Poems about architecture


№ 289084

I can't find my friends in this southern architecture

I still have the scars on my ankle
From the day we got drunk in school

I have a few nights burned in my brain
I have some type of mind
That returns to a mountain girl
I make peace with bodies thought otherwise to be dead
I make no apologies for laughter in churches
And my throat was raw on the first day of spring

I miss flying high in that aeroplane
Where guitar strings did anything but strangle our hearts
I left the state
Just to play our soundtrack to a room full of strangers

architecture,  find,  friends,  southern,  t.

Author: Scar
Date: 23/12/2017

№ 228162

Words of Architecture

Architecture are words
It supposed to tell stories.

I should use it to write my thoughts
To tell something beautiful,
Something positive,
Should always be positive
A story that people (children) would love to read.


Author: NvrMnd
Date: 29/10/2017

№ 207593

Architecture wind

It should be better to think there's holes in the earth.
But the holes turn out to be filled up with your thoughts and it makes me turn into a person I've tried very hard to defeat.
The sharp edges that rip my walls down and remind me of the lesser times.
They are only a beginning piece to what keeps me up at night.
Browsing the ceiling, alone.

architecture,  wind.

Author: kaari
Date: 11/10/2017

№ 178048

Hold The Architecture of The Sky

Hold up
Architecture of
The sky
To greet
Golden sun

architecture,  hold,  sky.

Author: Stu Harley
Date: 14/09/2017

№ 176787

Afraid of Architecture

Steep steps and high walls
Uneven sidewalk and potholed roads
Missing tiles and leaking roof
All to be afraid of
Broken lamps and shadows hide
The fears that control our souls at night
Swinging like a fly screen door
Noises that make the senses cold
Afraid of stone
Afraid of wood
Broken glass and shutters thud
All it was it is no more
Architecture haunts your thoughts

afraid,  architecture.

Author: Micheal Wolf
Date: 13/09/2017

№ 176463



I laugh
The road over the Hog's Back
Closed because... it melted

Was the sun ever so
Back in your day
Eh Kit?

And what do I read
Mr. Marlowe?
Why words, Kit, words

That word magician
Dr. Burgess he presumes
To bring you back

To life again
And so it seems
I see your blood Kit

Streaming in the firmament
Nay only a Deptford sunset
Dragged screaming from memory

Your blood upon the page Kit...
Mere cherry juice it
Stains the words

And so to Deptford I
Do go
Thanks to Madame Remembrance

I a poor
Purveyor of poetry
Clutching at words

And here
A great reckoning
Not in a little room

But on a lost street
Staining the scene
A sickly yellow

And so enough
Of Prologue...
Act 1 begins

A smiling ruffian
See his knife smiles too
The blade eager for blood

Alas I
In so much pain I
Have no fear of death

Indeed would welcome
The flicked knife
If it would release me

From my life
A man prepared
To die if it be so

"Come live with me and be
My love... " I doth quote
In my best Passionate Shepard

"Wot? " he wots
Scared of my insouciance
The ghost of Marlowe by my side

Ahhh he the very villian
A scar from eye to smile
He aims to do the same to me

"Where, rogue... did
They get thee? " I mock

Marlowe's ghost laughs
"Aye lad... aye lad
To him! "

"Only one of us... "
I warn my hellhound
"... will come out of this alive! "

I pause for effect
"And I'm afraid
It won't be( hee hee ) thee! "

I take a determined step
Towards my would-be
Now trembling killer

Who all this wordage
Being too much for him
He flees

Ahhh the glint of words
Defeats the glint of steel
He my would-be-not-to-be-death

"What God or Feend, or spirit of the earth,
Or Monster turned to manly shape
Or of what mould or mettle he be made... ? "

I declaim to an audience
Of cats and cans and
Other streetly filth

I... I. . . unable to
Find the next line
And so I etc. , etc. , etc.

And once more
I am of Guildford yet again
30 years or more away

And there melts a road
Upon the Hog's Back
And I laugh to be alive

"Doth teach vs all to have aspyring mindes:
Our soules, whose faculties can comprehend
The wondrous architecture of the worlde... "

architecture,  wondrous.

Author: Donall Dempsey
Date: 12/09/2017

№ 168999


I oil my door to choke the cry that it makes,
And the rug on the porch hides the fact that it breaks.
My windows are broken, my structure's unsound,
But people don't know it when they walk around.
My white walls are painted and hung with a sheath
That is anything but the gray bleak underneath,
And they call it a portrait but nobody knows
The painting I framed hides a thousand black holes.
They could swallow this house and no one would see
Anything but this lovely shell of me.

It's still white, still pretty, seems all the right way-
So long as the people inside never stay.
And they don't (the dust on the floor is my proof),
I blame their absence on account of my roof,
For it leaks cold wind and can never keep heat,
But the truth is, you see, that my friends never keep.
So I protect my walls and tread light on each floor
And I never, ever willingly open the door.
I can stay tall and sound and sure on my beams,
And, if I try, pretend I'm solid at the seams,
But the wounds are still there and it takes up a life
Pretending to be perfect when perfect is strife.


Author: Nicole S
Date: 06/09/2017

№ 106613


Id like to see your nails grip the bed or the wall
Behind you with my hand in your hair as we fall
Deep into each other
The daughter of a mother
Your heart could leave mine sundered...
I guess thats the thrill,
Love her till she hates you and your guts are out and spilled
Need her like a weapon in a battle zone of war
Lead her through the temple of your body like a tour...
I hope she likes the architecture...


Author: Mark The Vagabond
Date: 11/07/2017