Long Airways Poems

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


Premium Member Thought Police

Thought Police

Be careful what you say, 
be careful who you say it to. 
It might be heard... 
by someone that does not like it!

They will come to your door, 
and even the score, 
even if there is no game
involved at all. 
They will just call, 
on you, that's who, 
even if you live at the zoo. 

Truth beaten up on the sidelines. 
Propaganda given an upper hand. 
Media stroking the boss... 
of the paper, 
the airways,
and the fairways, 
no longer fair at all. 

Criminals on the streets, 
let go for their crimes, 
to make room for more important...
lawbreakers, 
earth-shakers, 
and memory makers. 
Fearing their words, 
may yet have power, 
for even an hour. 
 
Those that do not go along, 
with the climate change agenda, 
and will not take the shot, 
or get the clout 
or rub on each other 
to get the pox, 
like a fox... (in heat)
will be dealt with in the darkness
of powers at their central station.
The moon is full of men, 
that have given their lives over, 
to cover the reality, 
we live in. 

The rationing of water, 
then food, and gas, 
only the beginning... 
of the end. 

We will all go without, 
but don't shout.
Be quiet and accept what is ahead, 
the dread enough to fill 
the voting ballot box
full of hope... 
or treason?
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Reel'ing'

Into the edge of adrift
time shrinks as the glowing
spectrum pans and shifts
i want to feel friendly with
the screen again
i want to feel the fuzzy static
embrace me
like arms made of out dozens
of freshly hatched chickadees
warm around my chest
like jet addled water 
outside the leaves flutter
like channels in the airways
its getting dark earlier in the day
i want to like watching movies
again
so i watch them more than once
it feels like sin, like a scratch on a disc
skipping through limited screentime
just to reconnect 
with actors and good direction
i don't want to turn it off but yet i
see the faint gloam of my own reflection

Premium Member A Wicked Sense of Humour

“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Someone recently chided
Twisting what seem like serious events
Into silliness quite one sided

That's why I'm here to lighten things up
Adding sunshine to the group
From the great responses coming my way
It seems everyone's happy as poop

It's a real tough job but someone's gotta do it
To counter the doom and gloom
That permeates the airways every day
Whisking them away with my broom

A broom of happiness of very good cheer
Coz life's a very short trip
Just live love and laugh at the world
With a happy-go-lucky skip

“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Had it since I was a young'un
Now decrepit but still chuckling away
Every day is for funnin'
fun
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Bag

I've let it slip
I've lost my grip,
I had it yesterday
I had better find it
Before it gets away

It was a firm grip
One I was so proud to own
How could I let it slip
Now it's all alone

What will I do without it?
I am sure I do not know,
I had it at the airport
Where did that travel bag go?

Get a grip on yourself,
All will be alright.
An airways attendant
Said it was already on the plane,
waiting for the flight.

I am travelling to Tasmania
To see my eldest son,
I may arrive in Pennsylvania,
That will be lots of fun

I have had enough today,
Although looking forward to this trip
Once I board the plane,
I will be able to get a grip!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member We Are Marshall

Southern Airways Flight 932
November 14, the night they flew
McDonnell Douglas DC-9
Like all flights, they should be fine
 
On the return home
They clipped some tree's
The final run
From Greenville,NC
 
37 players
In all, 75
From this tragedy
None survived
 
This Thundering Herd
Taken in their prime
Coaches and others
Before their time
 
But We Are Marshall
Would rise again
To take away
This terrible pain
 
From a point of closure
They reunite
To carry the lost
In their football right
 
Jack Lengyel
Appointed coach
With Red Dawson
Through Dedmans approach
 
Young Thundering Herd
First game lost 
29 - 6
Experience cost
 
First post win
Against Xavier
15 - 13
Calms despair
 
In 1974
Jack Lengyel leaves
But, We Are Marshall
We quietly grieve

" Dedicated to the Thundering Herd Football Team from Marshall University-West Virginia
                               and Mr Arthur D. Schwarz, a fervent football fan "
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member A Wicked Sense of Humour

“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Someone recently chided
Twisting what seem like serious events
Into silliness quite one sided

That's why I'm here to lighten things up
Adding sunshine to the group
From the great responses coming my way
It seems everyone's happy as poop

It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it
To counter the doom and gloom
That permeates the airways every day
Whisking them away with my broom

A broom of happiness of very good cheer
Coz life's a very short trip
Just live love and laugh at the world
With a happy-go-lucky skip

“You have a wicked sense of humour”
Had it since I was a young'un
Now decrepit but still chuckling away
Every day is for funnin'
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member YOU COSMIC POETIC BUTTERFLY

You Cosmic Poetic Butterfly

When your mind—
The c   o   c   o   o   n
Of your spirit—
Re
      lea
               ses,
With your essence
Of healing words,
                             Let the rhythmic 
                             Wings of your being,
                             Soar you—
Streamlining 
                      Airways 
                                    Of life—
Of graceful
Liberation,
                           To those cosmic beings 
                           In the universe of life:

 Awaiting its
 Hydrating
Oxidation
                                       Of the
                Onederful 
                Onement 
                                    Of the
                Oneness 
                                  Of your
                Ondering 
                                Peace          
                                           And
                                                   Love.

