Long Aires Poems
Long Aires Poems. Below are the most popular long Aires by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aires poems by poem length and keyword.
Padraig's Fire
Hurry!
Hurry through the night
With windstorms
Breathing at your back
Before the shadows know
You pass their doors -
Their darkened, dusty, empty hearths -
Before the dawn ascends -
Before the pipes awaken;
Carry close
Precious flint and tinder
Next to the wildly beating
Warmth -
Beneath your flowing cape.
Hurry!
Hurry down the rolling path,
Rising up to meet your feet,
Sweetly caressing your rushing steps,
Passing sentinels
Of ancient oaks,
Graveyards
Where primeval elms once stood,
That guard a narrow door
Of the river Boyne
Watching over Tara's keep
In a valley of wild rushing eddies
Shedding superstitions
Restraining deep planted longings.
Hurry!
No faire voices invitation;
Only life, held out in promises,
Beckons pilgrims here -
Pass through the numbing chill
Going down to rise up
Past myths
Into inviting aires and covenants;
Pass through the chill of seperation;
Pass through the swirling current
Gripping to release sandaled feet;
Hold high the flint and tinder
Then rest within the hollows of a hand
In quiet glens of grace.
Listen!
Listen for the kerry drums
Pounding welcome in swirling reels -
Ancient dances -
Reawakened from Adam's time
Released from sleep to circle round and round
While sparks from glowing tinder,
Brought to life from sharpened flint,
Battle winds of haunted years
That lived in isolation
Pulling up from fiery spindles flaming whorls -
New and paschal fire returning;
Circles meeting circles thunder
In death's shattering death.
Listen!
Listen as the moan of banshees
Banishes forever winter's touch
To see the sleeping hills
Shake off an exiled life
And hear the harps - uilleann pipes,
Newborn visions
Watch the wind dance of the kells begin
With towering fireworks
Shooting up from the valley floor
In rhythm to the bohdran and the tiompan
To seek completeness
In the hotly glow of dawning -
Vernal offerings in emerald fire.
Arise!
Arise to cradle emerald fire
Dreaming ever softly
In fields of clover
And timeworn stones,
Witnesses
To the arrival of winnowing flames
When centuries embraced
Again
Until the days remembering
Final meals and crosses - a waiting tomb -
Blesses once again
The quest of hard flint and soft tender
Before a cross - life within a circle.
Oh Mr. Moon,
Come back to me so soon:
Life seems to be despondent,
Without you shining on.
See you by my window tonight,
Before I lost my sight.
With this feelin' so nostalgic..
Ease the emotions of melancholic.
One night,you have shown your beauty.
Your face is in felicity,
My emptiness inside is blown away
I am feelin' so complete, I would say.
Oscilliating in the rhythm of the wind
I hope this would never end.
My heart is filled with so much happiness.
Oh, Mr. Moon, you have created my night so perfect.
Can I ask you a request?
Please send my sweet caress,
To the man I love in Buenos Aires.
Oh, Mr. Moon, come back to me so soon.
Moonlight tango
It was a Saturday night, in Buenos Aires, 10:30pm, to be exact. It was a hot summers night, and you could see, and feel, the steam rising from the cobblestone street, here in La Boca barrio*. This is where it all began over a hundred years ago, and you can still see pictures of tangos faded heroes of yesteryear hanging on the walls.
The tango hall was packed with caballeros* in their suits and suspenders, and the damas* dressed in their red dresses, and stiletto heels. Still feels like the roaring 20's fedora hats and all! With a glance, and a flick of his baton, the orchestra leader motions to the bandoneon* player to begin, and so he starts dum dum dum, dum dum, dum dum dum.
The men tilt their fedoras slightly to one side, and stride ever so elegantly across the hall to pick their partner, and together they glide over the black and white checkered marble tile dance floor. The moonlight filters through the skylights, illuminating the smokey haze, that permeates the Milonga* hall.
