POEM - Sensory & Concrete

Not just the grit beneath the nail

After the trowel scrapes the pail,

Nor just the chill of morning dew

On poured-slab surfaces, slate-blue

Before the sun climbs. Not just weight

Of cinderblock, the sheer dead freight

Lifted and locked in mortar's grip –

The rasping breath, the sweating lip.

It’s deeper. It’s the thrum within

The mixer’s drum, a grinding din

That vibrates up the forearm’s bone,

A deep, industrial monotone.

It’s acrid reek of setting lime,

A sharp perfume of modern time

That stings the nose and coats the throat –

The very scent of structure’s note.

Walk pavement, feel the rough-hewn scrape

Of granite curb, its ragged drape

Against the shoe. The sun-warmed kiss

Of sandstone wall – sheer tactile bliss

Absorbing noon. Then icy shock

Of marble foyer, smooth as rock

Glacier-born, beneath bare feet –

A sudden, grounding, cool retreat.

The glint off a crane’s steel claw,

A blinding, momentary flaw

In vision – pure metallic sheen,

A sharp, constructed, hard machine

Refracting light. The dull grey sprawl

Of parking structures, standing tall

And functional, absorbing sound –

A hollow, concrete-throated hound.

Listen: the clatter of a skip,

Rebar dumped in, a sudden rip

Of metal sound. The siren’s wail

Rebounding off the glassy veil

Of office towers, sharp and shrill,

Concrete canyon’s piercing trill.

The drip-drip-drip from broken pipe

Onto wet cement, a lonely stripe

Of moisture darkening the grey.

The rumble deep beneath the way,

The subway’s subterranean song

Where concrete holds the dark so long,

Absorbing echoes, holding tight

The thundering passage through the night.

Taste? Oh, it’s there. The dusty tang

Of plaster fine, where hammers rang,

A dryness on the tongue, a ghost

Of gypsum settling coast to coast

On palate. Or the metallic hint

From biting air where steel’s been mint

And welded near, ozone’s brief sting

Before the acetylene’s bright ring.

The salt of sweat that streaks a face

Pressed against beam in high-rise space,

A human brine on concrete vast –

A fleeting flavour, not to last.

Smell dominates. The wet-dog musk

Of drying concrete, dawn’s first brusque

Release of scent as forms come off.

The oil-and-grease perpetual cough

Of engines idling near the site.

The saccharine sweet, falsely bright,

Of fresh-laid asphalt, black and hot,

A smell that sears, a binding plot

To stick the road down. Diesel fumes

That coil like snakes in urban plumes,

Caught in the concrete labyrinth’s maze,

Hanging thickly through the days.

The damp earth smell where foundations dig,

A primal whisper, dark and big,

Beneath the sterile, ordered grid.

Touch is the king. The smooth, cool press

Of polished terrazzo, flawless dress

Of public floors. The jagged bite

Of broken brickwork, sharp and bright

Against exploring fingertips.

The unyielding wall that firmly grips

Your shoulder if you stumble near –

No comfort, only presence clear.

The warmth retained in paving stones

Long after sunset’s dying moans,

A stored-up solar energy

Released slowly, patiently.

The gritty smear of mortar dried

On denim, worn with working pride.

The slickness of a rain-wet rail

On concrete steps, a thin, frail

Barrier against the fall.

This is the pact, the binding thread:

The sensory life we daily tread

Upon the concrete bones we raise.

It’s in the haze of sunlit days

Reflecting off a glass tower’s face,

The grime ingrained in every space

Where human hands meet solid form.

It’s weathering the sudden storm

That lashes streets, the steam that sighs

From manhole covers, claiming ties

Between the hidden deep and street.

It’s weary feet on slabs of heat,

The echo in an empty square,

The scratch of graffiti, bold and bare.

It’s finding, in a crack’s thin slot,

A stubborn weed, a hopeful shot

Of green, a scent of earth and strife

Amid the structured, concrete life.

A sensory bloom, defiant, keen,

Where rigid form and feeling preen

Together. Touch the weathered stone –

The city’s pulse, alive, full-grown,

Is sensory, is concrete known.

Short Summary:

"Sensory & Concrete" explores the profound, visceral interplay between human senses and the built environment. It moves beyond concrete as mere material, detailing the grit, chill, weight, thrum, reek, scrape, kiss, shock, glint, clatter, wail, drip, rumble, tang, hint, salt, musk, sweet, fumes, damp, press, bite, wall, warmth, smear, and slickness experienced in urban landscapes. The poem emphasizes how concrete structures actively shape sensory input – sound reverberates, heat radiates, smells cling, textures scrape or soothe. Ultimately, it portrays the city as a living sensory ecosystem where human perception is constantly engaged, challenged, and defined by the tangible, unyielding reality of concrete, finding unexpected moments of life and sensation within its rigid forms.