Best Airways Poems


Premium Member Clerihew Soup

I tell you I like, that Wayland a bunch
He'd be the guy, to be there in a crunch
Not afraid of humor, he paves the way
With clerihew words, he loves to play

Let's talk of Eileen, the Queen of passion
Her verses of pleasure, will not be rationed
She causes men to rise, women to weep
Many a farmer, have stopped counting sheep

Then there is Shadow, who is a bright light
Her name suggests darkness, but that isn't right
With a pen and paper, she loves to play
Out of the Shadow, poems brighten our day

There is the woman Donna, she is filled with charm
For her animals, she'd give her left arm
Still here in the soup, she adds her own spice
She's a little bit hot and a whole lot of nice

When it comes to Eagles Montery's the last word
She's not in a flock she's a solitary bird
With her strong wings creating a breeze
Verses dance on the wind with the greatest of ease

I can't forget about Richard, now there's a man
He teases Eileen, just because he can
Yet within the humor, his clever exists
His poetic talents, impossible to miss.

My friend Vicky T, has brought me to tears
She possesses insight well beyond her years
A voice from the wilderness, please take heed
Wisdom resides in her poems that we read

When it comes to nature, our Nette is the girl
She makes mountains quiver and pretty leaves twirl
To angelic worlds she causes us to travel
Brooks are helpless she makes them all babble

Our Andrea she is well beyond great
Her words are profound they carry such weight
Regardless of form, many contests she wins
She's top of the heap, before she begins

Becca's a doll, with a sensitive pen
She writes of the now and also the then
Her words magical, a muse guides her pen
Capturing my mind again and again

This place amazing, a Mystical Rose
A unique handle my creative friend chose
Perfect for her that woman has style
A perfect seven at the top of the pile

My buddy Drake he has really mad skills
With words like honey the airways he fills
If you are lucky he'll let you co-host
To him I raise a glass to happily toast

Others must wait I'm running out of Rymes
I will write of them some other time
Until then I must wish you all goodbye
Have a sip of my soup, give it a try.




Inspired to try my first Clerihew by 
Wayland Bunch. Hopefully I have got it right.
Form: Clerihew

Premium Member Thought Police

Thought Police

Be careful what you say, 
be careful who you say it to. 
It might be heard... 
by someone that does not like it!

They will come to your door, 
and even the score, 
even if there is no game
involved at all. 
They will just call, 
on you, that's who, 
even if you live at the zoo. 

Truth beaten up on the sidelines. 
Propaganda given an upper hand. 
Media stroking the boss... 
of the paper, 
the airways,
and the fairways, 
no longer fair at all. 

Criminals on the streets, 
let go for their crimes, 
to make room for more important...
lawbreakers, 
earth-shakers, 
and memory makers. 
Fearing their words, 
may yet have power, 
for even an hour. 
 
Those that do not go along, 
with the climate change agenda, 
and will not take the shot, 
or get the clout 
or rub on each other 
to get the pox, 
like a fox... (in heat)
will be dealt with in the darkness
of powers at their central station.
The moon is full of men, 
that have given their lives over, 
to cover the reality, 
we live in. 

The rationing of water, 
then food, and gas, 
only the beginning... 
of the end. 

We will all go without, 
but don't shout.
Be quiet and accept what is ahead, 
the dread enough to fill 
the voting ballot box
full of hope... 
or treason?
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.

The Holy Ghost of Invisibility

Wrapped up in a blanket; by a fireplace in her mind
Remembering cozy evenings; 0f banquets once so fine.
      Where she held her lover tightly; trying to make it never end;
      But time has left her feeling; that it won’t come back again.
While the sparrows cling to bushes; and the doves hide in the eves;
The flocks go to the sanctuary; to pray there on their knees
       She remembers being a flyer; soaring through the skies;
       But she claims it was so long ago; behind a muffled sigh.
Waken from the day dream; confused she looks around.
A voice floats through the airways; void of any sound;
       But there’s no one there beside her; behind or in the front;
       So she climbs inside her special room; and there begins to hunt.
She’ll probably never find it; and if she did what could it mean;
It simply could be desperate wishes; that come from hopeless dreams
sad
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Breath of God

Breathe On Me God

"Breathe" on me with your sweet breath O Lord
Light inspiration's "gasp" with breathy embers
Sweep out my forlorn "whisper" of melancholy
"Utter" the familiar freshness I remember.

