Best Flying Carpet Poems
Love Stanzas
I write of celestial moons and flying carpet rides,
Of seasonal hues and rising tides.
I write when golden sunlight fills the skies,
And emerald hills enchant my waking eyes.
When the aroma of thulian roses scents the air
And wind blows the willows like Pele’s hair.
I write of all things that remind me of you,
How I’m sheltered by your shadow in all I do.
When I hear the sweet call of a turtle dove,
I smile at your deep amorous voice I love.
You are always the one after forty years
Though we've endured a few hardships and tears,
It strengthened our bond as we grew old
Our wedding vows seemed to be written in gold.
You put my feelings first and I reciprocate
I cherished the fact that you were my soulmate.
When moonlight gleams on our island sea
Our love songs still echo eternally.
The love we shared remains pristine and pure
When our souls combined to forever endure.
8-29-22
I write because Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
____________________________________
7-17-22 Rev.
~First Place~
Rhyme Rumi Quote Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
"From deep within my heart
I always catch the scent
of my Beloved. How can I
help but follow that fragrance?" By Rumi
_________________________________________
8-31-18
Still the One Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner ~7th Place~
* Thulian is a rose pink shade
I write of celestial moons and flying carpet rides,
Of seasonal hues and rising tides.
I write when golden light fills the skies,
And emerald hills enchant my eyes.
When the aroma of thulian roses scents the air
And wind blows the willows like Pele’s hair.
I write of all things that remind me of you,
How I’m sheltered by your shadow in all I do.
When I hear the call of a turtle dove,
I smile at the mellifluous voice of the man I love.
As a glowing garnet sun sets on a calm sparkling sea
Your love songs will echo eternally.
Our love will remain pristine and pure
As our souls combine and forever endure.
© January 20, 2013
~Third Place~
For 'My Valetine' Contest
Sponsor: Suzette Crous
Decodeing secret message:
This message is to my mate when we met on one of my flights, hence the
flying carpet rides. The tides are because we live on an island in the Pacific.
Once upon a time there lived a very curious
boy called Simon. He was the grandson
of Sir Walcott, a great explorer.
Sir Walcott had traveled to Americas, Africa, Asia and
Antarctica. Treasures he discovered like gold,
rubies, emeralds and diamonds made him
very rich. The Queen honored his discovery
of new worlds and treasures, and knighted him.
One day, when he reached home from school,
Simon saw a big, white envelope on his bed. Quickly
he opened it, only to see an old map. Behind it
was written “This map will guide you to the greatest
treasures the world has ever known”.
Secretly Simon left his home in the deep night,
and headed to places the map showed. He found
gold chests, Sword of Excalibur, Lost City of Atlantis,
magic beans….. The more he discovered new things,
the more he became tired of looking for them. He
wondered what great treasure the map was talking
about.
Bored and frustrated, he sat under a tree and started
to cry. His tears fell on the map, only for the map
to glitter! Then a voice came from the map:
“Don’t cry little one….you are nearer to the treasure
than you can ever imagine!”
Simon wiped his tears, and looked at the map,
as though it was a ghost. The map was actually
talking!
The map told him that he would become much
richer than his grandfather, if he discovered
the greatest treasure of them all: happiness,
which could only be found in the heart.
The map told him he had found happiness
the journey, enjoying to pass through jungles,
deserts, and ice planes. Enjoying to see animals
he only saw on TV and magazines. Enjoying to see
new kinds of people with different cultures….
Happiness, the map told him, wasn't in the treasures
like gold, but in the hearts. Simon thought for a minute,
and realized he actually enjoyed the adventures more
than finding the treasures. He was very excited he had
discovered the greatest treasure;
the bliss and thrill of living!
The map then turned into a flying carpet,
and took him home.
THE END
Moral of the Story:
Happiness is not found in wealth or riches. It’s found in life in the form of family, new friends, new places, new languages, all in all encompassing the thrill of living each day.
When you wonder why I soar beyond the sky,
Feel free to inquire and a secret will be told.
It’s a mystery to me but I’ll give it a try,
And unfold for you a story that’s ages old.
Two score years ago did a magic carpet emerge,
And Metro was the name its weaver chose.
So now I go anyplace that my heart has the urge,
Even up high as the sun to see how the world arose.
I can circle the moon eating icy clouds with a spoon;
Stars I can hold like glowing diamonds in my fingers.
But still the sky begins to darken way too soon,
When the day is done and the night looms and lingers.
Nevertheless there’s fun in the light of the moon,
As my flying carpet goes circling above Katmandu.
I’m loving every twinkling of this charming boon,
As I dream of new wonders and worlds to woo.
I go in search of an elusive Muse.
Her flight has left my vessels cracked and dry.
Shafts of moonlight bathing o’er savannah,
radiates no mist of magic in my mind,
where once we danced in step with wildest drums
and from my pen out flowed the words with ease.
An artist on a trapeze I swing with ease,
I ride a flying carpet in the arms of my Muse,
conquering worlds to the battle echo of the drums.
