"concret" poems - Hello Poetry

Il est 1h27 du matin à Dakar Debout sur le balcon; un désir d'aventurier de l'inconnu m'envahit, de celle qui s'échappe du temps et de la terre mère qui l'étouffe ensevelie sous son noyau. Le vent me caressant le visage, je l'entend m'inviter à l'hymne de ma liberté. Le bruit des avions m'emportent dans un monde d'aisance et d'émancipation, l'échos des Zikrs me tirent vers ma raison profonde et ma familiarité. Je ferme les yeux en proie à la nostalgie. Essayant de me souvenir des beaux moments de ma vie; le vent me berce dans l'abstrait où mon âme se jette dans l'aura poétique de la magie des rêves. Le marchand des rêves m'emporte sur une plage éclairée par la claire de lune et un feu de camp; jouissant d'un ciel dégagé et très étoilé. La brise me mets à nu devant ses caresses ardentes et m'enivre de son odeur. Je me laisse flotter sur ses ondes. Le sable en velours réchauffant mes pieds au rythme d'un Samba; riant de toute mon âme et transpirant au rythme de la danse. Nos âmes se transforment en une unité d'énergie donnant naissance à un cycle d'existence de désirs. Je me confie à mon instinct comme pour consoler mon amour. A l'horizon, la morosité morbide condamnée dans le concret. Aimant ardemment et follement cet abstrait merveilleux qui me berce. Qui berce cet amour non réclamé, et cette liberté condamnée. Qui depuis longtemps poussent leur barque fragile à bout de force. Aussi romantique que la poésie, je danse amoureusement et passionnément avec l'inconnu de mes pensées. Et dans cette passion insensée, de l'infini sublime rêve que cherche l'esprit, la réalité envahit l'abstrait et en fait un asile. Un asile qui éveille mon cœur à chaque moment d'inattention ou de solitude. Un asile qui m'ouvre ses portes à ses extases fantaisistes quand l'ivresse de la réalité devient lourde et étouffante.

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Feb 17, 2021

Feb 17, 2021 at 9:52 AM UTC

Ooolywoo

Le marchand de rêves

Il est 1h27 du matin à Dakar Debout sur le balcon; un désir d'aventurier de l'inconnu m'envahit, de celle qui s'échappe du temps et de la terre mère qui l'étouffe ensevelie sous son noyau. Le vent me caressant le visage, je l'entend m'inviter à l'hymne de ma liberté. Le bruit des avions m'emportent dans un monde d'aisance et d'émancipation, l'échos des Zikrs me tirent vers ma raison profonde et ma familiarité. Je ferme les yeux en proie à la nostalgie. Essayant de me souvenir des beaux moments de ma vie; le vent me berce dans l'abstrait où mon âme se jette dans l'aura poétique de la magie des rêves. Le marchand des rêves m'emporte sur une plage éclairée par la claire de lune et un feu de camp; jouissant d'un ciel dégagé et très étoilé. La brise me mets à nu devant ses caresses ardentes et m'enivre de son odeur. Je me laisse flotter sur ses ondes. Le sable en velours réchauffant mes pieds au rythme d'un Samba; riant de toute mon âme et transpirant au rythme de la danse. Nos âmes se transforment en une unité d'énergie donnant naissance à un cycle d'existence de désirs. Je me confie à mon instinct comme pour consoler mon amour. A l'horizon, la morosité morbide condamnée dans le concret. Aimant ardemment et follement cet abstrait merveilleux qui me berce. Qui berce cet amour non réclamé, et cette liberté condamnée. Qui depuis longtemps poussent leur barque fragile à bout de force. Aussi romantique que la poésie, je danse amoureusement et passionnément avec l'inconnu de mes pensées. Et dans cette passion insensée, de l'infini sublime rêve que cherche l'esprit, la réalité envahit l'abstrait et en fait un asile. Un asile qui éveille mon cœur à chaque moment d'inattention ou de solitude. Un asile qui m'ouvre ses portes à ses extases fantaisistes quand l'ivresse de la réalité devient lourde et étouffante.

