Long Aerosol Poems
Long Aerosol Poems. Below are the most popular long Aerosol by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aerosol poems by poem length and keyword.
A lost monopoly game
Williams fright, bridge, faith
and urban blight, Williamsburg.
Soot gray and brick red
the buildings stand
slumped, shrouded
death in the abundance
of vacant buildings.
Waste strewn sea
of asphalt, concrete, and urban dreams.
Cracks housing cigarette butts
form paper chains at the bases
of forlorn locust trees.
Sickly trees, popping from between
wrought iron barricades spiked manmade thorns
an Appleseedian affectation of defiance
toward a city of cave dwellers.
Doors, blind, windowless..no eye out or in..
unwelcoming entries..present
surfaces flat, color-chip palettes
for the graffiti “artist” latest spray painted
monstrosity
“ahhhhhhhhhh urban art!”
Two story warehouse walls writhe
their surfaces adorned
with an effluence of madness? grafetti....
Throw backs with paint tubes?
Or Jackson Pollacks with aerosol cans?
Sunday mornings only human grace;
bagel bitters, their sideburn squiggles
the only reassuring reminder of the reverent.
Their continuing presence
these Hasids with prayer shawls dangling
these monochromatic breathes of fresh air
present as the only harbor of safety, sanity,
as a lost girl child returns to her native
Brooklyn.
(My poem is done in Mixed Rhyme which is a form created right here on PoetrySoup by our fellow poet, Ernesto Santiago.)
Things will get worse!
Year after year, of course.
Spend some time planning survival,
don't be blind, don't live in denial.
This message is for the Milliennials,
the one's who were left behind,
the ones who lost parents and grandparents,
but you have survived, it's just not your time.
You bore the weight of the world,
carried the existence of mankind,
raised children you did not bare,
taught them to be loving and kind.
Teach them also to be smart!
Please, learn from our mistakes,
cherish and respect the Earth.
There is so much in nature
that strikes back at destruction.
Mankind aware, or unaware.
Viruses mutate. It's not a fantastical thought.
The Bird Flu, the Swine Flu, SARS and MERS,
and yes, death is what they brought.
Same virus, growing stronger year after year,
mutating over and over, now COVID-19 is here.
It's half life is more than three hours
when expelled in aerosol form,
not the larger droplets, which are here today, deadly,
but tomorrow may be gone.
Next year it may return airborne.
Please, listen to our sorrow,
if you want to call it that.
One after another the virus takes us,
yet we are grateful for your tomorrows.
We have had many years to prepare,
on our journey back to God.
Knowing your lives will be spared
is the only consolation this virus brought.
It's hard for hearts to heal after such massive loss,
and getting through the grief can be rough,
but we left without complaint because we love you,
let that be enough...
to heal your broken hearts.
She's thirty-three, single,
her Mom babysits her
five year old son.
She reassures herself it's
just two more hours,
then it's the blessed weekend.
Which means delicious sleep.
She has no nest egg,
she's just getting by.
There is one kind aging matron
who makes her lunch when she
cleans her large stately home.
Yet, other well-to-do homeowners
cast their false superiority heavy
in the air as she imagines wiping
off their smug faces with Pledge.
She hums to a catchy pop tune
while scrubbing toilets and
spraying down whirlpool bathtubs
as her muscles ache,
wishing she could soak in one.
Maid for the ungrateful,
she smiles remembering her
First Holy Communion,
her snow-white lacy veil,
with her rosary of pearlescent
ivory beads.
Then, a memory of
teenage politics of high school
with random daydreams like
impromptu snapshots.
Her lips and throat dry from
those wretched aerosol sprays,
always forgetting her face mask.
A few sips of tepid Gatorade,
as she softly prays her son will
excel in school.
Her learning disabilities held
her back despite her gift of
intelligence.
This day's cleaning was at the
home of a lawyer's snooty wife,
who was lunching with friends
after klutzy attempts at tennis
at the country club.
Maid for the ungrateful,
can hardly wait to get home
to soak her worn feet with
warm water and Epsom salt
in a porcelain basin. ~
OMG
By R Henderson
Painful sweaty clumps of air converged.
From Uranus it demanded to be purged.
Your body full over engorged.
But the contract of passage had been forged.
The close escape, the quest for relief,
Was obtained but ever so brief.
Out it came in the form of a queef.
But so foul it shriveled a leaf.
Plant life could not even be sustained.
The odor Uranus's neighbor was to blame.
The culprit called out their name.
