Best Flying Poems
You gave me wings
to experience the
freedom of flight
my love.
You let me soar
the skies and beyond
into other universes
where consciousness
has no boundaries,
feels no weight,
nor limitations
of the earthbound,
only coherence with other
soul travelers exploring
the many dimensions
in light form.
How could I keep
begging you to stay
when your earthly body
yearned for that same
freedom of flight from
a world without
which you will not
return in my lifetime.
We joined our hearts in vows of
“until death do we part”
and I know I must accept
your departure with all
the love you would
have offered me
had my departure
preceded yours.
We always said that death
is but a station
on our journey home
to the afterlife.
It is my turn now
to give you the same
freedom you gave me
when we met.
I often see you now in
my peripheral vision,
just a ghostly glimpse
that lets me know
you see me
and you are still looking
out for me as the protective
mate you were.
I continue to fly now
but mostly at night
as my body sleeps.
I miss your masculine
embrace and my
heart still often weeps.
June 4, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest~N/A~
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
~Nineth Place~
Flight Premiere Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
to lose yourself in poetry
in image vibrant reverently
responsibility absents thee
thoughts sprout wings
~ magically
August 31, 2020
Completely Your Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
A citrine leaf in lingered lilt
did savor breeze of sapphire whisk
as Autumn’s honey-secrets spilt.
A hopscotch star.. an ember brisk,
she sighed and fell— then took her chance!
a citrine leaf in lingered lilt
with wind-a-whirl in saffron dance
below the western cirrus gilt.
Before the winds began to wilt
and aspen whispers rose a wail,
a citrine leaf in lingered lilt
did fly where camp-fire-clouds grew pale—
where songs are spun from angel dreams,
their rapture wrapped her like a quilt,
no longer needing rhinestone streams,
a citrine leaf in lingered lilt.
between stars and fireflies...
a quiet conversation
Silent, she slips from her stronghold’s security,
safely tucked high on the cliff in her nest.
Cautious, she stays in the shadows afforded her,
sorrowful, hesitant, missing the rest.
Her parents and siblings had sought out the sunshine,
flying the open air, learning their craft.
Soaring and diving, they basked in the currents;
she, feeling poorly, by chance, had stayed back.
Sounds like a cannon had rung out above her;
shrieking and screaming, she watched the first fall.
Caught in the open with no chance for cover,
savagely, swiftly, death came for them all.
Hugging the hillside, she used the thick foliage,
bobbing and weaving, avoiding the limbs,
calling on instincts she knew not inside her,
fine-tuned adjustments through flexes and trims.
Cover was ending; the ocean awaited her.
Her heart was racing, her mind strangely clear.
Mother had taught her to seek out the currents;
a warm water pocket meant updrafts were near.
Tucking, she dove as she flew in the open,
a bullet herself, towards shiny blue glass.
Braking so subtly, just at the last moment,
she shot across wave tops, dizzily fast.
There! A small change in the water beneath her.
Pulling up hard, she flapped skyward and soared.
Where she was headed lay unknown before her,
on past the sunset to some distant shore.
The warm temperature drops outdoors,
And first drops of fresh rain sprinkle.
The thunder claps right above me,
As lightening is striking afar.
Dust is blowing in the wind,
Trees are bending fiercely,
A train horn blares,
As the core nears me.
Then sudden silence,
A calm reappears.
Electrical fires start,
For a moment one
Thinks it’s over,
Then it starts
Again quickly.
Passing by my
Home taking
My neighbors,
Tin flying by,
The tornado
Fades, look
At all the
Damage.
And I
Am
Uns
c
a
t
h
e
d.
My poem is about Tornadic weather and evokes
Water in, 'first drops of fresh rain sprinkle'
Wind in, 'Trees are bending fiercely'
Earth in 'Dust is blowing in the wind'
Metal in 'Tin flying by'
Fire in, 'Electrical fires start'
Feeling in 'The warm temperature drops outdoors'
Smell in 'First drops of fresh rain sprinkle'
Taste in 'Dust is blowing in the wind'
Sight in, Lightening is striking afar'
Hearing in 'A train horn blares'
_____________________________
Inspired by Deborah Guzzi's
Five Senses / Five Elements contest.
Shifting haze, so slowly trailing
Through wood and field, now veiling
Melancholy skies, holding back the tears
With wild geese flying to meet other years.
Flames of crimson torches come flinging
Leaves on knarled branch swinging;
Desolate winds rush leaping
Taking flowers to their final sleeping.
