you
good at
putting them
back
together
again?
54 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
if i blindfolded you-

spun you around-

left you waiting for my voice's whispered command-

if i suddenly kissed you-

would you know that those are my lips?

something tells me that you would-

you often dined upon my lips
53 · Dec 2019
listen
TheConcretePoet Dec 2019
your heart
  and your eyes
  choose
which human
   makes your....

pulse race,
    
your palms sweat,

   and butterflies
gather abundantly
   in your stomach.

attraction,

   magnetism,

gravitational pull.

they are all
  out of
your control.

your heart
   speaks
loudest.
53 · Feb 2020
hidden meaning #5
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
do not conform to the pattern of the world.

anchor yourself to your own wave.

you have no need for a life asea.
TheConcretePoet Oct 2020
autumn is
the
mellower
season

and what
we lose
in flowers
but not
roots,
we
more than
gain in
flavorful
nasal
fruits

autumn
carries
more gold
in
its pocket
than all
the other
seasons
when
collectively
bold

no spring
nor summer beauty
hath
such grace
as I
have seen
in one
autumnal face

everyone
must
take time
to sit and
watch
the trees
magically
turn into
a fairy tale
of magnificent
beauty
that seemingly
breathes

a beauty
a breath
of life
that shows
how death
can be a
beautiful
wife

a beauty
that
has no
rival
that
need not
fight for
survival

a flannel
blanket
a cozy fire
a cup of
hot cocoa
a lover
to share
the same
desires...

there's
no season
more
emotionally
embraced
and more
intimately
beautiful
than
autumn's
mesmerizing
face

for the
women-
autumn
is the
responsible
steely man
with boyish
looks that
helps them
feel
secure
wherever
they may
stand

for me-
autumn is
the woman
that loves
to inhale
poetic verse
no matter
the time
of day
in this
here
earthy
universe

this poet's
suggestion?

"fall back"
and
enjoy

fall back
into the
pile of leaves
like a
little girl
or boy

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
51 · Nov 2019
secret longing
TheConcretePoet Nov 2019
i write
  about her
often but,

  i am
sure that
      she
doesn't
    know it.
51 · Nov 2020
depth defined by a poet
TheConcretePoet Nov 2020
the depth
that i
think of
is not
measured
in feet.

depth
is a
measurement
between
each and
every
heartbeat.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️
51 · Oct 2019
Prove it
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
L
O
V
E

Is

Not just
   something
         you say

L
O
V
E

Is

Something
      that you
            do
*** is not love
Love is not ***

Love is a conglomerate of actions that takes time to prove
51 · Oct 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Oct 2019
Silence is

    Also communication
50 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Life's skies
are
never lost
upon
an
admirer's eyes.
50 · Sep 2019
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Sep 2019
Eyes peel open    -        
my nostrils tingle -
as the smells of soil and sweat
                          permeate the air.

The heat and humidity is unbearable    -
breathing shallow -
            movement restricted.

I only wish to wipe the sleep
from my eyes -
who would prevent me      -      
              such a simple request?

Anxiety billows for                
a brief moment      -
surrendering complacently -
as the frequency of
my rising chest
                                    slows.

I sense my sightless eyes
dimming                                -
resting shut -

I am so tired...
                    over the fence they go -
one  -
           two.        -
three...
                  their fleece as white as snow.
50 · Feb 2020
Untitled
TheConcretePoet Feb 2020
we have
all tried to
"drown our
problems",
right?

the problem
with trying to
"drown our
problems"?

our problems
are better
swimmers than
we care
to admit.

they always
float back
to the
surface.
TheConcretePoet Jun 2020
It's like watching the sun melt into the horizon at sunset.

It's two sets of eyes locking into one another's like neodymium magnets.

From afar you, yourself, anticipate the moment that their lips taste the others.

Chemistry builds as does the heat now watching two, impassioned lovers.

The moon could fall right next to them and they wouldn't even notice it there.

Loving deeply as one, which once were a pair.

Gasping for breath,
they are now each other's air.



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