Concrete Metaphor Poems | Concrete Poems About Metaphor
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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
@ a @
sups on P x P a small
young shoots cutworm #
are lost to appetite of pest. #
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
Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2015
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
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
Tug the string
but hold it tight
now rising ...
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
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