Concrete

by Rania Moallem   Mar 28, 2017


No figure to
your drawings
no color to your brush.

I sneak to your letters
I see there
is no ink to your pen.

No sugar to your skin
nor sparkle to your eyes.

Your songs lack melody
and your tunes have
no rhyme.

I know you’re of pain
& transparent heavy rain,
chivvying music from
the broken church bell.

There is nothing
to you but the smell
of washed soil
fresh basil & thyme.

You’re like the abstract copy
of lost time, except
for your scents
that give quivers
like see-through thunder.

And I wonder,
what is it about your fragile
hands and trembling feet,
that makes your love so attractive,
and your soulless figure so concrete ?

8


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Latest Comments

  • 4 months ago

    by mossgirl19

    Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

  • 6 months ago

    by Pagan Paul

    Lovely write Rania.
    PPx

  • 7 months ago

    by Ren

    A wonderfully written piece! :) Well done! Beautiful job!

  • 7 months ago

    by Brenda

    Rania, I really liked this a lot. I read it a few times and each time I saw something different, something else. Well done-

  • 7 months ago

    by silvershoes

    I feel like this was written for me. I would nominate if someone didn't already. I needed this poem today.

    Not sure if you meant "your tunes has" rather than either "tunes have" or "tune has."

    • 7 months ago

      by Rania Moallem

      <3 I'm happy to hear you connected with it, in a way. And yes, have, thank you glittering silver <3

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