Never did I dip my pen in ink all dry,
I lived a fancy dream world in my mind,
exotic fantasies in wild savannah.
The moon a giant pearl in my savannah,
with wind a soothing breeze, I slept with ease.
The warmth of night shadows reassured my mind,
vanquished my phantoms as I journeyed with my Muse
ever gracious, her gift jars never dry.
Words poured out unceasing from her drums.
But now I feel the silence of the drums,
menacing clouds float over savannah,
the grassy plains once green, now are dry.
A flock of birds have plucked my words with ease,
like leaves they gather to lay at the feet of the Muse.
I am a scarecrow left bare and empty of mind.
My pen drags, no words come out my mind,
the ghosts of dead poets beat the drums,
marching, losing rhythm, without my Muse.
I beg the wind to find her in savannah,
bring her back to me, my pain to ease,
to cease poetic juices from bleeding dry.
My riverbeds continue to run dry,
without my Muse, I know I’ve lost my mind,
I can’t afford to leave the Art with ease.
In mysterious chambers deaf to the drums
I retire to salve my wounds in deep savannah,
and dream of waking up at the touch of my Muse.
I wait for my Muse, though she has left me dry,
In savannah I shall stay until my mind
hears the drums, again to write with ease.
They do not give a flying carpet
about the doctrines and laws they have heard
and unlearned from sages and prophets;
the future, they believe, is in a test-tube,
carrying Man's seeds for survival.
The society has become so technologically
advanced, that mothers want their babies
to grow up with a look they prefer;
they also want disease-free babies.
Scientists work around the clock like ants
in white coats,
as they come up with the society's needs,
after months of sleep deprivation
and nature upgrading.
Man believes he has created a future of his choice,
cloning humans who don't kill, don't steal,
don't scam, don't get sick......
Man has created a new human race of the Golden Age,
whose future generations will forget they were clones of purity
and perfection, returning back to state of Old Humanity.....
There's simply
No magic in life!
Yeah, there's no
magic password "Open Sesame"
Nor an Aladdin's magic lamp,
There's no Midas touch
Nor any Philosopher's Stone,
There's no crystal ball
No magic wand
No flying carpet
Nor a magic mirror;
There's no magic mantra
Nor an Aesculapius' Staff,
No Atlantis,
No Holy Grail,
No Elixir or Ambrosia,
And, no Heaven or Hell;
There will neither be
A Kingdom of Heaven on earth,
Nor an afterlife Paradise!
Beseech not
the hand of Lady Luck
Nor pin your hopes
on that pot of gold,
Do not embark on a voyage
seeking the Treasure Island,
Nor venture out to find
the fabulous Eldorado.
In the sweat of his face
Man will eat his bread
until into the ground
forever he is laid,
For he is born of dust
And unto dust he'll return!
now the sun made love to the moon
in a transgender afternoon
will be like you, will be like me
blame fimininty, blame under Y trinity
for the crescent got pregnant by a star
how Islamic them flags hailing Ishtar
sue blindness with no guts won't go any far
a lonely baby monkey riding an intellectual donkey
contstantine sat with christianity to dine
I'll give you the bibile don't take my kingdom we'll play it subtle
gods anagram is dog, eventually truth isn't to dodge
shylock laughed from the eye shaped window gotta love the attic, gotta love the lodge
there a twelve month old lonely boy, hovering holding a radioactive toy
oh red neck cowboy
in the east they're dancing eureka
gotta love rock, gotta love amerika
a middle eastern dream on a flying carpet
it's raining oil, it made them souls way murky than slimy soil
red china sat with north Korea gotta love the boogie cafeteria
iran humped israhell up her stars and stripes skirt in syria
but who knows that fake khomeni sealed the fate to bloody rainy
now the boy is a four dimensional old man
poor out of time you ran
the nomad looked at the stars, covered the jet turbine with his purple purple turban
ivy league ethopian NBA player, forgot his jewish core under the suburbs layer
Hitler never lost, his whores name written on paper without a clip
from the g string to the g thing, Hong Kong Singh ting
tsunami origami, that haarp is a reddish yammy
in the fourth earth there's an entity with a heartburn, send cern
heads up, it's the final u turn
Do you believe in miracles?
Do you believe in love?
Do you believe in magic?
And angels up above
Do you believe in happiness?
Or do you think its phrase
Would you believe it has?
Never come to me in days
Do you believe fairy tales?
In snow white and Cinderella
Do you believe in evolutions?
And that we came from a gorilla
Do you believe in mermaids?
That all the legends are true
For what ever you believe in
I will always believe in you
Do you believe in unicorns?
Pixy dust and peter pan
Do you believe a spider bite?
Can turn you into spider man
What about Alice in wonder land
And hickory duck with the clocks
The ginger bread man
And three bears and Goldie locks
Do you believe in Rapunzel?
That she really had long hair
And jack and the beanstalk
Big bad wolf and baby bear
Do you believe in superman?
