Lost angel
In valleys of concrete I have lost you
and in this godless city
where one hears the noise of sirens, brakes
and car engines, you walk
into someone else’s arms
and lights flash luring right through the night
while people cavort as if there is no tomorrow,
untill the morning sun rises in the east,
prostitutes wipe the sleep out of their eyes
and motorists curse and throw dirty signs at each other.
In valleys of concrete I have lost you
and now you have just become a memory,
another fallen angel
in this hell of a place.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Vilanelle #1
I see concrete bleeding just enough to be the city
And neon lights wound about a building like vine
The night soberly stung by colors so pretty
I believe you eyes know the nights strange strength and pity
And as I walk these long streets with your heart on my mind
I see concrete bleeding just enough to be the city
I will wade through your dreams and the night's anonymity
I will tell you my tale and bask in your bright true sign
The night soberly stung by colors so pretty
And you smile as if you can't see this town is gritty
And you smile to think that everything is just fine
I see concrete bleeding just enough to be the city
(last stanza lost in a freak row boat/breakup incident)
poem by Hubert J. Humperdink
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Concrete Forest
Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—
People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—
Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—
Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—
I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—
Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—
Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—
Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—
It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—
No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—
My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw
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Skeletons
Between yellow cranes groaning and bended
I saw people small as ants,
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
lost between ovens that cook glowing,
between hell-hot fires of iron and metal
I saw people struggle in the dusk
and this morning I came
past huge, long pipes that hiss like snakes
between yellow cranes groaning and bended.
Where white smoke are stoked through round chimneys
people were trapped and caged
between hell-hot fires of iron and metal
busy with their work as if dumb,
as if only machines with their humanity missing
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
through walls, doors and roofs that block off
lost in the circles that the city draws,
people were trapped and caged
with crying, screaming, gnashing machines everywhere
without any natural refreshment or relief
between yellow cranes groaning and bended
with tiredness, disconcert, alienation on every feature
they kept building
lost in the circles that the city draws.
Like beings coming from another planet,
ghosts just waiting for a coffin,
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
while some were clinging to black pipes
and children were laughing without concern
they kept building
on terrains with danger signs on the outside
without worrying, with there destiny determined.
Between yellow cranes groaning and bended
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
with their lives tinned, day and night
lost between ovens that cook glowing
and children were laughing without concern,
I saw people struggle in the dusk.
[Reference: Past skeletons of steel and concrete by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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This concrete city
infects the sky...turning it
into concrete too.
Concrete sun and concrete rain.
Concrete humans... cry...real tears
tanka by Dónall Dempsey
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Day Sounds
Silence in the city appears to be hard to find
The sounds we hear are often raw and unkind
There is noisy traffic that is violent and demanding
And the cries of the engines are loudly expanding
Hot mufflers expose of evaporating dark fumes
Rising up as smog like the towering stones of tombs
Traffic lights are humming to a buzzing steady tune
While street vendors offer goods in the afternoon
The sewers are hissing when releasing warm steam
Surrounded by laughing tourists eating ice cream
The cooing of pigeons is heard wherever you go
People in line are conversing while waiting for a show
Water is pounding against the concrete bank of the river
The brakes of trucks are grinding as they revolt and quiver
Then the whistle from a train echoes in the far distance
And the sirens of ambulances deliver firm persistence
The noise and motions communicate with us in the city
Leaving imprints in our minds of a life that is rather gritty
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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A Hell In A Concrete Jungle
A hell in a concrete jungle
A hell in a concrete jungle
We have already turned animals
and lost our sixth sense,
merely to fill the stomachs
we run days, months and years
after unreal wealth.
