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Concrete Metaphor Poems | Concrete Poems About Metaphor

These Concrete Metaphor poems are examples of Concrete poems about Metaphor. These are the best examples of Concrete Metaphor poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain |

The rose that grew from concrete

Many a mind hurries past
the gripping splendour
in search of beauty, not to last,
while continuing in rejection of grandeur.

I look as the moments pass
at the wounded walkway.
The sand flows through the hourglass
and time conforms to seconds and seconds to day.

There, in the heart of pain,
at the crack of dawn
grows through the mundane,
purity, life’s mystery in an image drawn

Red bursts open in colours array
but expectation it defied
as time had not intended bloom ‘till the following day
and still nature’s scarlet tears are cried.

Dusk was meant to encompass
the brooding gem in the snows
but the bud unfolded in its stubbornness
and yet not its pedals froze.

I suppose the dark of night
and the bitterness of day
could not smite 
what would have its own way.

The bud grew beautifully in strength
and blossomed in wisdom,
knowledgeable in great length,
yet its leaves forbade a future grim.

Somehow it lacked endurance
and what blind humanity refused to meet
became the trampling of our innocence:
the rose that grew from concrete.

Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013


Details | Concrete |

PRAY MANTIS


								          !     !
								        !     !
							              !    !
							   @ a @
						      pray  mantis
						        sups     on P x P                       a  small
						     young       shoots                   cutworm   #
					          are lost      to          appetite    of pest.      #
					        Cycle             of
				        a butterfly	                  is
			        interrupted. Life,                        as
		          we know it, turns on                               its own
	           axis. Denial will not change                                      the #  
                 course of events. A butterfly                                           #
               met its fate in an altered state.                                        #
		    This is also our fate   XX
		  X    to be in an altered     X
  		 X            state.                  X
	        X                                         X
	       x                                         x
              x                                         x
             x                                         x
            x                                         x
     *****                                  *****

Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Concrete |

Eucharist - in its spiritual realm

Along with Jesus' discourse as the Bread of Life,
bears a powerful meaning of his divinity.
It's a metaphor with spiritual truth,
that identifies himself as food for our souls.

As a sign of his broken body and his shed blood;
the inner call reflects to abide in him.
We partake of the meal, a sacred meal,
to make us one with him, abiding in the Lord Jesus Christ.

What an experience of joy to receive him!
with a great deal of gratitude and reflection.
It's a spiritual fulfillment, a source of strength
that enables one to sustain his life amid struggles.

The Eucharist we celebrate each day
draws us to believe that there's hope.
As a spiritual food that makes us grow,
we're hopeful to embrace life and start anew.

Copyright © mark escobar | Year Posted 2012


Details | Free verse |

the green concrete

The green concrete Holding the green juices That flow and glow in growth That raise from the mothers on palms Opening up without fear in open waters Breathing life in the wide sea Bringing life in the bluest weather The green, the concrete and the waters The years of foundation The well adapted trio That catch the adoration Of many watchful eyes Of many touring minds Wishing to swim to its shores Wishing to climb from its toes Up to its climax Just to inhale its silence

Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2015

Details | Concrete |

Windward Blown


                                                          My heart
                                                               is
                                                          your kite
                                                      Tug the string
                                                            gently,
                                                      but hold it tight
                                                     Windward blown,
                                                         now rising ...
                                                         taking flight
                                                       Give your kite
                                                       plenty of slack
                                                       Watch it soar
                                                   into the atmosphere
                                             But if you carelessly let it go,
                                              it's never coming back here
                                                        Nor should it,
                                                      my darling dear
                                                                 ~
                                                                 ~
                                                                 ~
                                                                  ~
                                                                    ~
                                                                      ~
                                                                     ~
                                                                    ~
                                                                   ~
                                                                  ~
                                                                   ~
                                                                   ~
                                                                   ~

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017

Details | Concrete |

Are we all but a number

         In this world, in this life; am I solely a number.
    Just another tax number and an itemized figure.
    There are pluses and negatives; additions and subtractions.
   These are the balance sheets of life with gains, and loses. 
Is that the higher plan for mortal's man existence on this dusty earth.
    A salary, or no salary, and a bank accounts, or no accounts.
                          Zeros and Ones, 1, 0s.
A man’s worth weighed on a numbered scale of More or Less. 
   Was I created to be only as such, just to be a number.
     Numbers in hourglasses filled with earthly sand.
                                       ?

Copyright © Ronald A. Williams | Year Posted 2017