An arsenal like this had no shame.
But the glory was not felt for long.
Before the bubbles descending sent out their song.
Chords of warning to quickly be gone.
But the noses within the perimeter of Uranus took too long.
For stay they did with bright shining luster.
As down moved the atomic cluster.
Holding on as long as could be mustered.
An old Uranus let lose of a down right dirty foul crop duster.
Four minutes straight the eruption blew.
Within the air even flew
Through the air a piece or two
of Uranus's poo.
No one had listened to the rumble that foretold of this one foul deed.
The pintos, the collards, the black eyed peas.
Caused an explosion that even stopped the refreeze.
The sweet smelling aerosol refused to be freed.
So the stench lingered on everything.
The eyes watered, and Uranus stinged.
You had to sit down exhausted as your bell it dinged.
Finally the relief that a fart was destined to bring.
Boxcar graffiti travels from town to town
It's the eye candy of someone handy, sown
In the sunshine or the rain
It travels on on the train
To all passersby it is known
Nothing short of a museum display
Nothing short of a Fairey
The colors dance
The colors romance
For all who have come out today
We've see your art in different ways
I heeded the message that it portrays
Not to be out done
It's etched for everyone
I've got my lawn chair out to save my place
When I hear that whistle blow
I look outside my window
There for me to see
The glamorous artistry
It's time to start the show
So when it comes into view
It is time to imbue
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall
Palate, paint pen or aerosol
A boxcar reserved for me and you
Then the eerie sound sight
Of a train whistle at night
Gets my mind rolling
Memories start patrolling
I'll live forever in my minds flight
Loved Ones Are Not Troubles
I always tried to understand my Loved Ones -
Look for reasons for this and that,
finding myself turning over and over
their complexities of character -
Sea-mind tumbling precious stones
over and over, time and again
till soft cool cover smooth...
Like reading a favorite book
lived with for so long, kept close at hand-
Special pages, in special chapters
thumbed, ear-marked, loose pages
from constant searching between the lines
for precious understanding
of a delicately written mind.
Tells me so much more,
And more to come...
It's not a passive standing back
that makes me stand beside
Self - willed, self chosen paths.
For then, and right now, I'm overjoyed
seeing the burnt tree, cut down
yet not destroyed, but resting, waiting...
It sends out hopeful shoots of new life.
It grows itself toward divine petrichor -
All it takes is love and patience
to realize that Loved Ones
are not too much trouble....
Except to those impatient
to quick fix a burnt out mind.
Aqua Marine: 16 January 2025
Job 14: 7 - 9.
Psalms 1: 1 - 3.
Petrichor, aerosol, geosmin. etc
Greek origin meanings.
Wikipedia.
(I love research...)
learned nothing from the past
by faces drawn in a smile
we're spinning over it like on a carousel
and again, each time it makes us vomit, we remain stunned
we're leisurely starting to resemble like hamsters
cramming into our gob more than we can handle
ignoring reality frantically spinning in that wheel
now
the stores are closed
playgrounds are enclosed
how little did we appreciate small things
by social distance
desolate supermarket shelves
and respirators reserved for the younger ones
they have put a price tags on seniors' heads
(thank you for your service)
it is defeating that online shopping holds lessons from morality
(thank you amazon and eBay)
it is defeating that without us our home is healing, rebuilding
(I'm sorry mother for I have sinned)
order to keep our social distance at 2m
revealed all the distances in our personal spaces
(the dead are always giving the lecture to the living ones:
regret is a measure of life)
we will survive medically
but socially
we all live our choices
putting on a mask as an escape from death
made us envisage
that piece of fabric is a metaphor
for words left unspoken
for words that shouldn't have been spoken
for smiles which didn't have the weight
for smiles hidden from aerosol
(life is reduced to breathing)
governments are screaming:
this is reality
this is reality
every now and then a new projection flashes in cyberspace:
it's Chinese
it's American
(Americans blame the Chinese, Iranians blame the Americans: During that Russian roulette, Italy got shot)
it's G5
it 's micro-chipping
it's nature
it escaped
it is here
I can see how paths of our society bifurcate
(it's almost palpable)
will we choose a rightful trajectory
or
pave the way for some new prejudices,
some new conflicts
The Valentine dress
A shock and surprise full of red and blue
coming from a heart, mine is devoted to
and from a hand I so value as my cute protection.
It is colourful, fitting and above all an exhibition of love.