In soft whirlwind "murmur" stir my heart
Refresh my stale swirling breath
Resuscitate my starving breath
No asthmatic wheeze of strangled death.

Let me inhale your animation
My words exhale the "sigh" of life's prophecy
Your murmuring winds clear my blocked airways
To soar on wings of breathing majesty.

Open my passages of sighing palpitation
My soul alive in eternal respiration

5-3-21
Contest: Breathe
Sponsor: Constance La France
Required Words: breathe, gasp, murmur, sigh, whisper, utter
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member The Dawn

The Sun rises...

I know the supposed science 
of light,
bips and wavy lines of
pulsed propagation

like a heart

like emotions~ 

how human feelings start
and stop, the forward/backward of time -- 
the morning news
our repeated proclamations 

stagnation and regressive 
signatures, announced and printed 
shouted over electronic airways
man’s modern-day gazettes

dawn’s transparent lush
on my face,
I admire and study – 
the brushwork of gleams~ 
patterns of my traveled summits
and depressions indented

zebra primrose blossoming, in short
what love created such marvelous
striations? Say ye a God~ surely even
the moron
in glaring absence of other proof
would not guess less?

Him/Her? Our Blessed Hermaphrodite
of sentient-being creating, of morphing-realms
unending evolving

salacious advances of life mating, 
entangling, imparting fond mysteries --  
lips of roses unfurling, curling, inviting
nearer breaths for uninhibited exploration – 

such exposure awakens and sleeps
yet we sense beyond-maturity

delve the wizard behind the curtain

all us Dorothys

trying to find a true way home
imaginable, at least a steady firmament though we
slip precipitously – My thought, to dust, clean and change

the sheets, as a new warmth attempts to re-freshen 

recover nature’s veiled cycles our nightly often deeply
staining retreats
© Joe Dimino  Create an image from this poem.

Invincible Superhero

It's splash across the canvas of print
It's blare across the airways

Another Super Hero has fallen.

On the stage of life,they appear bullet proof
but out of the bright lights,in the shadows
every Super Hero has his Kryptonite

In the bright lights
a Super Hero's powers are his wealth and fame
in the shadows super powers can be weakened
by thieves,moths,rust

Don't Gear when a Super Hero has fallen
less it becomes your  Kryptonite
and you trip over your own cape.

The strength of a Super Hero's custom is not in silver or gold
but in the strength of a good name.

There is only one invincible Super Hero
He conquered death at the cross
To rescue Humanity from the hands of a villain

The name of this Super Hero is Jesus The Christ

Written By Stephen J. Vattimo
 July 6 2014


Departures

I never overcame your departure brothers
since then
my feet walk crippled
the kidney only filters half of the residues
my heart partially collapsed
and beats insufficiently
the gastric juice became acid
and corrodes the sweetness of dreams
the bronchial airways are carbonized
and emit a roaring echo
the neurons lost
innumerable synapses
when dying necrotic
but here I am with my soul
regenerating light
so that the guide with the candle
calms my rumble of jungle

Beekeeper

This a grand bright partnership
As the waving clover grows
And my little friends all busy
Gathering swiftly, Heaven knows.
And I slowly pace the hives
Measured help all dressed in mesh
Knowing Beulah Land's rich treasure
Gleams within those combs so fresh.
What a peerless manufacture 
What a mystic searching out
Workers buzz upon the airways
Mapped in magic by the Scout.
And I sense that God is smiling
As He sees me pace the field
With an eagerness to harvest
And to think on Mercy's yield.

https://issuu.com/dewane/docs/marrow_in_monastic_life
© Doug Blair  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

It Hurts

It is small movement, just a gasp, a little breath in
Not hard to do, you can do it, at the same time you can still grin
Just an intake of breath,  just a little gulp of air
 So small we never notice, until the airs not there.