The dancers have their gazes fixed on each other, and they move and glide to the incessant syncopated rhythm of the bandoneon. The violins and cellos join in with their plucking sound matching the tempo of 2-4 time. The dancers are dancing chest to chest, and then cheek to cheek, moving and gyrating, in time to the beat. As the tempo picks up the pace, arms and legs entwine, and then separate and entwine again. Spinning and twirling, strutting and whirling, they dance into a frenzy, at a frenetic speed, all the while staring with a look of love, (or at least of passionate desire) and what else would you expect to see dancing the moonlight tango?
* La Boca barrio- downtown neighborhood where tango was born
*Caballero(s)-gentleman(men)
*Damas- Ladies
*Milonga- tango dance hall
*Bandoneon- Small accordion style instrument.
John Derek Hamilton
February 07,2017
Oscar was from Argentina,
Buenos Aires city:
his “go to” word was “lindo, lindo”:
Spanish word for ‘pretty’.
‘Lindo’ if you use big words,
‘lindo’ if you cuss:
´lindo’ is the garden gate,
‘lindo’ is the bus.
Oscar went to buy a pet,
to keep him company:
he walked into the poodle shop –
“how much for a bee?”
“One moment please. We don’t sell bees.”
The clerk heard Oscar speaking.
Perhaps his English needs some help
to get the pet he’s seeking.
“Chihuahuas, dachshunds, corgis too:
simply place an order:
we’ll get a husky, if you want:
we’ve friends across the border.”
But Oscar didn’t take the bait.
He didn’t want a puppy,
or marmoset or guinea-pig,
or parakeet or guppy.
“I’ve seen the bee that’s just for me:
he’s lindo, lindo, lindo:
here’s my money – get it done –
he’s right there, in the window!”
Born before the war
The sky was sullen and sorrowful
was the mist smoke from hot cannons
on crackling radios, people listened to
a man shrieking and thought
what a useless idiot
my birth was painful for my mother
she cried
my brother entered the room
slapped my face for hurting her
He was four years old and born,
a mild fine day in May
thus of happy disposition
expert in telling jokes
and in later years, wore my leather
jacket I had bought in Buenos Aires
October weather has much to answer for
my gloomy opinions are banned
on the Woke sensors on Facebook
who says, if you cannot be pleasant, send
a picture of a day in May
Me, I was expelled when the junta of four
colonels who ruled Greece for drinking ouzo
and be critical of them
Sent to an island for the mad, but six
month later, the hapless four officers
joined me and became orderly, cleaning
bed pans
Voyagers
The old ship
rust stripped like a Sudanese mule
doomed to carry fleeing people across
a landscape of despair
Why, she floats is a lasting mystery
From one obscure port to another
she finds her way
The captain and the chief are never sober
plays ten-cent poker
The captain signs the manifesto but takes
no interest, what's in the ship's hold
other than massive rats
when did the pair come onboard, was it
when they were young and wore uniforms
and had shiny black shoes inspected
the crew's fingernail on Saturdays?
Morning in La Plata
tomorrow I will go ashore in Buenos Aires
eat fresh meat and dance the tango.
The dreamers
She has fallen asleep in the living room, watching TV
I feel guilty should have joined her, but soap opera, do my head in
Now, I am going to sit near her on the sofa and when she wakes up
She will think I have been sitting there all the time
She will be happy and hold my hands
I have promised her tomorrow, we are going for a drive along the coast
Stop for coffee and a cake, and watch the young swimmers frolicking
She will tell me again at the time she was a stewardess and danced
The tango in Buenos Aires, not to be outdone, I will tell a story from
The time when I was young, omitting the women thing-
She had a great time while I spent much time reading books and
Dreaming in the ship’s cabin, I had no the courage to live the life
Unless I was sozzled and my phobia of the outdoors ran my life, about
The jolly man who knew tomorrow, the fear would return.
The things I feel, I struggle to express.
The frustration that grows within me as if I was thrashing in the water trying to gain air. I just can't breach the surface. I can't reach but I keep fighting.
