Best Concreted Poems
Our dog is relaxing for the first time in almost eighteen hours.
The interloper is finally gone.
She is so relieved; I have never heard her sigh this deeply and we have had her for seven years.
Yes, I am referring to the bulldog-pit bull mix puppy that has held us hostage and consumed
Our every waking thought for almost two days.
A heartless person kicked this puppy out onto our road on Thursday.
On Friday animal control said they would come and get her; but they did not come.
This dog, through no fault of her own, was dumped in the evening on a dark, desolate country road.
My road.
Featured once in a Kansas City magazine with this caption:
Donohoo Road, the most desolate road in Kansas City.
Nice huh?
Our porch is a war zone. This poor puppy that we tried to bring inside, but
Could not due to its adverse behavior toward our dog, and our dog’s incessant barking
Had to be outside for two nights.
Last night it rained all night.
Luckily, this strange little puppy commandeered the outside cat’s cozy bed.
Shark, the displaced cat slept in the garage’s first bay on a hard concreted floor, and was mad all night.
Did I say the porch is a war zone? Everything we left out there is in shreds – snow scraper, shoe,
Boot, gardening glove. This puppy somehow managed to chew an entire tennis ball down to a little
Pink center.
We are all so relieved it is gone.
My husband took it to the Humane Shelter and gave them a large donation for keeping it as they
Originally said they did not have room. When he told them the amount of our donation, they made room.
He said a lady picked up the puppy, and the puppy snuggled into her neck, and she will be warm tonight.
I hate animal-dumpers.
Categories:
concreted, pets,
Form:
Free verse
#5
I asked myself
Why can’t I be like her?
Calved in a very luxurious life
Loaded with an abundant wealth
She might never felt this
About all of these worries that I hold
That I also had a dream
A dream that I believed
A concreted one
Such concreted till I could probably just have reached out my hands and achieved it easily
I hold onto that dream for years
Went into a good institution
Forced myself to do everything perfectly
I put my own laziness just to make it happen
Was struggling and hard working
Motivated myself each time I bushed
But when it’s time for me to continued it
I realized
That I didn’t have enough money to spend
To helped me achieved my biggest dream
I cried and prayed
I confessed to whom I always believed as my creator
I asked Him but I was too afraid to do so
Because I already asked Him that much
I told Him about my worries
But I still didn’t get the answer
Father, just let me know
That I could still be success one day
Though the path wouldn't be as smooth as I expected
Papa, I am sorry
That I can’t keep my promise
I promise to make you proud
I promise to reach that scholar and study abroad for you
I am sorry, I couldn’t even make you happier during your life
Papa, I am sorry
Categories:
concreted, anxiety, father, high school,
Form:
ABC
Treason Reasons
Concreted cracks, abandoned train tracks,
unaffordable housing built like shacks.
Unplanted seeds gardens of weed,
never having enough to satisfy the greed.
Unseen view, is the sky blue?
Goodwill bought unlaced white shoe.
The frontyard seat on ol' bucket street,
cool air doesn't help that kind of heat.
Battles kill, unordinary run of the mill,
another happy mailman undelivered bill.
Where is our morality? What is our deal?
living here in the now is such a reality kill...
bmdavey@
02/24/16
Categories:
concreted, anger, desire, life, poverty,
Form:
Couplet
outside
inventoried oval-stoned
cathedrals appealing
chiming crimes of passion
woke citronella
fog
hung in cement-hamocked snowdrifts
cloaked slow on slick-stained windowsides
tenement sheets
with the pomegranate notes
of rhythms unrhymed
while all the uptown laundromarts
rising up
from insomniac-scrambled sidewalks
corked-copper moon tumbling earthward
like a sweet
sweatshredded pennants
of sun-saliva silks on rain-dribbled cotton
then
cherry-flat footsteps lust-percussive
under shamble-wracked sills
pause and then pass on
momentarily appeased in time by
blued bars on fly-fouled panes
bell tower-balanced above
taverns abutting back alleyways of
need
by fireplace mantle-pieced nooses
of nylonic shirts and poly slacks
and musts dusted-down
past stockinged-lidded faux plastic lampshades
passed on past magnolia movements
of fingertips on muscle surfaces
in-side
defoliate-spun spinnakered islands
chocked choked
in passing lynched adhesion
ignoring nicotine-papered stripteasing walls
or scotch-spat skirtings
creeping pedestal for
a moulded tangerine ceiling stuccoed into sudden mute
breath
rinsed down a night-scented-taking-stock
split-mirrored motel door
they go lunging over greasy chapels of
grit-grained
breakfast jasmine-tea-stained mock vinyl rugs
squeaking cot now like some
concreted river bed's of slump
of stun-spurned wants broken down
consciousness half-considered
stirring
Categories:
concreted, life,
Form:
Free verse
Remembering the mountain
My tears start falling down
Crawling upon my face
I departed from the wharf of home
And I am started to think
Crying the nostalgia of this mountain
It was once a symbol of my pride
Being the descendants of warriors
Telling the ode of my past raising hood
They were the warriors of peace
And they left the trace of honor
Reminding the generations
Continuing to rage the high seas
And to reclaim the stolen peace
Regaining my inherited homeland
Hold on to my tears
I won’t be too emotional
And raging the high seas
My heart must be firmly concreted
Gripping the peaceful purpose
It must be confirmed by my vision
Embracing peace back again
For the next generation to come,
After my children’s children
I don’t think further of honoring a name
A colonialist given-name
My forefathers were warriors of the land and sea
I am taking a name from where I belong
It’s mine and it is customarily authentic
I don’t hail the nickname by their opponents
I will never win the peace
If I will not do forever and ever
I don’t want to close the eyes of my hearts
I do contemplating
Unity is there ahead
If I go back to my indigenous beginning
To my customs and traditions
And my customary living
Indeed under the protection of Allah
Insya-Allah!
