Best Aerodynamic Poems
Aloft, with keen eyes in sorbet skies’ raspberry half-light
visceral vibrations of vitality does await.
Soaring in a hush, with plumage plush, a silent stealth kite,
he glissades on ghostly winds with mystical wings of fate.
Poised to plummet from his summit of purple sundown spread
with wingspan wide, wreathed gradual glide, hunts a twilight hawk.
Floating form causes flocks to brainstorm on life or death dread,
those flying forlorn, late to roost, are reduced by his stalk.
Aerodynamic, his dramatic dive deals destiny,
raptor raptly pursues passerine through air’s plum-bruised dim.
Whispering wings whisk to live and not die desperately,
over the arborvitaes the future for one is grim.
If it’s true that energy never dies; its cries transform,
then songbird's notes will ascend on hunter's wings in reform.
Susan Ashley
December 3, 2017
~ First Place ~
Contest: Your Best Poem In The Last Year
Sponsor: Silent One
~ Seventh Place ~
Contest: Best Rhyming Poem October - December 2017
Sponsor: John Hamilton
the only tree for a thousand miles
gave him welcome if temporary shade
a kaleidoscope of mockingbirds filling its branches
it was no longer possible to be blind
but very possible to be jailed
for being unaware of our surroundings
being that we are panphibians capable of TV
where apathy and turmoil don't mix
wracking our brains for the worst solution
every day since time began again
banding bending binding bonding bundling
mind turned upon itself like minds tend to do
a moth eaten panorama of agonies
everything still broken the breakers unpunished
our narrative not telling anyone anything new
long live the revolution in wisdom
that's my drooling occupational therapy grin
it's gotten me out of more than one derailment
feeling life as a prelude to a guillotine basket
or worse a juggernaut of ambition
now that will immediately inaugurate
a prison epidemic of eyeball rolling
can we escape seeing the unseen
or is it just a bigger cage
don't let the blighters
sell you your own real estate
or discoveries in hysteria research
from the Intergalactic Whats Next Council
acting in accord with the statistics
make it more aerodynamic
everything means something
a tool for every job
daily nightly I try to be less stupid
a simple formula designed for
the sweet gurgling idiot infant within
out cold but still in the game
now you got me laughing
momentarily dazed and surprised
prepare only for the eventual
because what remains tends to
influence what is to come
in a logic both apparent and subtle
not exactly free from ahem connotation
as most doors don't open themselves
meanwhile somewhere back in history
the Dog Clan had trouble finding women
with eight or ten ****
there that opened something up
from the spare parts bin
apparently his bulging eyeballs
were on full creme d'menthe death ray
the universal sense of alarm just went off
wailing it's not all brain chemistry
he spoke many tongues in faucet mode
the ramifications came tumbling out
but often heading in opposite directions
while the oppressive crows circled
where the Wizard parks his wagon
every home from Kansas to Atlantis
instituted a reign of madness
terror and ballroom dancing
For half an hour,
he was a few feet in front of me,
trying to tame the little metal beast,
jittery under the torrent of none-too-gentle
dos and don'ts coming from me,
his 6-year-old legs getting bullied by the pedals,
his hands on the handlebars fighting the side-to-side
spasms of the front wheel,
all four limbs wrestling with the fear in his mind.
Then, suddenly, he was 20 feet ahead of me,
then 50, 80,
the short sleeves of his oversized tee-shirt flapping like
fledging wings,
his neck and arms looking especially scrawny in the
horizontal lift-off,
hair gelled by the newfound wind into an
aerodynamic crown,
all of him flying down the promenade of the
dusky park.
The world has many lessons in store to replace
the things I’ve tried
to teach him through the years.
Just not this one.
cannot fly but does
her bumblebee confidence
trumps the doubters
MY heart rate raced as I sat and marveled at
this machine. A Cervelo S-5 carbon Bicycle.
This must be a dream!
So Aerodynamic and efficient with a stream
lined design. With a DI-2 shifter that shifts
precisely and is so divine.