12

If your problems are turning themselves into menacing clouds of steel Go outside and realise how simple life is The plant runs on a wheel of four beautiful seasons each bringing a wonder Nature wavers in harmony with humanity Even in our ironed out wilderness the concret rivers are a dancing ground for birds who put their fate in God alone Iron boxes sit under selected trees in front of doors with untold stories to millions only in the minds and hearts of a chain of friends The network of earthling life is relatively uncomplicated each soul singing a note in part of an awesome chorus. Sometimes you just need to sit back and listen

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Feb 4, 2014

Feb 4, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC

dacia-b

Reality Check

If your problems are turning themselves into menacing clouds of steel Go outside and realise how simple life is The plant runs on a wheel of four beautiful seasons each bringing a wonder Nature wavers in harmony with humanity Even in our ironed out wilderness the concret rivers are a dancing ground for birds who put their fate in God alone Iron boxes sit under selected trees in front of doors with untold stories to millions only in the minds and hearts of a chain of friends The network of earthling life is relatively uncomplicated each soul singing a note in part of an awesome chorus. Sometimes you just need to sit back and listen

8

Half hearted At least it keeps a beat I miss your mannerisms and streetwise feet Thankful to be thankful at least we have a lead Pointing north or nowhere it's our choice to perceive Walk on sand turning to rock Rock to land a grass to frolick in Thankful for the chance to have this dance I'd let you go if you promise to come back Don't define yourself with your own mind let the season persuade you to keep god on your side Sit with me in this undulating sea of concret and center of the continent tides Roll with me in the green grass of waves that splash us by never get us wet Say thanks to the Sidewalks and their separation from the street

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Mar 14, 2013

Mar 14, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC

kyle-henderson

2 for 1 special

Half hearted At least it keeps a beat I miss your mannerisms and streetwise feet Thankful to be thankful at least we have a lead Pointing north or nowhere it's our choice to perceive Walk on sand turning to rock Rock to land a grass to frolick in Thankful for the chance to have this dance I'd let you go if you promise to come back Don't define yourself with your own mind let the season persuade you to keep god on your side Sit with me in this undulating sea of concret and center of the continent tides Roll with me in the green grass of waves that splash us by never get us wet Say thanks to the Sidewalks and their separation from the street

12

Lost has become an expression to me, not a sensation of unknowing more of a sensation of loss of myself lost, im lost without you, without it i might be dull but without you, Im nothing but a shell your the scrap i have left, silk that weighs more then gold, you have a heart of fire ive been told, i want it, wrapped in ice and dipped in sugar, I belive i am the one who can take you there but we went from 80 to 0 real fast.. and I wasnt wearing a seatbelt but christ i still have whip lash because my unconditional love for you coaxed me into safety, i took of my harness and let myself be me, and now your saying i should take me away from me, that i should just simply stop beeing what i am its not so easy when all you have to fix a concret wall is craft paper I get that you think im a lady killer and i despise the fact you think i enjoy it, but i understand your misconceptions, i know what its like to be stuck in your head without a lock for the broken key around your neck but unlike you think, my tounge is dull as butter knife on any other median but paper, my skull is as emptier of lust for another woman then a gay priest married to Christ, ' you have nothing to fear sweet heart, i dont want to go anywhere, I know you think im a brick wall, of problems and cracks and faults and your mad your out of mortor to fix me just understand knocking me back down doesnt get me any further foreward.. be declicate when you build me back up... your building yourself a future.. this broken fence, this unshapped clay, is yours now to ply and toy with. No one elses, just say you love me one more time so i can sleep.. and understand im trying as hard as i can, to be the man you want me to be