The pan
A symbol of my dedication to the family’s need;
a loving reminder of all wonderful breakfasts,
its wash, a satisfaction of my duties already rendered.
The flowers
The purity of beauty without visual effect,
sparkle on the soul to answer their good morning call.
Please every evening with their aerosol of happiness spray,
causing every creature to relax and play.
The wall
A wedge to my upright smooth back
when in a tingly mood so homely and tender.
Its cold sensation, under my handy touch
serves as a suitable background to deep thoughts.
Unfortunately
On the wrong side of an argument,
the pan and my head cause an impact.
At the door ready for a nice outing
the admirable dress is now half way a rag,
the innocent flowers, becoming victims
of rage and uncontrollable violence
and a wall once noted for emotional reflection
is repainted with the splash of blood.
Indeed
I’ve absorbed all the heat and pressures- now he’ll burn.
Human right always prevail over the muscles- this he’ll see!
Immeasurable determination has been planted in a wounded lion
and no amount of sacrifice will deter this quest until justice is served.
Blat , Blat
Sporadic gunfire firing back
Our way of life is under attack
And what I mean by that
Is protect the Oil Refineries
Protect Democracy freedom of speech
Protect the Banks & Institutions
Call the order to Fire Back at Will
Give them a taste of their own medicine
Shoot to Kill
Kill Bill
&
Jack & Jill
Whoosh, Whoosh
Mother nature's dirt is swirling on the breeze
Red Sand
Burnt Yellow's
Orange Haze
The winds ablaze with Corparl Punishment
Doled out by the Ministry of Environment
If 1 is to believe the Kamikaze Pilot
Who just punched another hole into the earth's atmosphere
Put down your Aerosol cans
And travel bans for Airplane's
And Rocket's
Unless there Private hired in the name of
Spreading the Gospel according to
Renewable cleaner Green Energy
Ride your bike not your car
Drip , Drip
Torture Tap
Pop the Champagne Cork
Who cares if the reservoir runs dry
Let the poor drink cake
What else would the poor child have to fill up her day
If moved closer no longer was it a chore to collect water
Sell them gun's instead to play with
Sizzle, Sizzle
Bacons at an all time low
It's now even on the Big Mac
Triple Stack
For Beef is apparently now very bad 2
Lest us all become Vegetarian
Father was a Coal Miner
Out of work and down on his luck
Since progress decided to shut down the mine
Bad choice of Career
How is Daddy now going to pay for his Beer & 40 Fags
His Father before him was an Old Fashioned Cowboy
Driving Herds of Cattle across the wild plains
Powered by Bourbon and Bean's
Rancid and saddle sore
So too 1 day did progress for him come a calling
Putting an end to his self worth and way of life
And with it his family taken on his journey into Alcoholism
A violent man he became
Relics of a certain decade
Products some say Collateral damage
When the Wheel's of Industry Stop
The Silence is deafening
It's like the sound of a knife falling in an gunfight
Shhh , Shhh
Quiet Please
The Library is now in Session
And so begins the Mine for Knowledge
Speak of only Truth , Hope and Courage
Don't be taken in
Don't make the same mistakes History has taught us
What has War ever brought us but death
Fight rather for us than against us
Why be a Tourist ?
When you could be a Guide ? ?
Catastrophes,natural disasters and torrential rains
what causes these thing to happen, on whom do you place the blame?
mankind has misused and abused this planet on which we live
Mother Nature must make adjustments, the forces of nature then give
we have built too many buildings, taken over too much land
an earthquake may be a realignment to the acts and plans of man
aerosol cans, rain forest diminishing, the erosion of the soil and ground
when the rain eventually falls the lack of trees causes the mud to slide down
God gave us some power, many have called it free-will
mankind can use it for good or he can use it for ill-will
yet when many lives are lost and so many souls depart
why does anyone think to ask, was it an act of God?
air pollution, water pollution, the whole industrial age
has ravaged our planet and brought about Mother Nature's rage
we act before we think, we destroyed things that can't be replaced
maybe Mother Nature is trying to tell us to do an about face
tsunamis, monsoons and all types of major tidal waves
may be a wake-up call to how we have behaved
we need to come together and start making some major plans
stop raping our natural resources and start preserving God's land
so if anyone ever asks you, was it an act of God the Lord Christ?
just ask them for this planet, what has mankind sacrificed?
we are selfish in our deeds, self-absorbed in our needs
eventually we must bear the blame and we all will pay the price
just don't be so quick to place the burden of guilt on God the Lord Christ