Long Airwaves Poems

Long Airwaves Poems. Below are the most popular long Airwaves by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Airwaves poems by poem length and keyword.


Damsel In Distress

Heartbroken lass bereft of eminent beau
papa doth vicariously experience her
(mine daughter's) grievous woe.

Unfair a budding promising relationship nought
going to incorporate wedded bliss,
when for all the world
the strong humble lad
absconded to Puerto Rican his homeland.

Thus pained University
of Pennsylvania alumna
("star student") since grade one
at Belmont Hills Elementary
whose high school alma mater
i.e. Harriton High School,
now glum Oakland California transplant.

I (biological father),
who helped beget offspring
writhes with agony,
cuz he and the missus
sowed wild oats
during prime time,
when irresistible call of the wild
overtook wisdom to shuck contraceptive
yielding the miracle of life.

Parenthood never ended
just because declaration of independence
and autonomy witnessed natural propensity
for progeny to reliant become on self
forced shoulder living expense
no only for herself,
but deux darling
tortoiseshell dappled

five month old kittens
most certainly a constant reminder,
when she and he "two peas in a pod"
shared so many college campus memories,
whereby appearances hinted
and predicted a shared destiny
between two love birds.

An abrupt cleavage
rent asunder never witnessing
mutual graceful dotage
figuratively saddled once ebullient psyche
unnecessarily bogged our engineering minded lady
with cumbersome equipage
after they spent precious
young adulthood years together

emulating how married couple live, I gauge
such scenario, cuz talk of wedding bells
filled the (telephonic) airwaves,
whereby yours truly feeling blessed
potential prodigal son in law
his earning hand over fist big bucks
employed at Silicon Valley company
geared toward marketing fitness application.

Unsure how said high achiever
bolstered with you go girl refrain,
(who ofttimes communicated with Zayda,
i.e. his demise a crushing sorrow),
which inevitable prolonged decline

sundered special rapport
since more'n threescore
Earth orbits around the sun
papa acquired mechanical engineer degree
working within Aerospace Division
at General Electric.

Impossible mission not to care
despite mein kampf punctuated
with mine wanderlust flair
marital covenant garden variety
wordsmith did greatly impair
triggering hostility within mine humble lair
adulterer letter forcibly donned as outerwear.


And Here I Sit For the Thousandth Time

And here I sit for the thousandth time
Writing over and over the same old lines
Lost in the dark its hard to see
Im right here and I cant find me
Mirrors lie we all know that 
It doesn’t see as your heart is trapped
Except now theres truth in the night
It only reflects black without the light
And death calls just beyond the door
Stealing away all that I lived for
And I find 
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn 
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And Im so sorry for all Ive done
Haunting thoughts the tears start to run
Tracing paths down to the floor 
Still wet from the time before
Ive cried and cursed all alone
Has the heart of God turned to stone
Was I placed here just as a filler
Destined to lose all to the Dealer
Was all ive done so meaningless
Down to the first girl that I kissed
And I find 
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn 
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And does the God of man
Just sit back to watch the hourglass sand
As the desperate cries fill the air
in his heart,  is there a small tear
Or do the forgotten wonder the earth
Cursed with death from their birth
Is each life just a tv screen
That flickers and fades and goes unseen
Airwaves that fill the night sky
Lonely lives that are just a lie
And I find 
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn 
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And were all my desires just as fake
As is each breathe that I take
And was everything for nothing at all
Just a plaything as Gods little doll
Whatever the truth Im still in this moment
Afraid and alone Im still in this moment
And the truth is what  I  see
Whether lies or real im losing me
And the truth is what  I feel
and the truth, its killing me still
And I find 
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn 
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all
And all these memories come pouring out
Can I know love when I’m full of doubt
And how am I expected to be
After all that’s happened to me
Or am I deformed somewhere inside
Somewhere deep where my soul has died
And are all these reasons why
God whispers I must die
Was there a last chance I missed
Hidden behind a betraying kiss
And so….
I find
As I fall
That my life
Was so small
And as I turn 
I hear the call
I close my eyes
And let go all….
Form: Lyric

