Long Air(a) Poems
Long Air(a) Poems. Below are the most popular long Air(a) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Air(a) poems by poem length and keyword.
"When Adam First Saw Eve"
All alone in a Garden of Beauty
Adam thought, "WOW!!!.....
this is all mine!
I can hang out,
take naps,
do whatever I want to-
MAN!!!.....
I'll do this ALL the time!"
Without...the slightest care,
in this,
his new world,
see......
he didn't even know
that he had a heart
"MAN!!!....
I feel like the
"KING OF EVERYTHING!
From my Eden.....
I WILL
NEVER PART!"
One afternoon,
after hanging out
all morning,
he felt a yawn
coming on!
He thought.....
"I'll lie down and take a short nap
then get up
and do my hanging out
'til dawn!"
See.....
Adam didn't have
the slightest clue
of what was in store
for him!
He was about to get
the "SHOCK"
of his life,
for a change in his world
he was.....on the brim!!!
When he awoke and
he opened his eyes
he noticed all the creatures
were standing still!
Something had
their undivided attention-
"Let me go take a look-
Yeah....that I will!"
LO....and BEHOLD,
to his surprise,
what he saw
knocked him three steps back!!!
His jaw dropped to the ground
as he shouted
out loud.....
"WHOA!!!.....
WHO IN THE FREAK
IS THAT!!!"
His heart started to pound
"SO FAST".....
that he grabbed his chest
with both hands!!!
Sounds started coming
out of his mouth.....
"WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME???-
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND!!!"
This new "MS. WHATEVER"
turned and looked at him,
upon her face came a lovely smile!
Adam jumped straight up
in the air....he jumped up
in the air a good mile!!!
When he came down
he looked around and saw-
there was no other one
like SHE!!!
He said.....
"I am the luckiest
MAN of all time!!!-
WHOA!!!.....
I think
SHE LIKES ME!!!
He started babbling.....
he even tried to sing a song!
How much more
"HAPPY"
could he be???
He looked up
and kept saying
repeatedly,
to the sky.....
"THANK YOU GOD,
for giving
HER
to me!!!"
He kept saying this
over and over again
for he couldn't
take his eyes off of her!
He said.....
"WHOA!!!-man".....
"WHOA!!!-man".....
"WHOA!!!-man".....
"WHOA!!!---
MAN!!!
What a beautiful
"WHOA!!!-MAN"
is SHE!!!
Now.....
that moment
"WHEN ADAM FIRST SAW EVE"
completely changed
the entire atmosphere!
The rest we do know,
so this is a good spot
to end this poem.....
right here!
(WTA-IV)
3/5/2016
Into the buoyant blue of a summer sky
I throw my fortune and my hopes.
With wings and wonder I survey
the world above and need some time
up there before descending back to earth.
Advancing throttle up I climb, rocket
like and plumb, to check the heights
of clouds and skill, rolling left, then
right as in a dance, light
with release from gravity.
Before my plane escapes my vision, too, I guide
it over a graceful arch, until fast approaching
ground is all I see, and while succumbing
to the appetite of earth for things detached,
roll again and again in defiance, cutting
facets from the burnished blue.
Pushing hard to inverted flight, I see things
from a different point of view. Pressure
on the stick reminds me that up is down, and
I must concentrate to follow a horizontal path.
The Extra was made for this, I tell myself,
and brace for more.
Throwing sticks to the corner I force a snap. In a burst
of energy my wings become a blur. Like a wayward
child nose and tail go off track and need correction.
The stress on joints and structure is immense, yet
my plane obeys with no complaint, rebelling
only at my command to return wings level.
Like a metronome ticking over the rhythmic pounding
of my heart I count my way through a hammerhead:
“Throttle up and push, and, wait, and… release!
1 and 2 and roll and roll, and
1 and 2 and throttle back… rudder!”
The plane pauses in mid-air – a sentry in the sky - then pivots
on a point. Opposite aileron keeps me in a geometric plane,
and earthward bound once more I resume the beat:
“1 and 2 and roll: to canopy, and belly!
1 and 2 and push!”
The lines and arcs I draw through weather fair and foul
are my signature, the salient points of aerobatic discourse,
a test of nerves and steel, the embrace of fear.
Breaking through that wall, I emerge
free to explore the boundaries of my craft.
I must look beyond the attitude of pitch, roll and yaw
to see the art that I’m creating there
from the power and pull of wings through air.
Holding a precise line against the force
of Indiana winds or the vagaries of a Midwest storm,
with sunburned lips, lack of sleep or
a thousand other faults...
ah, there is the rub.
It is no easy thing, and still I try
to reach perfection, to control the direction
I will fly in that endless summer sky.
“Freedom is just another word for nothin left to lose.
Feeling good was easy Lord, when he sang the blues” ~ Janis Joplin ~
Life was filled with laughter.