A small muscular movement, independent of any thought
We do it when we sleep; no planning on it is sought
The only time we miss it, is when that breath is just not there
No matter how hard we try… there just isn’t any air

The heart beats to bursting, the skin tingles in fear
The world rushes from your sight, the pain begins to sear
Voices come and go but you cannot hear them speak
You know this is the end, do you care or are you too weak?

You can fight as much as you want; you can breathe as deep as you please
But when your lungs refuse to work, when there’s no air, there is no ease
You know your loved ones are calling, but you can do nought to answer them
Suddenly a god is important, as it happens to drowning men.

'Breathe deep, relax, calm down,' stupid words that one hears
There is no air, no relief, and maybe no more years
The tightness eases the airways open maybe it will be alright
Remember if it happens to you; keep away from the light that’s bright.

© 1/07/2013 GG
Form: Verse

You Are a Gift

You raise us up
You raise us higher than we know
You raise us to meet you
We want to sit next to you
Spend time, get to know you
You bring us up in justice
In Truth, Light, Rightousness
You see the uniqueness in us
You see possibilities always
You are vast, so vast into eternity
You perplex me
You salivate my hunger and thirst
You enlighten me with words of wisdom
You captivate me
Your aesthetic soars over me
Your adventureous spirit fires me up
You are my addiction, my obsession
You are adored
You are affectonate
You assist me
You affect the whole world
You affirm what you say
You administer our lives
You add value to our lives
You are the activity
You are the energy, the life
You actualize me
You are my adhessive
You affirm everything I believe
You help the afflicted
You are ageless
You are a guide 
You activate our sensors, you alert us
You  agree with what is correct
You aid our lives in countless ways
You fill our airways
You bring us alive
You align our lives
You bring together those who alienate
You are a mighty savior
You are all inclusive
You are amazing
Form:

Bond of Love

Bond of love

 --S.I.Khan


Green coloured haze, a planet called earth,
Full of good and bad people, into core a burning hearth..

Join up, dive in, sync down the charity within,
Have fun, have a place for admirers crawling in..

She flew down to the very era too to her amaze,
And met a poised guy indisguised an angel in blaze..

To her astonishment, he offered her a mythical quest,
With no delay she accepted to find more of his behest..

Then, He was in her's, she was in his good people list,
Still they never conversated like she could always wish..

For her, he was shining sand others were just stones n mud..
She often met him in green field’s akin normal bud,

She waited and waited for his presence to blink,
One fine day he called her with a sublime wink..

She was more than happy yet confused,
Thinking how enchantingly is she diffused..

Might she been thinking he was a guy of storm,
But nonetheless, trivially he was just a norm..

Pretending to be devious, but envious inside,
A severe bulk of pretentious melancholy aside..

Not all to her's that she was to be an after effect,
But unaware she was of how much he wanted her to reflect..

Ultimately it happened that was bound to,
Their friendship bloomed as the years flew..

They conversed with each other day and night,
On face, in letters, in the dim, forth the bright..

As the winters approached, summers passed by..
And they never slept without wishing lovely good bye..

But time did have its moment to infiltrate,
Neither it turned to love, nor could they hate..

An infringed bridge took them to severance,
All to bring along was a slew of remembrance...

Her chaste could only make a windless smile,
As to him dismay it was a lamentable vile...

Walking alone, they set off to their hoods,
She went down the ocean, he went into the woods..

Still now when the forest's winds awake,
Rise up the tides in the ocean, they make..

To touch him again her sprinklets scatter,
As the gloomy airways slide and shatter..

To all that is manifested to the souls above,
No one knows they still have a bond of love..

by
S.I.Khan
Form: Imagism

Miracle of the Hudson

On early Thursday morning, 
  Terror filled the New York sky.
And two engines were disabled,
  By a flock of birds passing by.

Departing from La Guardia,
  Bound for Charlotte, N.C.
US Airways flight 1549,
  Departed at 3:24 from NYC.