In the groaning of the atmosphere
Unfolding sorrows weep with the fading year;
Fields of cluttered stubble are tangled
With rampant weeds, dew drop spangled.
Flocks of birds leave like flying missiles
Over fields of corn and drying thistles;
Then my dream of autumn fades, paling
Through a grandeur all prevailing
When sunset fires light sky and sea
And sink in the breath of serenity.
Each day I live and wake to see
the scarlet sun that shines for me
and listen to a feathered song
inviting me to sing along
I know I’ll find just what I seek
though rain may come to kiss my cheek
for with each day, with every sigh
there comes another chance to fly
The bluest blues of azure seas
are calling me now to appease
to leave behind an angry man
and wing away, I know I can
With love and grace, I’ll find the way
as I then glide through twilight gray
and to the clouds, I say goodbye
here comes another chance to fly
You severed my wings
For your failure to fly
But I soar - 'cause I'm more
than your ex, or your why.
11/6/19
I came across a baby bird
And I wondered of its flight
A life had just begun
with a rough starting plight
Along came a gust of wind
as if blown by the sea
But it's a mountain top high
For this baby bird with me
It was then, our dreams were born
as we both began to fly
Carried by currents of faith
Touching clouds in the sky
The sun set upon our shoulders
drying raindrops on each wing
The horizon burst with colors
just in time, for us to sing
The melody traveled far
across the valley below
Reaching souls, a song is found
Always closer than you know
In solitude I dream tonight
And watch a moth in fevered flight.
It’s drawn toward my quaint porch light
And flies consumed with all its might.
Through open window I can see
Its desperation shared with me;
How freedom in this world is light—
And we as souls are drawn to fight.
Though freedom’s light may cause our death,
It’s worth the risk with every breath.
I understand the moth’s sad plight
When drawn to the glorious light.
Though it knows not of human trust,
It buzzes on because it must!
3-18-22
~Fourth Place~
Freedom Premiere Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Soaring
Free as a bird
No wings to restrain us
Blown gently on salmon pink clouds
Heaven!
01~11~15
Contest: An American Beauty – Andrea Dietrich
Visual 5: Balloons
Checked Using How many Syllables 2,4,6,8,2
~awarded 4th place~
Bebo was a bird
who could not fly
He kept flapping his wings
'cause he knew he must try
There were two other birds
that were laughing at him
As he was jumping and flapping
up high on a limb
It must be so hard
to be stuck in a tree
Said, those two silly birds
That were laughing at me
I do not like you
get out of my tree
Don't you have somewhere to go?
Don't you have somewhere to be?
Bebo then said
let me get back to my endeavor
Or, I'll be stuck in this tree
forever and ever
He knows he's a bird
he eats worms and sings
He just needs a good breeze
to get under his wings
Bebo worked hard all week
to get into the air
Then he started to cry
Yelling, this isn't fair
With tears down his cheeks
Bebo looked at the sky
He said, I know I'm a bird
so why can't I fly?
The wind then spoke out
and said, It's not how you try
You must climb to the top
You must get really high
Then open your wings
and face into me
I will help you find flight
just get up there, you'll see
Bebo went to the top
of his lonely old tree
He opened his wings
and, waited to see
The wind then picked up
and, carried him high
Bebo was laughing with joy
'cause now he could fly
From that day on
Bebo was happy with flight
He said goodbye to his tree
and, then he flew out of sight
I flew,
a modern man in a steel bird,
with all the arrogance of
ancient Icarus, but my wings
did not melt nor I swoon.
I flew high, very, very high
over Asian lands and homes,
and below me, very, very far
down where the bombs fell
like the rains of hell...
I saw the face of the moon.
Fly so fast, cry for wind
Carry me between your wings
Me, me, tiny, olive skinned
Blood of beggars, blood of kings
Lost forever, never found
Roar your cry across the land
Where the road once walked and wound
Stranded in mountains of sand
Clamp your claws around my waist
‘till my harness groans and falls
You will hold my torso raised
You, impenetrable wall
No giant strong enough to win
Or to grab us from the sky
No demon vile, no sinner's skin
No Cyclops to burn us with his eye
Fly my Harpy, take our dreams
Kill the bad, the hurt, the sad
Cherish fragile shining beams
Screech seductively and glad
Fly so fast, cry for wind
Carry me, my love, your wings
Me, me, tiny, olive skinned
You and me are blood of kings
***
March 23, 2017
Copyright © Darren White