Archive for Concrete

1. THE HOUR GLASS • by Jamie Elliott Keith 10 Comments

     Once animal matter or sea creature’s crusty home These tiny bits of geological history Spill through my grasp so quickly I cannot count the number How swiftly they slide I snatch I clutch They slip away Pouring past the slick sides Ground down by water, wind and time Over humanly transmuted curves of themselves [...]

   Concrete, Literary
   
   

2. THE CLOSE OF THE DOOR • by Brian Edward Bahr 6 Comments

         phone     rings chatter  and        laughter    dancing          already rattle     of                       clothes                  hangers rustling                        fabric  zip    of a             dress squirt  of the                          sink           drip                    drip          thud   clatter     on                                         tile brush sweep smooth                       dab [...]

   Concrete, Literary
   
   

3. FISH • by Amy Corbin 12 Comments

   Fish  lie belly-up; inert and very  gloomy. Drowned  bloated  vermin  float  atop. Wrap- pers and trash hover in filmy brown   water. A rainbow slick glazes the mucky  bay. On and off the water-taxi we go.  Ravenous,  our  minds  shift  to  thoughts of pizza, wings, and    nachos. Grateful, we  are  for  the  beauti- ful sunny day.  The sign [...]

   Concrete, Nature, Poems
   
   

4. GRAVESTONES • by T.J. McIntyre 6 Comments

   these things make no sense sometimes it’s just things happen and then you die and no one knows why not a single soul it takes the breath out of you and leaves you gasping on a search for meaning in a seemingly meaningless world that is full up of tombstones dirt death worms and perhaps [...]

   Concrete, Literary, Poems
   
   

5. BLUE CHRISTMAS • by Mark Dalligan 11 Comments

   A log fire burning, presents wrapped, snowflakes falling. Dickensian background to the opening of our Christmas Schnapps. Glasses clinking, laughter flowing, choirs singing. I sit quietly, sipping fine kirshwasser. Your stinging absence, a brake on the ancient engine of festivity. Mark Dalligan works in the City and only by subjugating his besuited self is he [...]

   Concrete, Holiday/Occasion, Poems