Best Airs Poems


The 'Airs On Me 'Ead

The black ones I got from my mother,
The glamourpuss Welsh princess;
The red ones came from my dad,
The freckled Irish redbeard;
The blonde ones were mine as a baby,
Ringlets that bounced when I ran;
As a child I turned to a light brunette,
Thick and fine, flecked with my ancestry.
But the grey ones are all my own doing:
I made them, I earned them, I deserve them,
I worried them into my life,
I worked and partied, I pushed myself for them,
Those late nights are there to be seen,
And all the hair dye in the world
Can't cover up who I've been.

Premium Member Broadway Airs

The eternal buzz of city anglers
brash, angry, hornets ever selling egos.
Shrieking anxiety laced, analog, syllables, idiotically.
Hoping against hope, urchins, desperations end,
strumming ancient chords in vain efforts,
praying evermore for ordained kindness's eye.
Telltale ubiquitous blighter's energetically begging on.
How on heaven's earth can anyone 
begrudge absolution, hand out shackles instead.
The august city in full ultraviolet,  
never ever satiated, each mouth open.
Raw as meat, uncooked, questionable, objectionable,
waiting on the angler's hook obediently.

Premium Member After Reading Whitman, Gathering Airs and Tasting the Garnishes

I am the wind
the textured curl of clouds
those specks of glitter
silver and gold are my
illustrative gleams

the foiling wings
that flutter and flap
feathers ripe with color

complementing all rosy hills
a rolling kiss a splash of
blush a dash of spicy dish
the pepper and the salt
of a morning's stirring serving

see me in the meadows
there where wildflowers overflowing
bees and butterflies how they gaily
bob take lick like little children
at the serving tops of apples candied
making funny faces where those more
tart chasing rainbow tails the
fond remnants of showers

I made this day for you
now do me honor
save some acres from your cities
and roads
one or two at the least
as I keep sacred
your plot through the heavens
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.


Freeshness Through the Airs

"My Hands Are Yours, You Lifted Me Up" 

"That face That You make, Is A On core" 

"Those Puddle That The Fish In, Is Like Music To My Ears", 

"That Smell In The Bathroom, Smell Like A Dead Moldy Bread" 

"That Air Is Cold, But That Breeze Needs Warmth" 

"All These Thing, The World Above" 

"That Bad Winters, And Bad Luck" 

"Will Soon Will Come Through Dust" 

"With Good Winds, And More Sun" 

"To Flower Up Above", 

"Smelling Spring Smells So Good, Makes me Whanna Camp Outdoors"

Airs and Graces (Haiku For Bryan's Noun Haiku Contest) Haiku No 29

A stretch in evening
Weeping Willow under snow
All airs and graces

Subtle Airs

whispering of winds
sibilant, susurrations
inspiring insights

braggart's boring boasts
haughty, howlingly hollow
a wisp and a whiff

tintinnabulum
continuously caressed
potent priapic

wet and wheezy whine
old nick now is not so nice
whispering wraiths wait


Premium Member Airs and Graces

Airs and Graces
On their faces
A gaze down the nose
Other silly shows

Illusions of grandeur
A grand amour
Of self deception
False Perception

Take a better look
We are the open book
Their airs and graces
Reflected on our faces.

Diana Dalton
2 Feb 2017

Premium Member No Airs and Graces

No pretence
No airs and graces
Just be real
No “two faces”

Be authentic 
Just be You
Let your true spirit shine through

Your fairness, honesty
Integrity will show
Kindness to all
Compassion, goodness will flow

Don’t fear vulnerability 
Or to admit you were wrong
It does not create weakness
It enlightens, renders you strong

Let your humour be present
Smile and laugh each day
Don’t take life to seriously
Don’t waste it away  

Feel inner peace ….without turmoil
Like and love You
Appreciate and value all life offers
But mostly “to yourself be true”
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Darling Diva Cow Puts On Airs

Darling diva cow puts on airs, said Ruth Could.
Weird for her usual smell is nicotine putrid.
No one can stand the stench of her pores or her coat.
Barnyards smelled better with cows, pigs and one goat.

Is that her? I asked pointing to a cow with legs.
She was kicking one up, practically showing us eggs.
Yes, and she thinks she’s all that, but her smell is horrid.
I could not get any closer, nicotine came out of her forehead.

Premium Member A Gentleman's Airs

To qualify as an educated gent
    to certain boarding-schools one must be sent
  To learn how to position one's fork and knife
    and raise one's pinkie, unlike lowlifes  

  A gent speaks with an air of charm and grace
    his nose gradually rising on his face
  Savaging the ways of 'today's barbaric youth' 
    while knocking down shots of gin and vermouth    

  Such gents betimes depart fine society
    exposing themselves ~ targets of impropriety

Fairy Airs

When you doggies go airy with too much of the dairy                                                                                                                        Help stop global warming and make the farm fresher,                                                                                             with our industrial strength solvent A cow pies worst enemy                                                                                 Unnaturally dissolving the natural smells                                                                                                                                               You will be the VIP of carbon credit You will never regret it                                                                                                                                                          The DIY of earth day a hero of greener pockets                                                                                                        GMO as you Go stop the smell before it grows                                                                                                                          Like a masked unicorn squatting to cease the day                                                                                                                     The potpourri of overused hay to victors the spoils                                                                                                          While fracking for oil never thinking of the toils                                                                                                                 but never fear the rears or oily balms                                                                                                                             Make your payments to farmerslonely.com
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Cool Evening Airs

The cool evening airs
Sweeps across her moonlit hair
Gently laying, bare her extraordinary beauty.
By a pleasant breeze of fragrant air
That blows gently across her wavey hair.
Hypnotically twisting and flittering
Curling and swirling her flowing hair
with each gentle breeze
That I could not stop but to stare
Oh Blair, My Blair
how much more can I bare,
I sit here in profound despair.
Naturally wondering
if you genuinely care.

Premium Member Putting On Airs

Another word for exaggeration is hyperbole
One word is fine, so why did we need two?
I don’t know, seems utterly redundant to me
Not being an etymologist, I haven’t a clue.

One for common folks, the other for the elite?
Seems someone couldn’t agree, and that’s fine,
I’ll settle for exaggeration, a word that’s neat
Hyperbole ... if I’m trying to show my behind. 

Written August 27, 2022

Airs and Graces

Pulling chairs and holding doors
are gestures of respect
I cling to reverentially,
emotion, that beggars intellect.
 
In times long gone I'd doff my hat
and dress in spats and bow-tie
to woo a damsel with dispatch,
a wink, a nod, to catch her eye.
 
Nowadays, old-fashioned graces
often meet with glares askance,
with worried and suspicious faces
I don't get a second glance!

Premium Member Putting On Airs

The woman wore her faux fox hat with an air of elegance and pride
I am used to real furs, my daddy is a dealer, and he shows me each hide
She acts with a touch of snobbery, which I think is totally amusing
If she could see animals turned into pelts, her vanity would be confusing.

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