Best Light Air Poems


Premium Member Fall Shades, On the Ochred Phloem

Senses are aware of a cavernousness, 
And of a stillness almost quietley abrupt..!

softness of light & air surround all, 
deft as breath as from a doves wing reposing

billows of liquid descending are as grains,
the seeds of an "almost raining"

A lowering of horizion encompasses,
Valley, ridge, and outcropping crag's

the listening atmosphere waits...
breathless as soil is enriching

Close by mammals disturb the folds of fallen bracken,
with bursts of muffled sound, as hand in hand lovers stroll around


Poem by Joe Maverick copyright 27 9 2011
This poem is for Michael J. Falotico's falling in love in the fall contest:)

Redbud

Crimson seeds of spring
leaf light air, butterfly rain
soft as summer’s swirl.
© Glen Enloe  Create an image from this poem.

Wicked Fingers

As your wicked fingers crawl onto the tightened metal,
I feel myself loosing control, reminiscing my presence
as if it is the holy lord's forbidden prayer,
That is toxic, yet it shows me the unknown fantasies...
As those pointed fleshes thrush onto the keys,
I dissolve in the waves of tunes
I give up on morals, logic,
I dance to the hymns of the unholy man...
As your wicked fingers dance around the accordion,
I see the ghoul of dust surrounding my skin
Naked then, to the music, I feel myself
The unpracticed pain relieves my heart...
The unsought melodies you play pierces my heart,
Beyond light, air or fluids, I see an aurora
In the aurora, I float and swim
I become whatever you make of me
Playing with my mind are those holy doomed fingers,
which I'll never resist, I would play on with the actions it does...

Reconsidering my existence to your tunes
I feel your beats becoming more and more cryptic, by the time
I want to see the enigma hidden behind those notes
As if you persuade me to do so with those masters you use to create magic...

Let me listen more, it soothes my ears
Let me feel more, it brightens my gloom
The glory must'n be lost, as it abides in the skies of the dukedom of its own
Millions live there, in a universe of passion and aggression
Let me seep in, let me see through
Let me watch it grow inside me
Let me become it, let me sow more
Let me be where I am right now
Let me fathom those wicked fingers...

-Adhyatmika Tripathi


A Day and a Night In June

Rolling pastures of green meadows rise to greet the horizon meeting a deep blue sky, 
Beautiful old Perennial Clovers fill the glades and valleys with sweetness and beauty, 
Yellow Goat’s Beard, Dog Daisies with Chervil, shelter under hedgerows and Oak trees, 
A Yellow Rattle and the Lotus meet the Quake-grass and have done since I was a boy. 

As I get older and become friends of Fescues, the Rough Cocks foot is still my dream, 
And warm days of June are brilliant and beautiful the nights very calm soft and warm,
Where moonbeams and the evening stars twinkle in soft silver the background a blue hue,
Trees silhouetted against the starry night sky like a painting on canvas immortalized.
 
What could match the clear beauty of a June sky as bird’s soar across turquoise day, 
Wild oats and Darnell's by waysides, Red Pensile panicles in the light winds that blow, 
Each a friend with the Fox tail and Timothy they all sway in the same breeze dancing,
Wrapped in light air-grass and the Purple Burnett all are loved in a summer’s meadow.
 
The corn grows tall in the golden sea it has waves when the wind strokes the stems,
Walk in a dreamland of wonder over fields and along the footpaths since time began,
The rye as tall as your head and the wheat beginnings to shoot away from the husks,
Then the wild flowers among these crops are a beauty on a wonderful sun shiny day.

One Man Went To Mow, Went To Mow a Meadow

Walking across dry green fields grass knee high so rich so very dark,
I lifted my scythe high and it swept over the meadow with sharp ease,
Cutting the perennial clover as it filled the air with a sweet scent,
A razor sharp scythe dropping the yellow goats beard and dog daisies.

