"Poetry is just the evidence of life."
The act of reading and writing poetry should be accessible to everyone.
Concrete poetry, which involves placing words in a shape relevant to the poem, is an effective vehicle for delivering poetic thoughts to a broad audience. Through this engaging form,
~ a concrete bed of poetry ~
explores multiple meanings of space—from beyond Earth’s atmosphere to making the world
a better place for everyone through the promotion of social justice. Many of the poems evolved from reflections on interactions with friends, family, celebrities, and others who have affected my lifespace. The compilation of concrete poems and musings results in a unique visual
and verbal experience that entertains and inspires.
A safe space to sleep should also be accessible to everyone, so all profits from the sales of this book of concrete poetry will go toward helping people experiencing homelessness.
Dance with Memories
(published in End in Mind Pandemic Poetry Project, 2020)
I don't want you to remember
this time of separation,
a life divided
by disease and glass.
I want you to dance
with memories of hands held,
the heat of hearts
wrapped in laughter,
and the breath of hope
filling our future plans.
Omission of Sun
(published in Northfield Sidewalk Poetry, 2018)
Winter’s white space
what is known
about other seasons.
Hanging Gardens for Me
(published in Writers Night: Volume 1, No. 2 – Cultivate Your Garden, 2017)
I stand at the Gate of God
still missing the memorable green hills
and rolling valleys
of my homeland.
This scene, once a flat fertile plain,
contains remnants of pointless battles
and the rubble
of my dreams.
With love, you looked up and built
a miraculously abundant hanging garden,
an evergreen meadow
on arable land above.
You moved before me the earth,
the shrubs, the vines, the succulent fruit,
tender new shoots that feed
upon the dew.
Now wind-swept, an intentional paradise
of organically-wrapped columns, arches, and aqueducts,
a cultivated mountain
is skillfully kept.
You’ve keenly raised the river for me
and my garden of delights, I only wish that I might rise
to the level of being
your grateful queen.
© 2013 – 2022 by Julie Ryan. All rights reserved
No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Julie Ryan.