MORE THAN BRICKS AND MORTAR
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
inside the closet
faded photographs
a lifetime etched on smiling faces
the echo of lives lived here
the weight of belonging
familiar ache in the hollow of my chest
place where I’m known and loved
imperfectly, completely
*Note: Poem originally published Poetry Soup in June 2025 but then deleted. (poetrysoup.com/poem/more_than_brick_and_mortar_1739868) This is my original poem.
when you throw a red brick who do you harm?
an ant, a beetle, a ladybug full of insect charm?
down in the grasses lives a village after all
They might not be vocal or loud or six-feet tall
but be very careful and put those hard bricks away
it is mean to kill, and what would the snake king say?
Ding dong, bing bong…
When it comes to this leadership… moron, Looney Tune, lunatic, dumber than a sack of bricks, umm… yep, sounds about right.
Toto could pull off some really neat tricks
He could do more than bark at green chicks
With the lift of a leg
After slurping a keg
He could make miles of yellow road bricks
Written: June 08, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I carefully molded the clay
Created from the depths of my soul
A structure that would allow me to shield
From the fear of unloving gazes.
Oh, what a vast structure I constructed
It would let me safely unravel
Avoid risks and fears
Beyond the perils of emotion
and fervent tears.
I felt chilly and lonesome in my cocoon
It was awaiting structure annihilation
Remove all barriers and discard them
I realized there had been a few
I was previously unaware of it.
I explicitly acknowledged it later
I ventured where I previously wouldn't
I'm immensely overjoyed
Since I gained a friend
We discussed every nuance
Except for the building's layout.
Is your house built out of certainty
are the walls made thin or stout
Is your mind filled up with questions
do you live in fear or doubt
Is your spirit free or servile
is your will unchained or slave
Is your heart the trowel you build with
and love
— the bricks you lay
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
Brick by brick, I built this home,
each piece with purpose, in which it owns.
It was the hardest task I ever did face,
As I made sure everything was in its right place.
Yet, suddenly, my house collapsed, tumbling to the ground.
My heart started drumming, I felt every pound.
Confused by the aftermath, and all the destruction in sight,
what caused this to happen, I pondered through the night?
Was it the weight of my burdens too heavy to bear?
Or the cracks in my foundation, too deep to repair?
I stood amidst the rubble, feeling lost and alone,
wondering how to rebuild what was once my home.
But as I sifted through debris, a realization grew
that sometimes I must let go and build something new.
Through destruction, there lies something beautiful underneath,
just believe in yourself and let your heart guide your feet.
Remembering that sometimes good things rest in a pit
and faith holds the purpose that mortars each brick.
Higher and higher,
brick by brick.
Snapped together
makes them stick.
Green on the bottom
then blue, then red.
Add one more block,
take it down instead.
Maybe a white one,
or maybe a black.
Who knows how high
I can make them stack?
When I am done,
I will let you know.
So, just let me play
with my Lego.
When people love to criticize
Please do not stay there long
Quit that spot by being wise
Or else you may prove wrong
When your efforts are not lauded
Instead when they are attacked
Then, only agonies get added
Happiness can never be tracked
When only criticisms badly flow
And terrific opposition is there
To smartly exit, you must know
Or else you will suffer, dear sir
When too many rules are quoted
With really no good intention at all
Your original talent gets cremated
Then in a deadly trap, you just fall
Never give serious attention to that
Where your genius is easily buried
In case you love to develop regret
Listen to the discouraging deed.
Laying brick by brick, with stickum in between.
A stone on top of another: dream quest and scene,
erected diligently, with a blueprint at the ready.
Each dot and line progression is sure and steady.
Despite storms, hurdles, and limited funding
With slow but steady aims, slanted rashly cunning,
with optimism, sharing in God's dream design.
Adversity shapes us to strive rather than repine.
God's will is a bunker, so every lesson is a brick
His word is final, and the walls of the friary are thick
Our foundation is the cornerstone of our existence
Lord God, the ruler of men, smooths the essence.
I savor being amazed; trust my full autonomy.
A heart full of hope gives way to honesty.
It's optimistic, soul-strengthening, and simple.
We stir up lies, and our ignorance is sinful.
Our love shrinks our hatred with each pulse.
It's tough to stay aside; must veins convulse?
I'm not sure what they'll do if we meet to shine.
Our passion for each other will be closer to fine.
Written: February 16, 2023
Closer To Fine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Jan 9 2023 poem
Heavy
My body
Is bricks
My breath
Shallow
I sink
Deeper
Too Heavy
For My legs
To hold Me
Thoughts
Like a
Weighted blanket
Trapped and
Tingling
Too Heavy
Helplessly
Sinking
-Amanda carden
Yeah, you're not Europe
but there's enchantment
in your bricks
so poetically stacked
into sundry shops, bustling bars
and sidewalk cafes
even your courthouse
and church
approach the grandeur
of those across the pond
A nomad I roam
for months
sometimes years
but always come back
to haunt your streets
and stairways
I don't have a Caledonia
I don't love you
or hold you when I'm gone
but I feel you calling
just the same
and feel your embrace
when I return
my favorite port
we'll have some fun
but even as I sit here
on my favorite bench
(in your loving arms)
and adore my favorite bricks
my mind's on distant shores
planning my next escape
I'll write a poem in this cafe
and caress your curvy sidewalks
and stairways with steps of gratitude
I'm here
I have you
what a lucky man
are eagle things
it was noticed
that she didn't take a fall...
the wings in her back
were really God's call
" I was walking
in a very green field
when I saw a bald eagle
who presented a shield...
the lines were fine
and behind them revealed
a blanket of stars
and a riddle of sorts...
it started my heart
so without delay
I seized the day
and found a path
through art "
72 stones on the front
they counted
but around the square circle
are three unmounted
sides...
the eagle offered rides
so I took a quick stair
and circled 9 times
adding feathers to my hair
the count is 12 days
and a 13th layer
but only One God
who called them all hOurs
the eagle nodded
and then she said 'stars'...
feathers
32+33+9 = 74
bricks
72 x 4 = 288 x 74 = 21312 'bacab'
2880 can be minutes in two days
288 can be hours in 12 days
so 21312 / 12 = 1776 / 2 = 888
The road sweepers
Giggled happily
While collecting and carrying rubbish
With a one wheel cart
The construction workers
Sweated heavily
While collecting and carrying bricks
With a one wheel cart
As children
We played secretly
With the one wheel cart
Carrying inside a little girl as a bride
And the cart rolled and rolled
Until it disappeared from our eyes
Together with our child brides
Maybe with only some heartbroken memories left
To this progressive world
The truth about children,
They’re tiny sparks that glow in the dark,
They're embers that warm the space,
They're treasures on an abandoned island,
They're vessels of a worthy cause,
They add colours to a gloomy day,
Their silly acts cast a shadow on a bright day,
Reassembling my childhood,
Fixing the lost pieces,
Straightening the contoured lines,
Bringing back childhood memories,
Admonishing, instructing and teaching,
Letting them know,
First, friends are sculptors and masons,
Secondly, they’re painters and carpenters,
What view of you do they have in mind?
What substance do they
intend to make of you?
These speak volumes of their craftsmanship,
These tell of the motive behind their labours.
April 20, 2022.
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