Erasure

not in the heart again
for chrissakes it's like Swiss cheese
decoffinated please I'm a yet ambulatory zombie
off his medication as usual
alternatives to logic 101 with Prof. Spike
far too much work for a dead end
saw his only ally the embalmers needle
left his innards spilled in the sand
history in its entirety mocked his comprehension
had the nation in tears and then nausea
several dueling scars graced his genitals
if our perceptions already lie
why shouldn't we
I had to laugh 
it was all I could do to keep from smiling
even after a thousand years of AI research
the electronic government was helpless
my Microsoft forehead radiator
absolutely charmingly couldn't get any focus
but the Royal Society of Blind Philosophers
helped me with my little problem
a miracle of recipe repair
because our endorphin soup is a bit thin 
the quicksilver cooks ate first and fell asleep
having thrown away their brains long before
in the field kitchen of the gods
after the air raid sirens of postmodernity
can there be too much truth
for  an army of blood diamond merchants
now a bit more about para electrics
if only I were at liberty to discuss it 
yes imprecision can carry signal
but the place is crawling with dilettantes
wearing their secret butt plugs
it's a guessing game as you can see
petitioning for a visually diagrammatic idiom
although it's a devilish seesaw but let us restart
The Oblivion Ride was the big theme park attraction
my extended family was in the sideshow
justifiably taken for a pack of fools
then the sun went down and never came up again
and we stepped into the stone circle
chanting evidence is preferable
to the moonlit tombstone 
good luck with that in your airwaves
broadcast on radio Sarajevo
signal drifting drifting drifting
with minds great and small
and smaller and smaller
the Internet is the yearned for Messiah
there it's done and out and not to be unseen
you wrestle with it while I proceed
dashing among startled commuters
mesmerizing the fact finding committee
their dictatorship of x-ray leeches
tossed him out of several monasteries
apparently the production quotas were relaxed
in a kaleidoscope of normalcy
the style crazed mannerist martinets
howdy do nail in my shoe


From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/

The Definition of Innocence Part 2

(continued from part 1)

What is innocence
that little boy
whose pulling his toy 
with it’s broken wheel
Do you think he doesn’t know that the price of that crack needle
Could buy him a meal?
Do you think he doesn’t,  know 
that that beer bottle
Is why he bares the bruises on his skin
Is it why he has to force himself to grin?
Is that little girl sitting with her perfectly coifed dolls 
Singing to herself so she doesn’t hear the screams
Doesn’t she scream in terror
as her father bursts into her dreams.
And shoves her mom crashing into her little table.
Does she have to dream, to live her fable
And even then, 
is she able?
Do you wonder what she is thinking 
as she struggles to push the head back on her doll
or is it a way for her to merely,  ignore it all
Are you watching with 20 million other viewers 
A drone in your living room, a slave to a box
A fly in a web of airwaves 
Do you think your government is doing the same 
Or are they filling up
Graves
is there an agenda being played 
as our minds are swayed
Is this distraction as innocent as it seems?
And that epidemic….An epidemic of having too much food
Begging someone please!
stop us from eating I cant see,
my knees
like it’s the bubonic plague
like we’re dropping like flies
An epidemic!
Could we build a memorial and carve on its stone
5 million died this year
from an this epidemic  alone
we could… if we replaced obesity  with
starvation
Is it ironic that the fat kids stomach looks just as big 
as the starving ones.
What is innocence
Is a boy who just wants to spend time with his grandpa
He doesn’t understand
As his grandpa takes him by the,  hand
And leads into the bathroom
To show him the darker side of man
That in that moment he’ll have to grow up
Faster then he planned
Faster then he can
What is innocence
Does it exist in this land
From the time were born
We stripped down, bought and torn
From violence to ****
We’re watched and mimicked 
Our lives just a gimmick 
To get in our little kids heads 
Where innocence treads
To take away their bliss
The only thing that they were born,  with
What is innocence
Does it exist anymore
Or in this day and age 
Have we closed that door
Forever more?

Elitists Part 3

All these racists with their lies,
filling the airwaves with propaganda and strife,
Stalins with soundbytes, Magellan their drivebys
 the pasts dead end street -topically jacknifed 
like it was the only course for a heading, point A to point B.
We pedestrians to lame a detour again, hobbled by peasantry.