The dreaded scythe chopped the chervil under hedges, trees and fences,
Next the yellow rattle, the lotus and beautiful quake-grass and poas,
The day moved on quickly so down went the fescues and rough cocksfoot,
In the rank grounds, the wild oats and darnels by the small waysides.

Nothing would be left as the red pensile panicles and covered foxtails,
The timothy fell with their spikes on the edge of shaded wood forests,
And the light air-grass and the purple burnet all through the meadows,
I took my shirt off the twig of a tree and me and the scythe went home.

Naked Flamenco

A Polite Warning. The Following poem is somewhat steamy. Not explicit, but explicit in
inference. If this sort of thing offends you, then please be considerate and don’t read
it. Thank you. 

Naked Flamenco

( A sultry summer night spent together
With ardour between us growing
She whispered, “Let me dance for you”
I agreed, little knowing………………. )

Binding spells of mysterious wanting
Soft dark her eyes looked
Into the shades of my mind
An enchantress of fantasy
She etched her velvet pattern
On veiled secrets
Parted

Dangerous lashes flutter desirous
In emerald peacock pupils
Midnight burnished hair let fall
In captivating tangles 
To full ephemeral corners 
Of soft bitten lip
Coy damp line drawn on her cheek

Captivated
Her expression acknowledges
With known provoking smiles
Eye lights shine saying “already mine”
With twisting flamenco poised
Sensual arm insinuates to finger tip
And eventide's rose is pale skinned
And naked

Curved line from ankle
Writes portents to the nape of her neck
Through black tousled sexual spinal blades
Shoulder dipping
Quivers her femininity to rising breasts
While arched longing 
Mouths the indescribable tactile seconds
Of her promontory dancing

Patient in toe tip exquisite she places
Penchant elegance 
Of her naked ballet
The ribbon swirl of vanished gossamer dress
Depicted wing-ed arms
She rises a surrealistic
Flight of angels created

In soft light air brushed forms
Of muscle, rib cage, bones and tendons
Body writhed centres eclipse
On pubic between
The epitome of gestalts navel breathing

I shudder Goosebumps of enthralling
Built by such grace of a heavenly 
Consecrated female
Led beyond mere heated needing
To a place resplendent
With sheer un-tameable and un-nameable beauty

Guitar stringing twangs the milliseconds
Of her overture 
Spanish castanets tap click fervent
Pronouncing the rhythm of my heart
Naked pale formed Goddess
Gently rips from me
Every appreciations confession of
Perfections contours

Fine satin sheen hairs risen
Beading sweats slight trickle
Aroused by my infatuation 
Nipples stiffen
And I am drawn from and by
Heavy breath to music’s ending  
To land in her presence
Panting

She has seen through me
Every century of a woman’s glory
And with a slow beckoning finger
Her eager eyes
Tell me
It is so


Love May Be

I woke up and felt
your soft breath on my skin.
Light air, not ready 
for today to begin.

What was a blast 
last night felt like a dream.
I want to spend 
with you all day within

Romance and sweet words
do not count to me.
Moments of passion
is what keeps you free.

You make me feel bliss
from the skies to the seas.
Your arms are the home
I would not ever leave.

Cleveland

the city is closing for the night
stores draw their blinds one by one 
every street is dark save for the dim 
Downtown streetlights bending at the neck

like weighted stems of steel. Rockefellers 
and Carnegie have built the city in layers:   
clinics, factories, the rounded arch hotels  
what is not there than fortune?  Further Downtown 

has changed with neon lights flashing from 
4th Street Bar and Grill on The Corner Alley where
they serve stylish late dinner at night so before you  leave 
Downtown have a day at West Side Market, howl at the

Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, visit houses turned galleries 
and other places that make Cleveland a great City
of course, the great Lake and Tri-C welcomes 
you to adventure and a brighter future beyond pine trees

yet, drifting along silent paths alone is a soul walking
to a desolate corner of the city where alone with the family
their souls swirl like clouds of birds vanishing into the sky
and soon will fade like a smoke into thin air

pacing down the road rolling silently through the frost
in the dark after the nightshift is this soul with his head in his palms
the neon lights of Downtown ended where his air smells of salt
and his lover’s body was once found in the cold snow
it’s his third job of the day but you can’t find eggs on his dinner table

in Cleveland there are many young beech-trees on the edge
trembling to stand still beneath their pale skies and they shudder
like leaves in the light air afraid of the star beyond their reach
and my heart fills slowly with tears that will never dry