It's like I'm wrapped in heavy wet blankets and my arms and legs are tied together. The more I struggle the worse it gets til my whole body is exhausted and the fatigue makes my body weak and tremble.
I look at others and their fake life and how they put on Aires and act like everything is wonderful and great, and I wish more than anything I could be like them. That I could just act like or maybe even really feel like nothing was or is wrong.
This heart of mine has never been cared for or taken care of, It's been beat bruised and broken over and over and used. Yet I stay the way I am. And beg for love like a dog begging for table scraps. Just hoping for attention and love I'm a good boy.
Looking every where for acceptance and care. Only finding lies and distrust. Blame and non accountability for others own actions.
Never will I feel safe or truly cared for.
Heard a quote said we don't get mad at kids for being scared of the dark but then we surprised by men that are scared of the light. None of my hurt my pain or scars came from a monster in the dark, every single one came from the people I knew, loved and cared for.
so the monster aren't ugly dark hiding gross things. They are and forever will always be the smiling faces that speak as a friend and confidant. The real monsters hide in the ones closest to you. Smiling faces turn to evil whispers and speak your name to drag you down to their level. They smile and even say they love you but then turn around and giggle and laugh and talk behind your back. Just sharpening the blades they will use to slowly cut at you as they watch the red slowly leaks out and drips onto their shoes and then get mad at you for bleeding on them.
Athens, quite a place, so full of mythology
Buenos Aires, in Argentina, a place I'd love to see
Canberra, is just antipodean class
Dublin, a pint of Guinness in a glass
Edinburgh, the capital of the Scots
Freetown, a city, now violence is never sought
Georgetown, a place where Jim Jones left a scar
Helsinki, in its mountains, where reindeer herd so far
Islamabad, one of the greenest cities of the east
Jakarta, very close to where the Komodo's live and feast
Kuwait City, the start of Saddam's downfall
La Paz, is the capital, that looks down on them all
Monaco, where the rich and famous live
Nassau, with her golden beaches, where the breakers finally give
Oslo, in the land of skiing and fjords
Prague, with its architectural hoard
Quito, is the second highest in the world
Rome, to the lions, the Christians were hurled
Seoul, in the lands of the 38th parallel
Tripoli, where many an Anzac's fell
Ulaanbaatar, in a country full of steppes
Valletta, amidst the Mediterranean set
Warsaw, the ghetto's in World War II
Xi'an, its all i have to see this through
Yerevan, near the Biblical mountains, of Ararat
Zagreb, escaped being a Balkan War stat
Written 3/1/2010.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/the-world.php
The RedSkull and Prime Earth
sorted the frials of dispair
to combine there effords
against the SuperFreinds
they seek Ugum Bigimous to find the
earthious Prescious
Tabernacle in the Jungles of the Amazon.
The Shere of Orbious shall be unearthed
to bring destruction to
those in opposition of me.
The Ganglioness of Evil shall
fool the men of the Allied Planetary defence
and there disconcern for there wives shall
cause the great divide in all of the World.
Punks and F$ggots shall
find new wives
and new types of discriptions shall
cause men and women to create
new discriptions of Psycodummism.
Whores shall unite with the hope of
coupling. Whoremongers shall stand tall together
in this new deminsion
The RedSkull shall be seen as
the One true Malo amongest all people.
The Mano of Manoes!
"My Kryponite shall destroy Superman"
Little does he know that
the waters of the tainted pooles
of Vallis Aires have transformed Robin into
Theropodious Rapious the exoskelton of the
the combined companies of LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises
shall sheild Superman from the RedSkulls Kryptonite!
Zig du dum Ditty
bebop ditty!
Zuppa Wop Dew Woop!
" The night becomes day only for those who profit to enjoy: might he days of tommorrow warm your cruel cold heart!"
The Red Skull to Superman
Zu Zum ditty
zoop woop dew woo de wop!
"I'm neither frightened or afraid of you Red Skull, pull the wig off to show how much b$tch you really are!"
Superman to the RedSkull
Oscillations caused by interacting magnetic fields and electric currents in plasma.