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    Abstract Concrete Poetry
    Abstract Concrete Poetry
    Abstract Concrete Poetry
    Ebook256 pages1 hour

    Abstract Concrete Poetry

    By cupideros

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Abstract Concrete Poetry consist of ninety-eight poems on abstract ideas made concrete in poetry. Love, Oneness, Goddess, Truth, Death, Beauty, Feminism are examined in these poems full of entertaining turns of phrases.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherLulu.com
    Release dateApr 8, 2011
    ISBN9781257486083
    Abstract Concrete Poetry
    Author

    cupideros

    On Cupiderosbooks.com, Cupideros writes entertaining, enlightened, and intelligent spiritual fiction novels, novellas, short stories, poetry, puzzle, and maze books on sale at www.Shopcupideros.com and designs custom videos and graphics at cupiderosgraphics.com.  On Abyssarianism.com Cupideros demonstrates the pragmatic, practical Religious-Philosophical Self-Awareness and Other-Awareness of Abyssarianism. 

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      Book preview

      Abstract Concrete Poetry - cupideros

      by

      INTRODUCTION

      Abstract Concrete Poetry focuses on abstract concept retold through concrete poetry. Some XXX poems make up this volume in form and free style formats.

      I am pleased to submit this fiction book for your entertainment and educational pleasure

      Sincerely,

      Cupideros

      Sales@cupiderosbooks.com

      www.cupiderosbooks.com

      POETRY ADVICE TO YOUNG WOMAN

      (A Pantoum)

      Adrienne, here’s my best poetry advice.

      Write universal themes and subjects,

      Full of soul-turning phrases, and memorable

      Characters grappling with issues past one’s prime.

      Write universal themes and subjects

      Using unforgettable imagery with enduring truths,

      Characters grappling with issues in divergent forms.

      Master styles of poetry and read, read, write.

      Using unforgettable imagery with enduring truths,

      Surprise your reader, shake their minds,

      Master condensed styles, write concentrated readings

      On big subjects, not relationships, family, or children.

      Surprise your reader, shake their minds, Niece,

      Wear nouns and ride verbs when approaching readers

      Forget little subjects: relationships, family, and children.

      Make the dictionary your favorite reading.

      With nouns and verbs to tell your tale,

      Weave charming truths in your completed poems.

      Stuffed with the lively words in your favorite book.

      Write! Write to make the reader come alive!

      By weaving charming truths into your poems,

      Using dramatic immediacy to tease and thunder.

      Your writings will make the reader come alive!

      Adrienne, here’s my best poetry advice.

      LEARNING EYES

      Two-year-old eyes are eyes of wonder.

      Oh, my! Such a huge playground of sights, sounds and smells.

      Four-year-old eyes are eyes of impatience.

      So much to do and no way to do it!

      Six-year-old eyes are eyes of wisdom.

      I see how the world works. I understand its quirky rules.

      Ten-year-old eyes are eyes of the old.

      So much they have seen and yet never told.

      Thirteen-year-old eyes are eyes of an adult.

      Anxious to live and do such and such.

      Sixteen-year-old eyes are eyes of resignation.

      The world is a messed up creation.

      Boys discover their bodies trap them

      Into the world of work.

      Girls discover their bodies' trap them

      By its good looks.

      The wise finds a compatible philosophy

      Or religious good book/s.

      Eighteen-year-old eyes are eyes of freedom.

      Only to discover, freedom has a cost—work or school.

      Twenty to twenty-four-year-old eyes are eyes of true freedom.

      Time for travel, sexual play, risk-taking and experimentation.

      Twenty-five to twenty-seven-year-old eyes are eyes of luck.

      Some marry or start careers and some from this earth plucked.

      Thirty-year-old eyes are eyes of the sage.

      Nothing new under the sun's latest page!

      Thirty-one to thirty-five-year old eyes are eyes of fun.

      Since its all been done just go after your goals.

      These eyes prepare us for the most complex eyes of all…

      Forty-year-old eyes, the eyes of great progress.

      Some people establish their presence upon the earth.

      Fifty-year-old eyes, the eyes of great progress II.