And little red riding hood too
No matter what you believe in
I will always believe in you
Snow white and the seven dwarfs
Puss in boots and tinker bell
Do you believe in Pinocchio?
The woodcutter, Hansel and Gretel
Ali Baba and the fourty thieves
The pied piper of Hamelin
The little mermaid
And the flying carpet with jasmine
Sleeping beauty and the beast
The secret name of rumpelstiltskin
The frog price tree little pigs,
Thumbelina and the ugly ducklings
No matter what you believe in
No matter what you do
I give you my love and
I will always believe in you
Like diamonds on butterfly wings, dew dribbles,
bestowing sparkle to freshly woven spider entanglements
as fireflies glilsten beneath blackened skies
Stardust illusions are sprinkled into our lives
as magical, imaginary unicorns awe and inspire us
to consider unexplainable happenings
Phenomenal musical sounds from breezes that
rustle branches and leaves in enamor us into feelings
of anticipation, desiring more of nature's aura
Birds chirp, bees buzz, as fields of wild flowers open
Their tiny faces smile upward to a new dawn, unveiling
charismatic neon hues
Royal purples, blue green waves and frothy spindrift
gently brush against beaches of pure white sand
as a passionate peacefulness is heard
beneath celestial delilghts that glow in contrast
to a circular orange-yellow melon moon
Like a flying carpet, these tiny miracles bring images
to our thoughts and images, leaving imprints of colors
and sounds in our hearts and minds
Creating an unforgettable world of
charm and wonderment.
If love is the fragrance of Life,
Knowledge is the map within ourselves guiding
the flying carpet of the soul
towards its lovely fountain.
Yet, most humans are victims
and/or agents of hatred
and, day in day out,
they struggle to sign loan contracts
with the bankers of ignorance and death.
But further,
Since "knowing is not enough,
we must apply.
Willing is not enough,
we must do",
how could we,
by insisting on ignorance and hatred,
manage to climb the many
a mountain-like burden of life and death
instead of carrying them
all upon us?
How could we,
without reading and learning,
arrive at understanding
and smelling that fragrance of life
to eventually come upon that map
leading to finding that fountain?
Chokri Omri
(Tunisia, March 2021)
Do you think I will ever get
Of things that I’ve been yearning
A whole year stock of chocolates I get
That will certainly make me beaming
What about something entertaining
A pirahna as a pet
Or a dragon so intimidating
Or something that noone forgets
I yearn for a flying carpet,
That brings me to the land of rainbow
Or a broomstick that moves like a jet
Taking me to places I want to go
What about a fountain of youth
In a secret place noone knows
Imagine I retain my youth
Everyone definitely wants to know
I yearn of a distance star, a planet of my own
I yearn for a house on a mountain, with a garden of my own
With my loved ones I’ll be living
Listening to nightigales singing
I’ll find the secret of true loves
For everyone that needs them
To them I shall then serve
With a portion of each of them
But hey! Do you think I will ever get
All the things I’ve been mentioning
Or should I just forget
All these things that I’ve been dreaming
is that truly you
knocking on my door
arriving one stroke past midnight
one dreamer seeking another
chasing the clouds in a cloudless sky
riding a flying carpet
with no horizon in sight
is that truly me
playing out the game
of lover’s chance
waiting for the curtain call
my audience has arrived
the wizard of dreams
in the seat of wishful thinking
is that truly us
are we just strangers
standing at destiny’s edge
witnessing two lives come and go
each and all simply waiting
for the crystal ball of chance
to arrive unbroken
is this all there is
were we both expecting
there would be more
the swan and the song perhaps
to fulfill all expectations
challenging the dreamer in our souls
to a dual of lover’s risk
…..truly
Dreams Fade
Curtains lift to changing scenes–
mountains conquered, fairytales.
Leisurely visits to heavenly beaches,
dissolves of scenic Bali,
montage of bohemian safaris,
unicorns, ocean of repertoire,
kaleidoscopic and bewitching,
invisible to all else–
form a halo.
Camouflage from the ambient
to stave off annoying knocks.
Flying carpet glides above the
storms and provides
escape from the churns.
A safe haven from shrapnels,
coming from many directions,
known but mostly unknown
and a flood of wonderment––why?
Sources vary and roots hide from the light.
As journey reaches foggy trails,
retrospection begins to nibble at the halo
How do you make me feel?
How do you make me feel?
You make me feel like the East when it's sunrise
And at sunset, you make me feel like fireflies
Inside of me you make me feel butterflies
You make me feel proud, as proud as Othello
With you I'm bold you make me feel like a hero
You make me feel that without you I'll be zero
You make me feel I'm Achilles and you my heel
How do you make me feel?
You make me feel like Alladin
Your arms is my flying carpet
You make me like you're my Genie
Your eyes is my magic lamp
How do you make me feel?
Now you're making me feel like a pilot
Cruising a silvery spaceship
Envoyage the land of fantasy
O! You make me feel I'm going where I've never been