I'm sitting here for several hours on my new
racing bike. They're tweaking it perfectly, and
making it right.
A true masterpiece that is designed for speed.
Which every adrenaline junkie definitely needs.
I quickly fall in love with the way that it feels.
At ten thousand dollars, its quality revealed.
As I get on it, it fits like a glove. I shift it quickly
as I start to take off.
I race with an accelerating rhythm, at maximum
speed. What an experience, a euphoric feeling
that overtakes me!
My heart pounds with excitement and my thighs
start to burn, as lactic acid builds up, rounding an
apex of a treacherous turn.
I glanced at my Garmin , peddling quickly in this
competitive race. Twenty-six miles an hour, I
average, pushing myself, at a grueling pace!
My heart pumps as I spin up this hill, anticipating
the descent, oh my what a thrill!
I try catching my breath as my lungs cry out for air.
Reaching a pinnacle point of exhaustion, and
borderline despair!
I'm pushing my cadence with everything I got.
Failure is not an option, like it or not!
I'm shooting for King of the Mountain, in this heart
stopping mile. Thank God it's all over, as I stop and
relax, for a while!
It's all finished now, as I check out the Strava on line.
And much to my amazement, I am the fastest, of all
time!!
I wish I could take credit, and be solely responsible
for this great feat, but I know in my heart, it was a
great effort, made by My Bicycle and Me.
The 90’s were not easy, but my spouse and I got by.
Both our children, grown, soon were on their own.
The syndrome known as “empty nest” didn’t even touch us.
If anything, those wings of mine spread splendidly
as I ascended, full of hope, into a new Millennial sky.
In 2000, my age was 45, and definitely, I was in my prime.
Having taken up guitar, I strummed to songs I sang for just myself.
I belly-danced, lifted weights, did boxing and aerobics.
Reading up on fitness tips, and eating for my blood type,
I was at my best. “Aerodynamic,” this bird could fly;
even years of therapy on a painful neck were starting to pay off!
Around this time, I also took three fascinating trips,
first seeing the Big Apple for my very first time.
Also I basked in the sun and in the fun of a great Bahamas cruise.
Later, with a friend, I enjoyed a glorious week in Rio de Janeiro.
Of all the things feathering my not-so-empty nest,
one stood out, which later would define the woman I’ve become today.
Embracing the muse I’d abandoned in my youth, I learned to soar with poetry!
Today, twelve years later, I fly through skies much too often gloomy,
recalling a time before our world went mad - the time when skies were bright.
Written by Andrea Dietrich, Jan. 6, 2012
For nette onclaud's....AT THIS AGE Poetry Contest
My favorite wild animal is
as strong as Hulk Hogan
and eats fresh quail.
She is as strong as
Chuck Norris, and Rocky,
and they fly faster than mail.
My favorite animal makes a
hungry cheetah look unnaturally slow.
He conforms into a aerodynamic
teardrop when he hunts below.
My favorite wild animal is
a dark bird of prey,
who makes quick strikes.
When mice and rats
and small birds watch them
carry off their friends,
they yell "Yikes!"
Clocked at 242 mph
they are the fastest
wild animals on earth.
The mama
peregrine falcon
reproduces in litters
of three or four eggs,
30 days until birth.
They are located everywhere
except the rain forest,
New Zealand and the poles.
Hungry foxes would
love to catch these white-faced,
yellow-eyed creatures, but they're too slow.
Peregrine's enemies
are the bald eagles,
great horned owl, and the hawks.
They were eating
carrier pigeons in France,
and lots of Frenchmen squawked.
Their natural color is
black and gray;
they strike so quickly, and on time.
They've been off the
endangered list since
August 25th, 1999.
If you ever see a teardrop
shape dropping toward you
swiftly from the sky,
Check your pockets
for fresh quail.