A feeling of happy ever after.
We knew each other so well.
Walking on air, a magic spell.
Nothing better than my hand in yours.
We even enjoyed doing chores.
You called me your own sweet pea.
No more joyful woman there could ever be.
People would stare as we walked down the street.
A more in love couple they couldn’t meet.
I trusted you with my life.
Tears of joy the day you asked me to be your wife.
We were going to be a family.
How proud we would be.
My heart would take flight.
At the wonderful sight,
Of you coming through the door,
Arms laden with roses galore.
I knew nothing could be better some how,
But that was then and this is now.
Life turned grey and filled with fears,
You couldn’t be with me to wipe my tears.
The sun still shines inside these prison walls.
You don’t hear when my lonely heart calls.
The sun here is a prisoner too,
And I can think of nothing but missing you.
Now I face each day alone,
And saddest of all is waking up on my own.
Chilled by the harsh steel of these prison bars.
No windows to seek countenance from the stars.
You can’t bring me roses, they won’t survive.
I sometimes feel that I am no longer alive.
You have lost your own true sweet pea.
No more hope of us having a family.
Cause that was then and this is now.
One mistake changed it all some how.
I don’t see beyond all the tears.
Your wife to be, will be here for years.
Freedom is gone and I carry on.
Wings clipped like a flightless swan.
Some days I see the sun’s bright hue.
But the sun in here is a prisoner too.
Never let your fears be the boundaries of your dreams. ~ unknown
Erase the dark with morning’s sweet breath,
Shimmering light silences shadow’s caress,
Blaming the night for all the worries and strife,
As whispers remember where her light shines.
Softest reflection of grace and love’s musings,
Gentling the spirit with quaint hues, so soothing,
Trembling to kiss her like the spring kisses summer,
Inviting the beauty of a heart spent by promise.
Collections of light, sighing so faintly, calming
The air, a blend of cinnamon and intimacy,
Laughing like the moon who shimmers in the east,
Brilliant and alive, peace woven through her seams.
Melting my dreams with a sincere enthusiasm,
Restoring hopes who couldn’t believe,
Challenging me to breathe when I feel like wheezing,
Remembering to agree with the spring’s blessings.
Listening to the music of wonder, amazed,
Feelings so quiet, breathless as tender praise,
Moments enchanted by the fireside of grace,
Shedding all the weary, bringing out heaven’s peace.
Risking every lifetime, weighing the chains of sorrow,
In undertones of melancholy, consenting to the joys,
Realize the dreams who reach beyond a heart and soul,
Into the miracles that abide in celestial folds - simply pure gold.
Forget about discouragements, darkness and dread,
Never let the fears compare to the strength of daring,
Defeat the night with the promise of shimmering legends,
Those who believe each wish is not complete without a heart.
Bring hope its reflection of a moment without time,
Where time was held by the faith of one who knows life…
Excites the kind, the song bringing assurance that abides,
Surviving all the worst that comes, with beautiful insights.
Realize, wherever you go, whatever you think you may know,
There is One who is alive, who decides…
If your heart is one who believes in real love, if your heart,
Will succeed in giving more than it is asking for…
And, realize – remember that with God’s glorious light,
There is the chance that – reflected in your heart,
You’ll discover the when and the how, the reason for it all,
There inside where His love glistens and glitters, inspiring…
The heart to always know – the blessing of love’s confiding!
Wood Nymph, wraps white
gossamer legs in hello, as branch shakes
in obvious "ka_ching"!
'Oh wait till you see what she does next",
tattles the tree, in an excited and mischievous
foreboding.
Itself, a Familiar and Servant,
hypnotized to carry and present her gift of wrap
and wrap of gift.
The naughty Nymph O pushes herself halfway up
like a tired and cautious sloth
(on the lip of a drinking cup.)
An innocent look beguiles her face
as essence of bark soils it's digits up,
To stick like a sponge to her curves like a leech
leeching much.
Nurses a clamp to her soft skin
as if to aspire seed of sapling in sap, sapping sin.
As She stares through, impossibly pierced,
her cruelly clumsy jiggle starks the eye
in an ultra violence of lumplumpsum.
The forest stirs with whispers of silence,
gossiper secretions to soil more.
Wood nymph dances careless,
her story unfolding, merciless amore.
Her web weaving legs, wrapped in ethereal grace,
licks of
delicate tricks of creature of delicacy.
Surreal ad vise given visa visage
it's enchanting embrace.
The trees, they giggle with mischievous delight,
as they await her next move, a magical sight.
A familiar servant, the branches extend,
presenting her gifts, their devotion, bend.
Halfway she rises, cautious and slow, oh dear.
Like a tired sloth, uncertain where to go
but nearer near.
Innocence plays upon her beguiling face,
as she clings to the bark, leaving presiding trace.