One Man Went To Mow Went To Mow a Meadow

Walking across dry green fields grass knee high so rich so very dark,
I lifted my scythe high and it swept over the meadow with sharp ease,
Cutting the perennial clover as it filled the air with a sweet scent,
A razor sharp scythe dropping the yellow goats beard and dog daisies.

The dreaded scythe chopped the chervil under hedges, trees and fences,
Next the yellow rattle, the lotus and beautiful quake-grass and poas,
The day moved on quickly so down went the fescues and rough cocksfoot,
In the rank grounds, the wild oats and darnels by the small waysides.

Nothing would be left as the red pensile panicles and covered foxtails,
The timothy fell with their spikes on the edge of shaded wood forests,
And the light air-grass and the purple burnet all through the meadows,
I took my shirt off the twig of a tree and me and the scythe went home.

The Dance of the Flower Children

We reclined on a carpet of mountain greenery.
The smell of cut hay drifted upwards from a distant river valley.
The twilight of June stretched its intoxicating hues across time.
I scoured the alpine grasses for radiant wildflowers,
braiding them into my daughters impatient locks of tender hair. 

A band set up on an ancient dance floor,
while cooks turned meat on blackened, open air barbeques.
The crowd imbibed homemade beer from plastic cups,
until the vibrations of the musician’s guitars pierced the light air.
Rock, country, pop, jazz, all melted into the same sky.

The trendy city people tried to look cool,
while they shared space with cowboy hats and belt buckles. 
And the cowboys touched elbows with the mountain flower children.
These simple souls were barefoot, wore homemade clothes,
And adorned themselves with stolen flowers,
 tucked behind unwashed ears.

The altitude inspired my feet to replicate the rhythms that eve.
I tossed my daughter into the sweet firmament.
I twirled my son in majestic circles.
I two stepped with my toddler.
And I swept my wife off her feet once again.

I wish you had been there that night.,
laughing in the gentle grass,
dancing without care,
transforming your thoughts from shrill discord,
to the mountain’s peaceful harmonies.

Cost of Living

COST OF LIVING!
  -Dharga Nagar Safa

Sun light,air and water,

The triplets of God  blessed free,

For all lives on this Earth,

Why a "cost of living" only for the human?

October

Morning quietly stands 
On the silver sill,
Black heels puncturing the view,
A faceless, coiffed character
Turning its dim limbs
Into deliberatly chosen landscapes,
Eyes unraveled into the puddle
Of dripping crimson down the edges.
Her in bloom has never been riper
Under the weight of the light air
Smelling of fruity sweat
And sweet commotion behind the skin.
Close the window open
And let me crawl inside her.
© Witty Fay  Create an image from this poem.

Halloween

Halloween 
Let the night of horrors fill the light air,
A night filled with terror and twisted scares!
The evil will be blessed on this night,
given domain to walk the earth till light.
You can cower and stay inside your home
yet evil shall find its way as it roams
as it comes closer to finding you now
Shadows of the night shall take you somehow
Doors creek open, lights turn off, they are here.
Your skin crawls as your nightmares raise your fears!
RUN FOR YOUR LIFE! Try hard not to be seen
Or Evil shall take you this Halloween 
CMS

A Great Question

We are helped by light, air, earth, sky......created for us, no doubt, but have we given anything to them except exploitation?

My Eva

My Eva

Under a blue sky
Cloudless, fresh, warmed with gentle breezes,
Light air brushes her hair,
Wisps waving softly by her face,
Eyes alight with a smile
This is my Eva
Alive, full of life, bringing warmth
To my heart



Oct 2021

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