But yevolt! Herr Commandant! the halt needs to screech, 
only, the rich like you aint in the inner city!
we aint all nazis, 
rich republicans or democrats of opportunity
those tobacco cotton czar b*tc**s aint got nothing to do with me
But for you angry youngbloods I see that your blinkers is on
, 
flashing inequality, white privilege, and the radios singing that song-
"and the beat goes on and on and on", sheeples, 8 mile,
single file through Babylon.
yes we see you getting pulled over, and aint done nothin wrong
didn't join a gang or messover someone 
How would you act if you were the privileged of hip hop and R&B
Say there's a lack of opportunity?
Like a cat coloring the kettle black, while the cauldron is full of Crystal bubbly.
No, you know love and understanding is a two way street
Now about Mr. Cam Newton and his claim at being a "different breed"
Sounding a bit like a young hitler, a complex of superiority
Now I know there's 31 flavors choco-malatto- San gusto consuella-injustice- demingo-......
 so many ways to taste, defeat, scoop up the malaise
don't rub it in the face when you're on top of the heap, 
make people suck on your chocolate dipped cone of invincibility, 
pop cultured froyo with extra cream
bet it makes the taste of vanilla a fetish treat, 
out of spite, cause African got some ultra fine honeys
how do you think they feel when you got a fetish for something not a bit more sweet
leaves a bad taste, in the palate of the nationality
too much high flying, smack talking, 
mainlining, cult of punk personality
there aint no union in a phrase like "aint seen nothin like me"
I think you better stick with a spoon, 
dig your way out of the backstabbery
a silver one for coddled athletes, who got nothin else to do 
but compete for biggest cat in a cradle, big man blue
"but they never considered me"
Is there anybody else? I ask you, seriously, just you?
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member EAST COAST JAZZ

Yo. From a whisper, barely a breath, to a front-page roar/  EAST COAST JAZZ  in the fifties, sixties/
 Not just blowing trumpets, but blowing up the jazz scene jazz/
 LPs stacked high vinyl spinnin’, cracklin' truth in every hip-to-be way. Jazz LPs, popin'’ the Truth, etched in black and white/ modern Jazz on the HIFI/
Jazz woke the airwaves up and made the radio take notice; everything felt right. Radio turned on, folks got wise and understood, and Jazz got the blood pumpin' in the mean streets day or night/
 If you wanted to be hip to the now, the real, the raw, Late-night clubbing and listening was law, absolute law/
 Ornette Coleman, man, a wild, horn-blowin’ free-to-be jazz king  machine/  Free jazz founder/ hear his  freedom RING!/
 Then there's Mingus, righteous anger in his bass, Collective improv, settin' souls ablaze. Lay into "East Coasting," on Bethlehem Records, and let the music soak you down/
 Starch your mind with Mingus, that ain't no stereophonic joke! No cover charge here, baby, just pure, unbridled bebop to the  cool Miles sound/
 A caravan of cats, late-night jams, playin’ something new and bold, Europe callin', TWA Flight 978 ready to take flight/
 The Big Apple throbbed, a concrete, jazz-filled hang, Saxophone Colossus,  Sonny Rollins, so raw, New York summer Hot Rollins, defying every jazz law/
 Moody and quirky, a genius in disguise/ Influencing the young horns, reaching for the skies/
 Sonny Rollins, deep in jazz thought on a  New York big city day/
 Sonny wrote a brand new Jazz Forever heavy  page/
 The jazz world exploded, on the silver screen, a fifty-cent ticket was your  soundtrack to life, a vibrant, vital scene/
 "Take Five," baby, the pulse, the driving soul on a  jazz beat on  stage/
 I'm on the  Lex Ave Trane, headin' for Groove Street! hold on, hold tight, let Abbey Lincoln sing, while we map our next gig, let’s name our new LP/ the Big Vibe/
 Yeah…  East Coast jazz… never really dies… spinnin’ vintage jazz LPs to keep my head alive/
 ECJ  morphs… and lives… in our own soulful eyes. Give me a holler give me a shout I’m talkin’ what’s It all about/ Want to be hip? Want to be in the know? Then listen late at night, and let the jazz sounds flow.
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Denominations