If it's not there,
you're going to die.
written May 12, 2018
The lean old men in my vicinity
wake to find themselves a day older
then turn away from the mirror to reflect
on their miserable circumstance.
Then they masque their decay with cologne,
snap on their one-piece spandex sportswear
and wheel off to meet their ancient colleagues for tea.
Along the way they blast glances at a car
that dares to edge past with its foul exhaustion
until at last, snapping locks onto spoked wheels,
the knights errant mingle at tea, glorious
in their molded aerodynamic helmets.
They are one for all, and all for themselves,
and their speed dials connect to the bank, the spa,
the athletic wear store, the restaurant, and the escort service,
for after their sweat grey romp across town,
they whirl into the finest hotels by the harbor where they strip, shower,
wrap their wrinkles in snow white terry towel shrouds,
and await the knock of their Tuesday morning girl.
From their Victorian styled suites with golden phones for service
they call their brokers and shuffle stocks in their decks till
check-out time. They glare at an insouciant desk clerk
whose obeisance has not been forthcoming and, quickly insulted,
call the general manager and have her job, as promised.
Long, long is the bicycle ride home that stops them for the evening.
wife the third proffers white wine in fluted crystal, laments her
feverish responsibilities as a Matron of the Arts (ignored, of course
by the lean old men who slide into their pyjama suits
and slumber by the fire while Rachmaninoff plays his Second.)
They will die—just not today,
for tomorrow is still their fat child,
waiting to be eaten.
Taking the Top Off the Bottom
Have a goal of taking your piece of the world apart,
Taking on, as many as you can, life’s kluges and quirks,
Buy a ticket to the reach the matter’s heart,
Aim to see how the inside works.
It takes imagination, the trajectory of a dart,
To see what is obscured, what lurks,
Shedding light on life’s gremlins’ starts,
Ending demons that drive us berserk.
But though it takes aerodynamic parts,
Be straight as an arrow or your effort won’t work,
Anything has a cause-effect mart,
Paying the asking price certainly irks.
Not paying is like swallowing a quart,
Of 100 proof liquid moonshine murk.
Getting beneath the muddy bottom is an art,
That teaches how to use a scalpel and dirk,
And to be alert, and Heaven knows we need more lerts
"The Quietest War"
Solitude on silent paws
stretches strategically
under covers
a velvet skinned
war map to be read
by commanding
hands and fingers
welcomes the
Quietest War
gliding over
soft mountains
like he’s some
Messerschmitt
tasting the thrill
he's all hard metal
grazing bullets
Counter intelligence
pierces the barrier
sound the alert
She’s some kind of
advanced aerodynamic
Smiling Spitfire
winning
the Quietest War
taken
one day
at a time
(LadyLabyrinth /2020)
“As I walk this line, I am bound by the other side
And it's for my heart that I'll live
'Cause you'll never die
Well if you want to know me, I'm a war
Companion...”
Humpty Dumpty had no yolk
As oft implied to younger folk.
This hatched idea in oviform
Should never have become the norm.
And so, before it is too late
I mean to set the record straight.
For Humpty was a tortoise bold
With hankerings to break the mould.
‘Why should it be?’ he’d often sigh
‘That we chelonians cannot fly?’
With lofty thoughts, aerodynamic
He climbed the wall – no sign of panic.
His oak-leaf wings in ten-fold ply
Assured success in his mind’s eye
But birds in flight looked on in dread
Knowing too well what lay ahead!
It's great to hold high aspirations
But best to know one’s limitations!
Now Humpty is content to roam
At leisure in his mobile home.