A sponge to her curves, the bark holds so tight,
seeks to crumble there.
Leaving a mark, a visible sign of it's mare.
But she dances on, with a clumsy sway.
A violence of debauchery in a mystical play,
there there, tears tears tears.
Her presence, it lingers, in the air, a fragrance,
mimicking the soul bare.
A poem to stir souls, in carom of supernatural
resonance in crept.
The wood nymph bewitches with every step,
to numb your penance swept.
Leaving an imprint of memory kept as plum-line erect.
In the depths of the forest, her essence will remain,
a powerful muse, never to wane.
For she is a poet's dream, an excuse so rare,
relished relic of the gone insane.
Captivated, beyond complain,
the Satyr's forehead yields sign, pops a vein.
Such a perfect January Day,
off to have ourselves a perfect stay.
I remember the sun glistening off the morning snow,
the crystalled water in the bay there down below.
The bluish sky and crisp air cooling,
so filled the air a love so fooling,
to both our heads it spun and twirled
As, to her I, and I to her,
we where each others.
All the world.
The perfect weekend get away,
where we could enjoy the winter's snow.
A romantic little hideaway,
on our special day we'd go.
To a place where we could be alone,
where we could be, just us two.
When we were together, it never mattered what we'd do.
On our way with our hearts at play
we sat hand in hand.
On this our special
January day.
We had been but a year together
but already knew it would be forever.
Our bond that held so tightly it shall never,
the bond we knew would never sever.
And of whom each other we did so adore.
Bragging to one another, of who loved who more.
Far beyond what can't be described.
Never did I believe I could feel that way,
A love that cause the rest the world to fade
On this our perfect
January day.
With deprived and such depleted mind
at the wheel, we both had spent our nine.
And so a game to help us pass the time.
As her driving, was not as mine.
A friendly challenge thought of a young ones wisdom.
I dared if she passed the cars ahead, her reward would be this.
A sweet nothing in her ear said, and a lovers kiss.
She laughed, she giggled, she smiled my way
at all the things I had to say.
On such a loving
January day.
And from our wondrous laughter,
always lingered right there after.
Such a warming feeling,
of our two hearts each reeling.
And as we passed them faster,
there we turned there lurked disaster.
Round the corner horn we sounded.
Appeared a truck there stalled and stay,
and with it we collided,
on that fearful, forever tearful
January day.
With remorseless force, we come crashing down.
The only thing worse than the impact,
was that horrid sound.
Crushing steel with breaking glass
we hit and it happened so, way too fast.
A screaming bang, then dead silence
Never had my world, seen so much violence.
Out cold I went and there I lay.
Not knowing what just happened
on this dark and dreadful
January day.
1400 year
(A translation effort of a composition of Rabindranath Tagore)
Today. After a hundred years.
You. You are a reader, passionate and avid one.
Resonating in the verses of a poem. Mine.
A curious one.
Today. After a hundred years.
Today. When the new spring sings in the morning chime.
Any of those colors in flora and fauna.
The fragrance, the song of the chirping bird. That wraps today.
With the brightest red among roses in sight, on a wishful flight
I , a vulnerable one, will fail, within,
to belong there in love, with love, that brings of more
Joyous tune along the lifelong shore.
As they will be greeted as yours
Today. After a hundred years. More.
Still you will open the northern door of thine.
And you will gaze there as your life will rejoice in divine.
On that wider horizon, a twilight sky, enlightened
where your verses will find your peace, serene and reigned.
As brimming tears reflect on the tranquil imagination.
Today. After a hundred years more. On a promising morn.
Heaven. A distant tune in flight. Estranged in a world. But not in oblivion.
Mingled in air, a song within souls.
When thy soul rose, in an all-encompassing one.
Those newer days of spring, tied in a chanting knot. In a joyful echo, of a flight of a song.
That song, a fragrant one.
Will find a gentle breeze blowing from the north, of yours. A gentle kind.
That rushes through the colorful sky.
Brushstrokes on a canvass. Colors of reasons. Colors of rhymes.
On that day. A poet was born. With an earnest desire, within a song.
Of verses of unseen, verses of an eternal dawn.
Words. Blossoming in those verses, in colorful petals of a flower.
In love of divine.
One day. A hundred years before.
One day. After a hundred years more.
May your home be filled with warmth. Within.
A new voice of a poem, A poet, A song, A hymn, bygone.
Do you know the voice of him?
The spring. In the gentlest of your muse.
In you. In yours. An envelope to your ever-flowing brooks
May thy song seasons the soul.
And may thy heart find a love, in murmuring leaves, buzzing of bees
New day, may thy soul be in Gods and green.
Today. After a hundred years more. Longer than an eternal dawn.
As I sit in the audience, my heart swells with pride, Watching my man up on stage, his dreams coming alive. His words float through the air, a melody so sweet A rap god in the making, his talent no other can beat.