Love has turned into lust
Romance is no more pure
Violence encroaches
every inch of our being
Peace is long perished
and is burried in the land of demons
God is helpless. Yes god is helpless
to help humanity in this concrete jungle
Heaven has vanished and
this planet is now a hell
and the people live in sorrow and grief
poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
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Silent Witness
The neon haze of city lights
The tribal sound of marching feet
Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights
The tired and homeless roam the streets
The sirens wail the engines roar
A shadowed man just glances around
A victim of life's mindless toil
Lies cold and helpless on the ground
The window dummies silent stare
Bear witness on the nights
If they could move
What it would proved
To see them all take flight
The neon haze of city lights
The tribal sound of marching feet
Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights
The tired and homeless roam the streets
The walls shout loud with angry words
The people air their views
The poor can scream but no-one hears
The concrete jungle sings the blues
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete Angle
She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights
A fragile soul caught in the hands of sate
When morning comes it'll be too late
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Place To Sit
Smoochers and snoggers, and resting joggers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Ramblers and walkers, and street hawkers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Mini’s and Roller’s, and lady strollers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Old folk and young folk, and dogs with no folk
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Market traders and cavers, and money savers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Children that play who meet everyday
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Students and teachers, and lay preachers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Loose women and boys the ‘for sale’ toys
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Addicts and dealers, and police squealers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Dogs out for a pee who can’t find a tree
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Drunks in the night who like to fight
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Spray painters and doodlers, and bench abusers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Vandals and hooligans, and booted ruffians
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Demolishers and breakers, and obliterators
never stopped until they destroyed this concrete bench.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All to War
I lost my mother
I lost my father
I lost my brother
And lost my dreams too
I lost my friends
I lost my family
I lost my sister
And lost my will too
I lost my school
I lost my work
I lost my city
And lost my rights too
I lost my day
I lost my night
I lost my sight
And lost my morning dew
(to the soul of every victim of war)
poem by Ezekiel Johnson
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Plantation Boy
Lots of people walk about proud and free
Lift up your head start looking around
Theres a brandnew feeling of liberty
Like a clear bell thats starting to sound
Plantation boy
Cmon and get going
Yesterdays chains have broken in two
Plantation boy
The new move is growing
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Lots of smiling faces for you to meet
So many hands to help you along
Just shake off the mud that weighs down your feet
If you stand tall you just cant go wrong
Plantation boy
Cmon and get going
Yesterdays chains have broken in two
Plantation boy
The new move is growing
Reaching the hills, the valleys and you
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Years of picking cotton for little pay
Living alone in some wooden shack
Sweating in the heat of a summers day
This is all over, you wont come back
Plantation boy
Cmon and get going
Yesterdays chains have broken in two
Plantation boy
The new move is growing
Reaching the hills, the valleys and you
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Cmon and get going
Yesterdays chains have broken in two
Plantation boy
The new move is growing
Reaching the hills, the valleys and you
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Plantation boy
Wherever you may go
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
Reaching the hills and the valleys and you...
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete Angel
(verse 1)
She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holdin' back
Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
Chorus
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
(verse 2)
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late
(Chorus)
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
(verse 3)
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
(chorus)
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved
Concrete angel
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleep with angel
Every night when moon close my eyes, I go to sleep with angel.
My angel takes me in my darkness dreams on the place where joy
And sorrow embraces each other. Where shadows are friends and lovers are from Eden curse. Every night when I go to sleep with angel, in my darkness wishes, he
gave to me black withered roses with blood from his pure heart. Angel is hurt and I cannot do any thing.
Every night when I go to sleep I cry. There is no angel any more…
Angel died, and slowly disappeared from my dreams.
Tonight when I close my eyes, I will die. I will sleep with my angel for all time…
poem by Vanesa Rabic
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Concrete Mind
Can I get a pass, from my wrongs?
Will you make me not forget?
Are you like a concrete mind,
That's permanently set?
Concrete mind won't wear out.
For when she has a crack.
She only fills in where it's split.
Your wrongs she'll always track.
I thought I would be honest
Lead a new way of life
To concrete mind this is a weapon
She'll use just like a knife
She'll just use it against you
You'll never live it down
Her life is like a circus
And you're the lonely clown
And when you try to fix
The things that have been broken
Concrete mind will take your wrongs
And use them like a token
Where did I go wrong you'll ask
In each and every way
So if you trip and stumble
Concrete mind will say:
“Go straight to jail,
Do not pass go
Be ashamed
You are so low
Just like scum,
You always rise
All of your truths
To me their lies
You past is now
You'll never change
Forgiveness a word
I find so strange
I will forgive
But not forget
My heart is hard
My mind is set
Show you mercy?
Show you grace?
Go find those things
Another place.
All you give.
I'll simply take.