      Some start new careers, enter politics, and discover spirituality.

      Sixty-year-old eyes are eyes of vacations.

      Some retire, some learn they can’t retire.

      Seventies eyes are eyes of survival.

      I survived this long in our crazy world!

      But the eyes of great success are the eyes of learning.

      Those possessing these eyes find life a mysterious

      Joy to behold.

      No matter the age set your eyes on learning eyes—

      And life will reveal her treasures multifold.

      COURAGEOUS THINKERS

      (Villanelle)

      Those who write themselves must not blink

      They should strive to live and to see!

      Courage, courage to those that think!

      Fear not the cloudy path that stinks.

      Take the path. Do not turn and flee.

      Those who write themselves must not blink

      Push yourself to your greatest brink.

      Follow fate, chance and history.

      Courage, courage to those that think!

      Tread, solve the riddle of the sphinx.

      Write our human soliloquy!

      Those who write themselves must not blink

      Before naysayers, do not sink!

      Will body, mind and soul all three.

      Courage, courage to those that think!

      Remember you write with soul’s ink,

      Flowing from Tao’s mystery.

      Those who write themselves must not blink

      Courage, courage to those that think!

      PASSING THOUGHTS

      People murmured one day:

      The World’s all Fucked up.

      Evil has filled its brimming cup.

      I decided to eliminate all the good-goody people.

      The marginally evil group, disgusted,

      Changed their hearts and became good.

      This of course left the

      Other evil group, the formerly, truly evil.

      When I destroyed the gold pocket people.

      The burlap pocket poor became rich.

      I relieved the world of the Quasimodo folks.

      The remaining people morphed ugly and beautiful.

      The smart people disturbed things,

      Therefore, off with their heads they went.

      Only the dumb arranged to get smarter.

      I caused the selfless to leave one day,

      Yet the selfish learned and donated freely.

      I removed the productive, industrious persons,

      In every clan shinning in earth’s mirror.

      The nonproductive and lazy started to work.

      The women did not matter. I took them.

      Then men determined to care for home,

      Burden themselves with the emotional things.

      Ahh, maybe the men do not matter. I took them,

      The women resolved to do logical and

      Scientific processes for humanity.

      I spirited away the truly religious.

      This enlightened the falsely religious.

      I went for it all:

      Gone with the over-sexual men and women.

      Bored, the non-sexual created more sex than before.

      After all these changes,

      I decided to leave the world

      Perfect as it is:

      ALL FUCKED UP!

      BEAUTY IS TRUTH, TRUTH BEAUTY

      Our lifetime clothes look like bodies.

      If peeled away these fashion abnormalities

      Would reveal our souls clothed

      By the divine Goddess Three.

      These fashion forms fade away.

      Made of clay and Goddesses’ Magic

      They allow our earth body’s acrobatics.

      The senses are our clothes.

      They do lead the way.

      They help us decide and

      Measure the life’s play.

      But we are far more

      Than these impressions beam

      Upon our animal,

      Body-heart-mind scene.

      The animal Body is

      Full of vigor, and needs to

      Immediately fulfill.

      It wants its due of senses

      Food pleasures milieu.

      The greatest pleasures being

      Sex, sex—sex, sex, sex.

      It swears all the time,

      If its needs are not met,

      All will fall apart,

      And cannot be reset.

      The animal Heart makes us

      Laugh and feel and cry but is

      Often confused on deeper whys.

      Unable to sort out the truth,

      The Heart simply decides

      This superficial half-truth

      Just must do.

      The animal Mind loves to

      Calculate, contemplate, but

      Is often misdirected

      And will settle any place,

      As long as it is a pleasing

      Spiritual about-face.

      This mind seems divine

      But is truly surely base.

      The naked Soul is beauty’s highest form.

      It is us as we’ll always be reborn.

      When we encounter it,

      We are wholly transformed.

      We act, we think, and we feel

      In another place,

      Three Goddesses closer we

      Still share the same Earthspace.

      We are moved to follow divine

      Tantric Karma Law:

      "Do good to other beings

      As if they were her

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