The fragrance of possums is a kit of great virtue bathed and lit by an orange green hue. Display not weapons in weather fuelled skies. Thin thunder is unwelcome in a booming bass rhythm and rhyming slang is only to be used by mice and squirrels on rainy days. So, raise ones tail then and fly to many moons. Always use an angle of sixty-two degrees as cloud beams cause much turbulence to the greatest of wing span. So cease to arrive in long lost kitchens and bathrooms of yesteryear. Instead write in the airwaves a plan to bring justice. Place brassieres' on elephants and negligées in tigers and never fail to sustain the breath of farmlands fir they are breeding grounds for mud. Always be wise to the facts of bridges. Bridges are very intelligent and intelligences can often be said to be artificial sliding doors in a wilderness. Remaining open to eyes in a room and round and round is nice and pleasant. Placing ones aromatic and often erotically placed inner beast if peace to extract a great truth in a light beam. Gradually add ingredients over many many years then serve as soup. Tastefully done. Domestically derived during dripping. Finished with a bowl. Never cried an angelic antelope. Prefer to swirl in ancient field. In honour remain. In desperation a box could jump. Releasing many objects to appease and assist Gaia at this time of great peril. Dig not a pit. Spit not on a tree. Speak not of notes to a very small rodent. As teeth are two faced belts with large bellies. Place a great offering to the silver wishing tree. Yahweh laughs hahahaha. Misted emotions now clear. Windscreen wipers of the mind. Cataclysm of faiths. Duty bound solicitation of souls. In a drip drop haven. Heaping tablespoons of jam at the cardinal buffet is just not acceptable. Many a casserole formed from pumpkins. Many a bean in a pipe. And legs of bacon spread with buttery secretions is very very imaginative and animations of swans dancing in cinemas is often misplaced adjustment setting in remote controlled handsets. Journeys. Jiving. Jalapenos. Jalapa's. Jizzum. Jazz. Justic. Jurisdiction. Jollup. *** cantering. Charismatic. Churches. Chopping choosing chips. *** potency. Fishforks. Placed *** denominations ***
Form:

Endurance

Endurance:
Keep changing perspective; 
If only to combat the dwindling light~
Each droplet of
tear from me shall shine,
My beauty
shall stand tall,
I shall bloom
 to the happiness of those I love,
And my love shall stay the same
Until I fall.
My heart searches the airwaves for an answer...
Feeling for a pulse, 
For a bead of life.
Tired and torn, 
My understandings shatter like glass...
Teardrops line the cracks and gaps
That exist between the fragments 
Of my scuffed and scattered mind.
Memories dance like a rogue sunbeam 
Sparkling on the sequins of my blouse.
Like silver stars twinkling across a sea of Burberry carpet,
Flashes of inspiration capture my wandering eye.
A twist of thread lies on the floor before me;
Black and tangled,
Free and formless...
A stark contradiction to my carefully catalogued 
Collections of thought.
I somehow awoke to this nightmare:
A kingdom of sorrow 
Where fear has become the patriarch.
Enslaved by my base desires,
Steel bars of ignorance brandish the cells 
Of my caged and captive potential.
Every atom of my composure 
Becomes no more than a cruel trick of light,
A practiced sleight of hand...
A ruse that has become impenetrable,
Seamless and familiar;
Touching the darkest parts of the heart,
Caressing the ill begotten frills 
Of our utterly underdeveloped souls.
Yet, still, 
we endure.

The wheel turns,
The fire burns,
The spirit yearns,
The ashes gather
And fill the urns...
And Still,
We Endure.