And moments after departure,
  A calm subtle voice was heard.
Stating to brace for impact,
  Before the impact occurred.

The plane essentially became,
  A 170,000 pound glider.
As the 58-year old captain,
  Became the flights safety provider.

And in a controlled descent,
  He steered the disabled craft.
Over the George Washington bridge,
  And safely sailing it like a raft.

155 passengers survived as his,
  Courage and heroism was outstanding.
On 1-15-09, the pilot of pilots, 
  Performed an amazing splash landing.




_________________________________
Inspired by the courage and heroism 
of Captain Chesley B. Sullenberger, III,
for the Miracle of the Hudson on 1-15-09
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The After Effects

Swelling waters rage across the land; 
two foot, three, four…water-tantrum’s take their toll; 
capturing houses and cars.
The collection grows with every storm.
Tempests wage their war on unsuspecting trees and crops;
limbs whirl about the airways. frantically.

Four legged’s seek the higher ground for, safety’s sake; 
hurricane is a non-discriminatory beats; 
attacking everyone and everything in its path.
Whirling, swirling wind-tops, cut through land, neighborhoods, cities and forests; 
flinging debris like a child throwing a temper-tantrum.  
A spoiled brat in a rage.

Land will renew with time, cities will be re-built and birds will populate woods, 
forests and parks once again; provided that, 
hurricane tantrum does not repeat itself, too soon.
Nature’s children can be fussy and destructive to, 
people who upset the natural balance of things.
Everything that exists has a purpose; 
from the cockroach to the human.  
When each does it’s part, a balance is achieved.

Kill the rats off and the pests that feed off of them;
infect dogs, cats, livestock and even homes.
Frack-crack the earth’s crust-to-the-core and 
tectonic plates slide too far; 
carcinogens flood water and wetlands;
killing off billions of lives.  
Man, mammal, bird and fish…all gone.

Obliterate the trees and you obliterate oxygen; 
obliterate oxygen and you…extinguish all life.
The human beast has, an uncanny ability to do as,
they please; never considering the consequences of,
their actions.

It’s so easy to blame nature’s other children for,
human carelessness and mistakes;
Preaching about responsibility while avoiding it.

Mazel Tov

A week in Spain, the Pyranees, a picturesque drive
from Barcelona, where I had not thought to become the owner
of sanity once more, there, where the command of a
mountain is to Look Up, leave the roiling band of unrest
over airways, TV screens, the front page unquiet
conversation we are accustomed to in our Nation,
no escape from that, except in rarified altitudes of no rape.
un-civil wars, terrorism, assaults with handguns, students killed
in classrooms.  "Loony Tunes" play in this country we love,
America, and abroad a Middle East in crisis.  It's a given,
said my husband, born Algerian: no peace, No Peace.
So, home again, I said, standing in a postal queue,
Mazel Tov to absence of all this among the hills
of rural Spain, where, Yes, there's rain, but much less
pain. The postal clerk was unkind, he said,
Girl?  Why Mazel Tov? When here you could
have merely turned your television off.
© Nola Perez  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member We Are Marshall

Southern Airways Flight 932
November 14, the night they flew
McDonnell Douglas DC-9
Like all flights, they should be fine
 
On the return home
They clipped some tree's
The final run
From Greenville,NC
 
37 players
In all, 75
From this tragedy
None survived
 
This Thundering Herd
Taken in their prime
Coaches and others
Before their time
 
But We Are Marshall
Would rise again
To take away
This terrible pain
 
From a point of closure
They reunite
To carry the lost
In their football right
 
Jack Lengyel
Appointed coach
With Red Dawson
Through Dedmans approach
 
Young Thundering Herd
First game lost 
29 - 6
Experience cost
 
First post win
Against Xavier
15 - 13
Calms despair
 
In 1974
Jack Lengyel leaves
But, We Are Marshall
We quietly grieve

" Dedicated to the Thundering Herd Football Team from Marshall University-West Virginia
                               and Mr Arthur D. Schwarz, a fervent football fan "
Form: Rhyme

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