25June2015
PC-KK
Categories:
concreted, adventure, appreciation, art, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Enough of living in my head via manufactured means.
Never will enough be said about our fractured beams.
Trying hard to let it shine, maybe gain back esteem.
Showered over people like admiration for the queen.
That's a lot of power in adminastration and its deemed not fit for the masses,
an abliteration of any keen, interest in authority! some consideration if you please. What about the majority in bad situations that we screams.
We should be priorities i hint elation from reprieves.
Up to now i been incarceration for my every deed.
I vowed to give 100 percent particapation as agreed.
Didn't know every sentence had anticaption as a seed.
Growing outta that, an intergration from my greed.
Proceeding is the installation of something that i needed.
A view of admiration at a rose concreted.
Surrounded by an urban jungle, to the establishment we have conceeded.
**** it i can't be humble my advertisement has competed,
just gotta learn not to mumble when my works completed.
Categories:
concreted, life,
Form:
Rhyme
EASTER SUNRISE
Outside, perfect Sunrise
Service. The air’s so fresh.
Pastel dresses, pretty ties.
Resurrection from the creche.
Birth and rebirth celebrated.
Jesus - our Dayspring on High.
As sunrise songs begin, elated,
Oh how blessed with warming-eye.
The Son! The Son! Salvation
Hallelujahs in the blue and red hills -
Up goes the praise of creation.
Though a miniature group, it thrills
With anticipation of eternity nigh -
Gathered with the communion of saints.
Early risers savor the reverberating sigh,
Remembering our Savior - with no restraints.
We smile, we nod at one another
Knowing each person rose to the occasion.
Oh how much love, one for another,
In this small concreted space - a holy invasion.
Can you see the angel armies all about -
In power, quietness, expectation?
The one who rolled the tomb’s stone with a shout
Surely sees glory after glory without cessation.
We remember the snow white lamb of Bethlehem;
The victorious, merciful and just lion;
The great I Am;
The One who awakens Zion.
The air, so fresh, and we’re squeaky clean
Not because of water and soap
But because we accepted and lean
On Jesus Christ our Living Hope.
Dressed in pretty attire, not to be seen,
But to honor and applaud The Great -
The death and resurrection was the scene,
For the return of the King of kings, we cannot wait.
Bruised bones resolved, inhale - the inspire.
The second Adam resurrected on Sunday.
Laud, sing - with Holy Spirit fire.
Join in this spectacular prayer ballet
And the cloudburst of the sunrise choir.
Bursting with pink, tangerine and baby blue -
The horizon and the faithful spire;
The disclosure of God breaks through.
3/22/2023
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
concreted, christian, easter,
Form:
Quatrain
Weeping Willows
In a picture of grief
Death lies underneath
Scattered in the far
Stands tall
To show to all
A grey mass
A written note from the past
Weeping willows pierce the ground close by
Weeping winds whistling a secrete cry
Concreted angel
Lives on
In the strong stone structure
And the ground
In which she stands upon
Never forgotten
She stands to show
Her body lays in ruins
Turned to dust over time
But she still grows
In this land of mine
A soul that knows no time
Because she is now divine
Written by Sarah linklater 20/03/15
Categories:
concreted, angel, faith, grave, grief,
Form:
Rhyme
Feel like a prostitute, only used at night
Never appreciated, I don't think its right
People make use of me with little thought at all
Without me they'd be in the dark, could trip or fall
Never worry about me, couldn't care if I'm hurting
But! don't they complain when I'm not working
Stuck out here in the weather in all extremes
They all rely on me or that is the way it seems
Only time I get washed is when it happens to rain
Sometimes I short out and spark, oh what pain
My cover is old, yes its all cracked and broken
Does any one give a dam? you must be joking
Dogs cock there leg against me and take a piss
Birds **** all over me, don't think I deserve this
Men lean their girl against me for a kiss and a feel
Undesirables stand below me to make a drug deal
Police try to solve crimes perhaps stop an odd fight
No idea most of the time, I try to shed a bit of light
Concreted to the ground, can't move, surely not fair
Stuck out in the weather with my head high in the air
Once I was hit by a drunk driver and knocked to the ground
Police and firetruck arrived, driver was nowhere to be found
Sparks and electrical currents, gee whiz it certainly hurt
Firemen threw powder over me, too dangerous to squirt
I lay on the ground for a week, some flags around me
People stayed away at night, just wasn't possible to see
Then along came some workers, such nice gentlemen
Fixed me, and with use of a crane stood me up again
I cannot understand people at all, certainly not fair
I needed to be run over before they showed any care
They are all happy to use me while my heart glows
Don't they cuss though if my poor old globe blows
Categories:
concreted, feelings, light, write, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Into the Flames is where your soul will remain
The book of Life thirsts for God's pen of judgement and smite
Can't erase it even if you thought forgetting would please Him
You walked around without repentance holding on to your demons
Apologies excuses of the awful, eyes of grief as if bleeding
Only pity for the innocent not a group you believe in
As you cast your deeds of malice with a grin living, sinning
The son of God our Christ Jesus will bring you to a terrible completion
This illusion that you thought would grant you keys to The Kingdom
Comes as memory of your sanctity of self fades as do seasons
So understand that you will only become recycled, concreted
Knowing you forsake the Father yet reason so tattered and beaten....