THE MYSTERY OF HUMPTY DUMPTY CONTEST
05/07/18
Neck pulsating, close shave shines over whiskers
Stiff collar pressure, raced anticipation simmers
Key twist intrigue spurs engine's orange rage
Needle throws redline on wide torque gauge
Jaw rigid, fingers grip cockpit lethal leather wheel
G-force grabs chest, insolent beast thrusts surreal
Monster inflamed incredulously adheres to tar
Salivating lion's ravenous rumble has zero par
Ripping up bitumen, sardonic responsive tyres rivet
Road shred's exhausted under rocket fume exhibit
Airtight capsule, caramel cow hide hugs tamer
Eardrums hum, a hundred mile Hyundai shamer
Brawny tawny gold, hot bonnet chrome flashdance
Purrs her melting eclair aerodynamic performance
Pride's pilot elevated by moorish horizon hunts
Hungry headlights still prey with stealthy stunts
30th July 2022
Written for Contest: Joy
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
See me a visualization of the truth. A fatal portrait selfie. A dose of reality. 1zt card life dealt me waz the high joker. Nocturnal Mojo. An ounce of venom. Mixed wit buckshot. Inhale freedom. Magick red carpet ridez. Living righteously. A man, protector of angelz I attain 2b supreme. Humanz jyzt suk, addicted 2 self induced chaos. Mojojuize iz the fountain of youth. I'm smooth. I walk amongst the illuminationz shadowz. A skeleton key. American Mojo. Ur the Gordian Knot 2 my Mojo the Gr8. Big Red Ride Or Die Hoodlum. Itz my Earth. Mind ripper barbed wire electric fence all up in ur hed. Co creator of beautiful golden karma my aura glowz super nova. Sexually aerodynamic, take u2 higher ground n pass ur test. Domento in me Mojo, wen I am I, I am the bezt. Silver tongued vocabulary. Lyrical 4play. Ironic how I feel safeness within ur dangerousness. I am here, now run. I am here, now run. I am here, now run. I am here, now run. Lunacy in a free mind. Memoriez r all in order. An angelz feather & a photo of us brotherz. I will not fail. I'm beyond better. May i tempt u, ride wit me. Seductive in my madness. Letz journey in2 the mysterious afterlife. After we celebrate life 4 decadez of decadence 2 come. I'm all about family. A magickal creature, never sleep me. I'm a nightmare calming dream. Only God will judge me. Gear blacked out in a dark part of a dark city. Insidious motivez. Blood 4 bloodline. Naw we all got kingdomz 2 build. Swear tho upon my lilz. I will rain down upon thee hellfire n brimstone whosever ever harmz my Trinity. Til then I'ma keep grinding stimulating my faith. A spirit reincarnated phoenix named Soulfyre Free. On the lookout 4 that fabled Dragon smoke. I am here, now run. I am here, now run. I am here, now run. I am here, now run.
Fluid like falls of rolling water,
Fluid like a disease, a chemical reaction unleashed in any manner of time and space, discreetly repeating , unfolding and deleting, reemerging reaching the ceiling like smoke in thinner attire.
Fluid like fish eggs taking course with a steady stream.
Fluid like radio waves bouncing off beams around satellites and mortar a amphitheater without curves.
Fluid with the aerodynamic of no limits free-falling in the subtle touch of gravity.
Jets and planes have conquered the sky
Just like us, fly over the deep blue ocean
They have copied us, use avian highways
But, why are the singles unable to fly?
They have made mechanical giants
Which will carry many of them.
A pilot navigates the way
They will sit in comfort
Happily drinking champagne
Once a pilot asked me, what's your Avian secret?
Our eyes are large for a sharp eyesight
In air and water, we see well.
Tube shaped nose enhances smell
Hooked bill is for gripping the fish while flying
The feet at the back,propel us from behind when diving
Narrow wings regulate, turbulence while flying
The thickly dense plumage is for insulation
The long wingspans produce aerodynamic lift
We can read the sun and stars
Parents teach us navigation skills
Instincts, landmarks, all these help
If you want to fly, this is all, I could say
Now that we know each other well
I have an important thing to tell
As you know friend, over the time we have evolved well.
Natural problems, predators and storms are manageable
Human threats like power lines and hunters are the worst of all
Destroyed habitats, changed environments, make it unbearable
Turtle dove and many other sea birds now face extinction
Please be kind. Save our migrants without restriction