Long Concreted Poems
Long Concreted Poems. Below are the most popular long Concreted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Concreted poems by poem length and keyword.
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
Do you know where I came from
Do you even understand the loss that birthed bronze and silver before the whole
Do you know discipline the way I had to defeat hardships
I don't think you can begin to understand because all you see is 10 second clips
Then you think you can Pinterest clip my life like this fantasy board that knows nothing of the color of struggle
Then they empty the clip of hate inviting others to assume I'm not human
I feel pain, I cry, I smile, I hurt, I love, I make mistakes
But one thing is I'll always "Be Better"
No blackness could ever cover the shadows of the past, but I will take those lessons ancestors gave
Knowing their gaze comes with darkness
"I'm not back, I'm better," I'm not black, I'm human, do better
I will never stop sharing HOW BLACK IS GOLD
I am woman, not less than, I am conqueror and warrior, so opinions are less than...
I know it looks easy, but you have no idea what persecution concreted this confidence
Not to mention the ones before me
Florence gave healing to the nightmares that journey from Joyner
And Nightingale couldn’t repair some of this odium I see
Yet you still say must be nice to be me
Well, yes, it is but not for the reasons you visualize
I be black woman meaning I be strength that comes from roots that can't be broken
I be everything working against the system
I be the beacon for hope bullets steal from
Better not blink because you may miss it all
But you will not ignore this legacy
So, I'll leave you with this
Sha’Carri hair flip, skin rich, sorry you just starting to notice
But this glitter was gold long before I held it in my hand
My race was predestined, and I only run against myself
So, for those who wear the same shadows know greatness sometimes looks like failure, hate, and second place, before it blooms
p.s. black woman this one is for you...08/02/24
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
They laid and built a new road;
in the heat of the day it looks
like a stretched curved spine
along which newly planted trees
grow their skimpy wishbones
as they file along the verge.
There is no shade to be had
just the thin oatmeal stalks of the trees,
their skinless stiff shadows
penciling in a marching sun
as it carves out graphite periods.
Somebody thought to put a fountain
in a bald space by the road
close to a beige housing lots.
Each new home is tantamount to the other.
Apparently beige will not offend
the eyes of any colorblind buyer.
It’s not a good fountain, not decorative,
it’s the kind of fountain to be found
fronting small industrial units;
the bone road circles it,
as if those who walk its arid path
will pause to admire the utilitarian art,
the listless spray of water.
In the heat of the day
it looks like a burst fire hydrant,
the sun does not paint it,
for the font is too sterile to reflect
any kind of rainbow illusion.
A little further on, the road
pauses to die next to some hardscrabble.
At roads end there is a scattering
of broken and splintered bones,
concreted residuals
of the suns dominion.
There is only one route home now,
back along the lane
to the head of the spine
where the colors of the world
were abandoned for the bland tones
of white and beige.
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©
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.
An advent of raptors loiters over mall roofs.
hooded eyes scope the neon-lit spaces,
the concreted waste lands.
We wake to their screams as if this were High Sierra,
not Ohio where parent’s try-out or manage children,
open party stores, hunker through the coming
and going of baby Jesus; de-ice puffer jackets.
Gloom is plowed behind snow dunes.
The red-tails roam in loose federations,
their young, mob-handed and loutish,
the mature work alone,
scything through small birds,
the weakened and walking.
The hawks wing-dance proclaiming their time,
a time of frost-bitten electric barricades,
of bobble hats and mittens,
while unseen, a wind-rattled thorny brier,
recites its litany of seasonal prayers.
Sitting on the wire she glooms and alone
‘Down forth’ all beckon,
‘Bits of bread are there
Pick up lest the other demands share’.
The lame bird flaps in the air
Rolling down from her breast a feather,
Pecking a bit with a sense
The escorts saving by defence.
A hunter hits like the lightning from the blue
None finds out yet its clue,
Concreted blood splitting and dog's spittle
Absence of delay makes her utmost brittle,
The barking dogs in the narrow city
Whose have with her no affinity,
All green leaves falling upon ground
That is for love beyond of bound,
Odium! Odium! to the merciless beings
The supreme creatures for whom so long she sings.