Untitled

I woke to you exploring my coastline
finger tracing every hidden, jutted stone
weathered wood
and whipping titanium grass

 
Your muffled voice in the dark
filling up the creaking tide pools
in india ink
careless and velvet

 
I find I can only proceed
when it is accidentally breathed in
By muttering into your mouth
words that feel full like marbles, such as:

 
'I don’t want to say I love you any more'
And so, You flitted in the dark, like a feathery moth
For one singular moment
until I was fairly sure that you were dead

 
You once told me that you used to fear
I would explode like a firecracker in your hand
Leave you stranded
in gas station bathrooms with leaky mirrors.

 
Forget to pack your lunch before bed
Slip you words into your pocket
That linger sourly all the day
I'll even forget to write the Christmas cards on time

 
Faithfully, I remind you 
of the fast filling swimming lessons in turquoise green
The abrasive pad of your finger sending me drifting-
though I am tethered hundreds of thousand years beneath  

 
You wake me instead from starry night dreams
the sound of coffee pots brewing 
pushing open the airways in my lungs, taking hold
to root themselves in clay instead of dream.
Form: Quatrain

God Is the Best

GOD IS THE BEST:

(VERSE 1)
Sorrow that I'd trade,
You're changing all my fate.
Strength that I'd prayed,
You've fulfilled all my aim.
I'm giving up my vain things...
Such giving up my vain things.

Wrongs that I've made,
You've taken all my shame,
Troubles that I'd faced,
I'm saved by your grace.
I'm really happy for your great things.
God, I really appreciate your great things.

(CHORUS)
God is the best,
Clearing all my blustery days,
Holding all my trust.
I'm treading now,
God on my side,
Greatness on the airways,
ooooooh, already.

God is the best,
Clearing all your blustery days,
Hold all your trust.
You treading now,
God on your side,
Greatness on the airways,
ooooooh, already.

God is the best,
Clearing all our blustery days,
Holding all our trust.
We treading now,
God on our side,
Greatness on the airways,
ooooooh, already.


(VERSE 2)
Christ in me,
The hope that I have.
Christ in you, 
The hope that you have.
We singing all the praise to God,
We giving all the praise to God.

All this while,
Was far from the truth.
All this while,
Was lost and confused.
We really saved by the grace of God,
We really saved by the grace of God.

CHORUS :
God is the best,
Clearing all my blustery days,
Holding all my trust.
I'm treading now,
God on my side,
Greatness on the airways,
ooooooh, already.

God is the best,
Clearing all your blustery days,
Holding all your trust.
You treading now,
God on your side,
Greatness on the airways,
ooooooh, already.

God is the best,
Clearing all our blustery days,
Holding all our trust.
We treading now,
God on our side,
Greatness on the airways,
ooooooh, already.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member End of the World


1
I slow the chevy
then stop.
I turn around
and look back.
There, behind the bedroom window,
behind a lacy white curtain,
I see a figure,
a face,
a waving hand,
an old ghost
from a crinkled black and white,
arisen to meet me again,
kiss me again in this darkness,
returning to haunt
my matchboxes and combs,
the pretty Mexican girl
with the black medusa tresses;
She that licked my lips
when pressed against hers;
That is no ghost, or is it?
Let me squint these sated eyes
and double check.
I see the slicker girl of 17 years
dressed in ’69 day-glow
That’s her.
It’s not real. Never

2
Red girly fingernails
tapping the chevy seat,
always adjusting, turning
dark brown pantyhose,
and the radio,
always planning and conniving
a quick insecure glance
at a perfumed compact.
She opens her purse widely
retrieving the white slicker tube;
Then come the rituals
of lips and tongues and
sweetened spit ensuing there,
‘Hey Jude’ finding an angular perch
behind them.

3
“Is the door locked?”
Waves of Groucho
on a Magnavox console
emanating towards us
from the next room over
you and me are naked
beneath the whites
ridden in adolescent stains
squirming under the cracks
of raw unfiltered listening
to Pink Floyd smearing alive
the preposterous universe
using Moog synthesizer knives
as Janis from west Texas
sprawls on a ironing board
firmly positioned and plied
She rides the fast horse
two slippery hours ablaze
“Honey, could you turn the dial?”


4
Bill Balance slings eggs and
the Feminine Forum at 3,
riding the waxy airways
with staticky plumes
This dead disc-jockey is
breathing heavily again
into a ghostly microphone.
“Hey Alice, are you a married girl?
Do you have a nice body?
Do you have charging rhino haunches?”

5
“Come inside now.
Hide under these columns,
These stones of plastic marble,
As the world finally ends,
Finally trembles in the sinking sand.
Who knew? Right?
Joke’s on us, but honestly,
We all knew it was coming,
Hopefully later, but coming.
Who knew it would happen
Like this?“

I slow the chevy
Then stop.

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