Each line he spits is filled with passion and truth, Teaching the world to love, spreading positivity and youth. His music inspires hearts, ignites a fire within, Bringing people together, breaking down every sin.
I remember the days when he first started out
Just a man with a dream, filled with doubt
But he never gave up, he pushed himself hard
Determined to make a mark, to be a shining star.
And now here he stands, a force to be reckoned with His music touching souls, filling hearts with bliss. His rhymes are like poetry, his flow so smooth, Captivating audiences, making them groove.
I see the sparkle in his eyes, the passion in his soul ,As he raps about love, making broken hearts whole. He speaks of unity, of acceptance and peace His words a beacon of hope, a sweet release.
The world needs his music, now more than ever,
A message of love, to bring us together
In a time filled with hate, anger, and fear
He shines a light, making everything clear.
I watch as he commands the stage, owning the mic, His energy electric, his presence a delight. He moves the crowd, he holds them all captive his words like a spell, a force so seductive.
I am in awe of his talent, his dedication and drive, How he's overcome obstacles, how he continues to thrive. He's a true artist, a visionary, a lyrical genius, His music a gift, a blessing to us.
And as I watch him perform, I can't help but feel Grateful to be by his side, to witness the transformation of a boy into a man,
A dreamer turned doer, with a mic in his hand.
I know that he's destined for greatness, that he'll go far, Spreading love and positivity, from the morning star. And I'll be right here, cheering him on, watching him make all his dreams come true, until the break of dawn.
So here's to my man, my rap god, my love
Teaching the world to love again, rising above
With his music as his weapon, his heart as his guide I'll be by his side, watching him reach new heights.
I was newly hired at her place of employment. My office was not yet prepared for occupancy, so I shared an office with my superior. It happened 30 years ago and although I was a much younger man, I find it hard to believe some of the things I did. I was a man of 39, never realizing how blind I was about matters of human relations. Thanks to a dear one named Harriet , I repented and turned from the error of my ways. No, she was not the super saintly type and did not ware a
Halo, nor did she rush to say hello. But yes, she was indeed a Christian lady.
One afternoon as I was busy arranging and organizing items on the desk I shared with our boss, Harriet, his secretary, entered the office and catching me in the very act, she said to me "what are you doing?" A quick response from me provoked a stern remark from her, " You have no right to redesign his desk and office". No further comment was necessary. I should have known better. A life lesson of privacy was quickly taught by a Christian lady I once knew. It was the first of two gifts I treasured from Harriet during my six year tenure.
The second gift she gave to me was a book entitled "My utmost for his highness" which is a devotional among the best in the world and highly valued by me. she autographed the Book with a note to me in her words- " To remember me by". I tell you, I needed nothing to aid with the remembrance of Harriet, for she was a jewel, a pearl of great price, a treasure hidden in a field, a breath of fresh air, a cup of water in the desert.
Some years later, I received word that she was fighting cancer in the hospital. When I visited her, she was sleeping and slowly dying. I sat with her in the room, just she and i, recalling her gift of words to me in our boss' office and The devotional she gave to me that I so deeply treasure.
I tell you, some people enter and exit our lives rather briefly, leaving a gold mine of precious memories.
092619PS
*HS
Hell is a place of eternal torture
With restlessness’ angst and despair-puncture
Sealing the faithless in their doomed future
Midst cruel hatred’s defiant gesture.
Hell is a prison of endless darkness
Where misery’s gloom prevails in blackness
Due to sufferings, despair, hopelessness
Leaving the convicts in their guilt’s fierceness.
Hell* is a cell of everlasting torment
Expressing death's wailing every moment
As sorrows, anguish, woe wildly lament
With constant gnashing of teeth engagement.
Hell is a dungeon where there’s no exit
And each one slides toward bottomless pit
Struggling to reach foot stool summit
Yet never to taste freedom’s air a bit.
Hell is lake of fire** where God’s wrath abides
Unreached by His mercy, while His grace hides
There, worms die not, with pleas’ screams at all sides
Along unheard prayers … deserving chides.
Hell awaits everyone who’s a sinner
Bearing “You’re forever condemned” banner
No one can flee from punishment runner
While Satan and cohorts serve cursed dinner.
Hell can be missed by trusting the great Lord
In placing faith in God upon His Word
He vanquished hell’s might with His divine sword
For those who are in Christ in sweet accord.
Hell is indeed closed to the redeemed soul
Assured by the Almighty's loving goal
Granting eternal life**, forever whole
Through Jesus Christ in His great Saviour's role.
*Luke16:23And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments...
**Revelation 20:14 - And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death. Revelation 21:8 - But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.
***Romans 6:23 For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
October 5, 2018
Edited on March 5, 2023
2nd place, "Hell" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori; judged on 3/10/2023.