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May 17, 2015

May 17, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC

Actualityandfalseness

Actions speak louder then words,

Lost has become an expression to me, not a sensation of unknowing more of a sensation of loss of myself lost, im lost without you, without it i might be dull but without you, Im nothing but a shell your the scrap i have left, silk that weighs more then gold, you have a heart of fire ive been told, i want it, wrapped in ice and dipped in sugar, I belive i am the one who can take you there but we went from 80 to 0 real fast.. and I wasnt wearing a seatbelt but christ i still have whip lash because my unconditional love for you coaxed me into safety, i took of my harness and let myself be me, and now your saying i should take me away from me, that i should just simply stop beeing what i am its not so easy when all you have to fix a concret wall is craft paper I get that you think im a lady killer and i despise the fact you think i enjoy it, but i understand your misconceptions, i know what its like to be stuck in your head without a lock for the broken key around your neck but unlike you think, my tounge is dull as butter knife on any other median but paper, my skull is as emptier of lust for another woman then a gay priest married to Christ, ' you have nothing to fear sweet heart, i dont want to go anywhere, I know you think im a brick wall, of problems and cracks and faults and your mad your out of mortor to fix me just understand knocking me back down doesnt get me any further foreward.. be declicate when you build me back up... your building yourself a future.. this broken fence, this unshapped clay, is yours now to ply and toy with. No one elses, just say you love me one more time so i can sleep.. and understand im trying as hard as i can, to be the man you want me to be

39

Three men put Steele in his body and drained it out, Draped him over the top rail like a rug and they hanged him off of it. His last breath was deep and could be heard down the 100 yard stretch of concrete walls and cell space. He kicked until the last ounce of energy was finally released from his body into what one would hope to be heaven. We just want justice and a little bit of sustenance, Forced to hate ourselves they call us a suspect. The substance of colorful minds in a dangerous town The new wisdom of ancient civilizations Produced in a slave ship Concret walls embedded in the thick of a desert - I used to get anxious Chalk it up to the theory of natural selection I'm the product of my enviornment but who’s the supplier economic redistribution and product exchanges Open source the government for growth and development Enlightenment is just becoming reunited with the mother ship Paradoxically I went to the Darkside to find this convenient Mash up of asatru, Egyptian archetypes and Aztec brother hoods Im the type to get lost in the stars while they'd rather have me masked up in the back of a cop car this is not poetry Tactical plots and pre calculated attacks on geographical chalk boards. this is not poetry this is math geo logical rock wars This is not poetry Striped up and tattooed in patches we fought for.

0

May 5, 2017

May 5, 2017 at 12:29 PM UTC

wedgiemiller

politico

Three men put Steele in his body and drained it out, Draped him over the top rail like a rug and they hanged him off of it. His last breath was deep and could be heard down the 100 yard stretch of concrete walls and cell space. He kicked until the last ounce of energy was finally released from his body into what one would hope to be heaven. We just want justice and a little bit of sustenance, Forced to hate ourselves they call us a suspect. The substance of colorful minds in a dangerous town The new wisdom of ancient civilizations Produced in a slave ship Concret walls embedded in the thick of a desert - I used to get anxious Chalk it up to the theory of natural selection I'm the product of my enviornment but who’s the supplier economic redistribution and product exchanges Open source the government for growth and development Enlightenment is just becoming reunited with the mother ship Paradoxically I went to the Darkside to find this convenient Mash up of asatru, Egyptian archetypes and Aztec brother hoods Im the type to get lost in the stars while they'd rather have me masked up in the back of a cop car this is not poetry Tactical plots and pre calculated attacks on geographical chalk boards. this is not poetry this is math geo logical rock wars This is not poetry Striped up and tattooed in patches we fought for.

25

Come away with her, Into a place where This frozen time never fades, Both far and w i d e Come away with her, You will only see The still standing form of a tree That partook in composing reality She's dressed in eternal white, Florescent blue street light Concret and a barrel, Grass and gravel Sun soaked murky water, Metal for the leather orange baller A place where one rose stays true And the born again Mind body and soul Is ever-present enough for you Time is past and past, Is forever present A hand caresses her sunken face, A heavenly place But with just one gust of wind She opens her tired eyes, The hand is but only mine

0

Jul 3, 2017

Jul 3, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC

bluevelvet

Beginning

Come away with her, Into a place where This frozen time never fades, Both far and w i d e Come away with her, You will only see The still standing form of a tree That partook in composing reality She's dressed in eternal white, Florescent blue street light Concret and a barrel, Grass and gravel Sun soaked murky water, Metal for the leather orange baller A place where one rose stays true And the born again Mind body and soul Is ever-present enough for you Time is past and past, Is forever present A hand caresses her sunken face, A heavenly place But with just one gust of wind She opens her tired eyes, The hand is but only mine

25