Categories:
concreted, allegory, bereavement, christian, death,
Form:
Rhyme
By those virtues deposited in my heart;
Amiss those tandem brutal deleted parts;
Memories of prior judgment sinner wrath;
Presently mourners rants when will healing start;
Remorseful and enlighten yet still I'm sad;
There is a virus sin driven this not right;
Urban bound humanity stillborn so mad;
Now so death is total separation blight;
We are forged wrap hinged boxed up engaged and caged;
Deserting yet self-servicing beyond sight;
Where's our divine Savior now is He nearby?
How's that both the moon and sun shines at night;
I offer up my mind and spirit as bait?
Where's hearts delight be it now my soul excites?
The Lion and the Lamb view the Canary.
All with the Robins, Sparrows and Doves recite.
I'm tweeting chirping heart's delight through the cage.
Flocking unfurl feathers moving to ignite?
Demon's drool while being a concreted fool.
I was smiling during the darkness. I see daylight.
All of the flesh of my spirit so unfolds,
I am further delighted in the twilight.
As my head evolves, my soul has spirit wings.
Rises above the height of the heathen burn.
I have broken out of my well-deserved cage.
Out from the darkness now within my eyesight.
Spiritual brights of reflective rainbows.
I am channelling passages virtues holy white.
I'm given freed at last now out of my cage.
Open up to the living God for insight.
Fortunate am I now that I am now so there.
My spiritual birth now lit in candlelight.
6/20/20
WRITTEN WORDS BY James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Categories:
concreted, anxiety, appreciation, emotions, forgiveness,
Form:
Qasida
My heart was completely hearted,
My Past was a quicksand, my ancestors,
Died without a drawing to follow up,
Younger generation has no guide lines.
When a person found a search light,
And noted a formula of luxuries,
He wrote it for his younger generation.
Without roots a tree can’t survive.
A nation that has no roots as Dalits,
Are struggling to find out the roots,
Religion, a long rooted path for living.
People want to survive by conversion.
If someone has nothing to learn from past,
Present can’t build a concreted basement,
A life will waste the natural resources and
Future will produce a criminal element.
Categories:
concreted, education, history, life, lost
Form:
Name
You can smell the fall scented air,
Hear the laughter and screams at the fair.
See the dogs run loose,
Giving the kids an extra boost.
The bench I sit unto,
Had the dismay of an older clue.
Rusted edges,
Concreted ledges.
Chipped brown paint,
Turning a little faint.
If you look through my eyes,
You can see some kites in the skies.
A plane over run,
Moving briskly before the sun.
If you sit where I sit,
You'd be on the bench with a wit.
Rusted edges,
Concreted ledges.
Chipped brown paint...
Turning, a little faint.
Categories:
concreted, autumn, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
Desires,
Personal progressive approach,
A natural process,
Beneficial or non beneficial,
Understandable or misunderstanding,
Cooperative or non cooperative,
Responsive or irresponsive,
Favourable or upposer,
An unbreakable Productivity,
Remarkable consequences,
Appreciated or neglected,
Negative or positive
Impartial growth,
That develops environment,
To breathe satisfactorily.
A struggle,
Extremely inspired and cureable,
Learnable activities,
Knowledgeable practices,
And re-useable or repeatable,
Subjects and material,
Retrieval experience,
Wealth of nature,
Concreted moments,
That offer opportunities,
For individual pleasure,
Joyful, saddened, calm and troubleful,
A dreamable and memorable,
A fashionable and traditional,
Compiled or adopted attitudes,
A painful or reliefable path of thoughts.
Categories:
concreted, adventure, caregiving, inspirational, mystery,
Form:
Verse
It's a jungle in here, trees over grown roots intertwined not sure where I can find a gardener.
Your name stuck to the sides like foreigner not quite sure where you belong but you decide to stay here anyway because after all you've made the journey.
You've burnt it all down like your in some sort of hurry.
You left behind tree stumps, left dirt where there were once flowers pulled the roots out and concreted it over so no new life can bloom.
Left you're tomb in all it's pride and glory made sure it's big enough so no one can creep there way in.
I've started to dance in my sleep, trying to confuse the snake in my jungle. But most of the time I fall and stumble.
Categories:
concreted, analogy, appreciation,
Form:
Tanka