Accepting
what we cannot
change
but giving space
to 
ourselves
boundaries
from
what hurts us
what is beyond
our endurance
to bear
Believe me, you deserved someone better
You are reborn from fire, from the light,
And light you become.
The darkness is repelled by your presence;
You have broken free of your deficiencies.
By conquering your demons,
You have proved yourself above the dark.
The blackness is trapped beneath your feet,
It can never control you again...
 Oh give thanks
unto the Lord
for He is good
and His mercies,
Oh yes
His mercies,
they never fail us
never.
His mercies
they
endure
forever
and ever
and
ever more.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran

Captain John Francis Dailey, Jr

His sister said to Johnny
“You’re going to go to war
The draft board called your number
They’ll be knocking on your door”
Johnny said “I don’t like marching
And I’ve never loved the sea
That only leaves one option
It’s the Army Air Corps for me”
So he dropped out of his college
And joined the Army Air Corps
He learned to be a pilot
And then he went to war
He was not a fighter pilot
He didn’t fly a jet
He piloted the transports
The biggest you could get
He was flying in the South Seas
When he met an Army nurse
Then something clicked inside him
It was love right from the first
They had to wait the war out
Till the Army nurse went home
They married in her hometown
Then the Air Corps made them roam
In October then of forty-six
They had themselves a daughter
In the Panama Canal Zone
Then he’s flying off over water
Then they lived in Puerto Rico
Where they had themselves a son
September then of forty-eight
They were proud of what they’d done
When they moved to Massachusetts
Johnny’s hometown state
He transferred to the Reserves
Still flying that airfreight
They had another daughter
January – Nineteen-fifty
They were settled into a quiet life
Till Korea got too shifty
Johnny said “I am a pilot
And I was born to fly
I’m going back to full time service
I belong up in the sky”
So he’s back up in his transports
In missions he did live
He said “I’ll do what I must do
And I’ll give all I can give”
In July of nineteen-fifty-one
Another daughter’s born
Then Johnny’s off and flying
His heartstrings all but torn
Then October of that same year
On a quiet home bound flight
Out among the Azores
His plane dropped out of sight
No activity in the area
No SOS last call
He said “I see the Azores”
That was it – that’s all
Despite a massive air search
The biggest one to date
Not a piece of plane or personnel
Nothing known yet of their fate
They searched the sea for weeks and weeks
The airwaves – this and that
He left behind a loving wife
Four kids, a dog, a cat.


Captain John Francis Dailey, Jr. USAF (1918-1951)
It was 60 years ago this October that we lost our Dad.  We never really got to know him but miss him just the same.

Mdailey	10/15/11
Form: Epic

Russian Roulette Is Our Safest Bet

This is a testament of time with a catchy little rhyme
A sign of all things that have come
The cracked dry wall calls with silence
It marks the final testing ground where I was found guilty
You sealed the deal with a kiss 

This is my greatest flaw
An appalling selection that you had your objections to  
My objectivity was to make you see what you do to me 
Was this all an illusion 
Was this fusion of hearts a mistake
So now we must walk the fire water lake 
Lets make this memorable 
A venerable battle of words
Let’s cut through the airwaves
Shall we proceed with this clash 
A punishment of a million lashes to the heart

So sweet sugar baby don’t you let me down 
I’m your loaded gun with a single round (Heart ache Bound)
Lets pound it out some more
Yeah we’re playing Russian roulette with a hair line trigger
I’m begging you to pull it 
We can’t fool it 
Just a bullet to our hearts

Leaving a stabbing pain the kind sustained in icy rain
You’ll be wearing these scars until you die as far as I can see
And I’ll be wearing this heart shaped bruise like a badge of honor
You’re my bombshell bomber
A heart throbber  
My pulse stopper 
A wraith with an exquisite taste 
For the one who amazed you 
The one who you blazed your name into

So sweet sugar baby don’t you let me down
Recall the love you once found 
A resounding hounding craving 
Who will be saving the mounting memories
I’m waiting for the final strike now 
Just bite down

Will this be endless sight 
I’m not quite sure what’s worse seeing you walk out the door
Crying together on the floor 
Swearing I’ll love you forevermore
I’m just not sure
Not sure of much any more
I don’t know who I’ve become 
I’ve hung your picture

This is my mixture of longing 
A dislodging and jogging of memories
So baby send me a card of loving word or blasphemy
Anything to let you know you remember me 
I hope you’re happy 
Found someone who supersedes 
So you no longer need me 
Like I know I need you 
No one can ever do me in like you 
And I can’t give away what isn’t mine anymore
It’s yours
Form:

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
Store
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter
Hide Ad