I'll do this till,
Your will I break”
Concrete mind
Will you soften a bit?
I've tried so hard,
But I want to quit.
Like one step forward
And Ten steps back
You throw me a rope
Without any slack
Concrete mind
Can't you see
From your concrete prison
I can't break free
So concrete mind
I ask one last time
Will I ever pay the price
For my past crimes
Your concrete heart
Your concrete mind
Won't let me leave
My past behind
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Memory and Oblivion
When all is lost, there is still a memory
From which a new city can be built in a new world.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
Oblivion cures the old wounds, and you must agree,
There is only the past and the future on the path;
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Memory will save oblivion from a bad reverie;
When the new city is built, it will be an abode,
Bestowed by those with memory to make others wealthy.
Before the temple, in the middle of the city,
Keepers of the fire all abided.
When all is lost, there is still a memory.
Fire will be born from night to be
New light when all knowledge is swallowed
And those with memory will be wealthy.
A new rose will bloom from the dark sea,
A city revived from memory and abroad;
When all is but a memory, there is still memory.
Those with memory will be wealthy.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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The City Of London
Introduction:
I wrote this in the middle of the night, many years ago.
My mind went back to when I was a little girl
and my brother and I went to visit my Grandfather.
We stopped that day to walk through the City, there was a mist that morning and a fine rain, the sort that makes your hair frizz.
The tranquillity of the early morning streets was rudely broken
by people coming into the City to work and so here is my memory:
----
Early morning after a thunderous night
I can breathe easy.
If I'm quiet I may hear the sound of birdsong.
Sometimes there is a mist.
It hangs over London like a veil.
Soon dawn's empty streets
will heave with massing crowds.
but until then all London is at peace.
The gentle tinkling of milk bottles
breaks the quiet
and the smell of bacon and fried bread
waft through the chill morning air.
Sounds of sirens fill my head and
concrete rises heavenward, filling my eyes,
crushing their foundations through my soul.
A sickness seeps through me,
everything beautiful is gone.
'Morning paper, read all about it! '
Girls hurry buy in tight blue jeans,
men in suits, some in Mac's,
high-heeled ladies, clicky, click, clack.
Poor old tramp, fingernails black,
stirs on the floor beside a closed door,
‘Got the price of a cuppa luv', he calls.
The girl quickens her pace.
A couple kiss in tender bliss
A young man sighs, a baby cries,
an old lady dies on the streets of London.
Early morning after a thunderous night
you can breathe easy.
You may hear the sound of birdsong
Sometimes there is a mist.
It hangs over London like a veil
poem by Ruth Walters
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Past skeletons of steal and concrete
Past skeletons of steal and concrete
I came this morning
and saw people small like ants,
between yellow cranes groaning and bended.
Where white smoke poured from round chimneys
and people struggled in the half-light
or glowing in a hell like fire
of iron and metal
lost between ovens cooking glowing,
people where captive and caged
by walls, doors and roofs that surrounded them
and lost in the circles drawn by the city
attracted by work from rural places.
The day was cast over and grey
but still they kept on building
and cement lorries were parked in the road
while workers were clinging to black pipes.
On the other side of the road children laughed
caught by the tinned pleasure pulsating
day and night without end
and beggars waited with stretched out hands.
poem by Gert Strydom
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It's Time For You Escape
in concrete houses
in concrete silence
nobody can not hear
your call
concrete houses are
sinking more than once
in the wine
when the clocks
are hitting
at the morning hour
concrete hearts
being getting cold
are slowly undergoing
the life
although it this way aches
escape ahead of yourself
nobody will catch up
with you
and even behind you
nobody will dropp tear
you will rescue yourself
escape - already time
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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Fallen Angel
I have fallen from sky,
Fallen to the ground,
I am the angel of sadness,
Angel of lost hopes,
Angel of lost dreams,
I am the fallen angel,
Fear me not,
I am here for reason,
That reason is to have a second chance in life,
That life I was given for a reason,
They took my wings,
They took me apart made me human,
I was the fallen angel,
But that fallen angel had one chance in life that she was given,
This angel won’t make the same mistakes she made before,
This angel will go down the right path that has been chosen for her,
This fallen angel know what she has to do to be forgiven.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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