Long Flying Poems
Long Flying Poems. Below are the most popular long Flying by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flying poems by poem length and keyword.
There was one midnight hour when I stood alone
beyond my bed, in the shadowed room
I was the child in the white flannel gown
watching a white moth fly and a white moon rise
The family slept..except for me
They never heard creaks in the wooden floor
or the squeak of the hinge on the old screen door
I climbed down the steps into the fresh night air
and was swallowed deep in the sequined sky
Something was whispering, from beyond the hedge
murmuring words, as a prayer, unsaid
Yet, I knew it was cunning, I knew it was wise
Temptation enticed me to follow the sound
It spoke with the drum of the cricket's thunder
I stood under the canopy of a million stars
Without hesitation, or a fear, unknown
Lit by the bleach of the crescent moon
I knew in the moment, I was not alone
The fragrance of jasmine, was caught in the breeze
flying swift as a dove, to comfort me
It picked me up, far off the grass
Where I could see beyond the past
Back in my room, tucked into the sheets
Watching a white moth fly, and the white moon leave
-----------------------------
I looked through the eyes of a dying wolf
to see fires flaming out our horizon
as long as this wild wolf had seen.
He saw a time
when seizures
were currencies of sorcerors,
shamen and shawomen
born of supremely loving matriarchs.
Seizure medicine knew its own advent
echoing sources speaking dreams of manna geese
flying home for our first through last
Win/Win Thanksgiving Day
through fire extinguishing night.
Thanksgiving Peace Dreams
after fires and erupting volcanoes
of seizures,
and also before peace dreams of hope-fired relationships,
responsible as authoritative Win/Win faith,
respect for powers of multiculturing love
over monoculturing fears
of fires for volcanoed hate
of gun-fires flaming out horizons.
I looked through the eyes of a not yet dead wolf
to see fires of restorative justice
for Thanksgiving Days and Nights of Peace
sweeping all Win/Win full-fired horizons
of Wonder as Sacred Flaming Awe.
Angels sing
By Michelle Morris
04/10/2022
When I died, my soul rose up
Up, up, up and away to Heaven
I looked back and saw my body
Lying there on the bed
It looked so foreign to me
The shell that once housed my soul
But the angel that came to fetch me
Gave comfort to my shock
The angels sing my name
They welcome me home again
The choirs of celestial beings
Help let us all be redeemed
The angels sing hallelujah
To glory to God on high
He has welcome me home
His grace and mercy shine
My friends on Earth left crying
Saddened by my demise
They shared so many memories
I sat with my angel and cried
The mourners stood around
That grave so grey and solemn
White doves flying free
No good memory forgotten
The angels sing my name
They welcome me home again
The choirs of celestial beings
Help let us all be redeemed
The angels sing hallelujah
To glory to God on high
He has welcome me home
His grace and mercy shine
And now here I am in Heaven
At peace and filled with love
God and His angels help me
Each day to carry on
For my loved ones miss me so
They think about me every day
I feel that bond of love, and
I'll see them again in time
The angels sing my name
They welcome me home again
The choirs of celestial beings
Help let us all be redeemed
The angels sing hallelujah
To glory to God on high
He has welcome me home
His grace and mercy shine
© Michelle Morris, 2022
Standing on a crag
Frozen against the storm
Wrap another layer on
Rain biting through me
Throwing coins to the waves
Trading hope for affection
Thunder without lightning
Blind on wet rocks
You pull up alongside me
Drawing back the clouds
Peeling off the wet layers
Baring my skin to the Sun
Taking me below decks
Holding me while I shiver
Safe and warm in your embrace
Melting into your beauty
I had prayed
For the waves to snatch me
Take me beneath their black peaks
Bury me on the seafloor
Now I dream of flying
Above the sea
Lighter than air itself
Straight into your heart
One day the world
Started spinning fast round
Becoming a blur
Laying tall buildings down
What wasn't nailed tight
Flew off in the sky
People were ducking
With cows flying by
The dog on the corner
Barked his last bark
With tail between legs
He shot for the stars
The cat that watched this
Meowed with delight
Until he lost all
9 lives in mid-flight
All the empty cans
Along with broken glass
Paper, plastic
And all other trash
Stuff that never made it
Out to the dump
Went flying past fast
In one big ugly chunk
A rather strange scene
If you know what I mean
One minute it's here
The next history
Those left behind
Held tight in the breeze
Those that had time
Glued themselves to their seats
As fast as it came
It slowed down the same
All went back to normal
The way things had been
With less clutter around
To get in the way
I guess the world just needed
A good cleaning that day...
She whispers, “Can you feel the love tonight?”
“Yes, we all fall in love sometimes”, I said.
“It looks like someone saved my life tonight,
Don’t let the sun go down on me” I pled.
“Yes, we all fall in love sometimes”, I said.
“My lady, what’s tomorrow? Are we friends?
Don’t let the sun go down on me”, I pled.
Who knew that harmony so quickly ends.
“My lady, what’s tomorrow? Are we friends?
Alas, this tiny dancer danced away.
Who knew that harmony so quickly ends?
My candle in the wind went cold that day.
Alas, this tiny dancer danced away.
Now skyline pigeon’s a high flying bird.
My candle in the wind went cold that day
For sorry seems to be the hardest word.
Now skyline pigeon’s a high flying bird,
“I think I'm going to kill myself”, I cry.
For sorry seems to be the hardest word -
My little Jeannie’s with some other guy
“I think I'm going to kill myself”, I cry,
Her blue eyes were the hardest thing to lose.
My little Jeannie’s with some other guy,
So I guess that’s why they call it the blues.
Her blue eyes were the hardest thing to lose
Sing me them blues, ‘cos sad songs say so much.
So I guess that’s why they call it the blues -
I miss her love song and I miss her touch.
Sing me them blues, ‘cos sad songs say so much
Some circle of life mysteries bestowed
I miss her love song and I miss her touch
She hears me sigh, “Goodbye, yellow brick road”
Some circle of life mysteries bestowed -
It looks like someone saved my life tonight:
She hears me sigh, “Goodbye, yellow brick road”
She whispers, “Can you feel the love tonight?”
29 May 2016
John Watt
A pantoum using song titles. Below are 20 song titles by Elton John that were used in the poem:
Blue Eyes
Can You Feel The Love Tonight
Candle In The Wind
Circle of Life
Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me
Friends
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Harmony
High Flying Bird
I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues
I Think I'm Going To Kill Myself
Lady, What's Tomorrow?
Little Jeannie
Love Song
Sad Songs Say So Much
Skyline Pigeon
Someone Saved My Life Tonight
Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word
Tiny Dancer
We All Fall in Love Sometimes
The Blackpool donkeys have given up,
they have boarded jumbo jets
as emotional support animals.
Once they used to plod between
the Blackpool piers
half a mile up, half a mile back,
day after day,
carrying whooping kids and adults
as they heavily jogged along;
fat thighs clapping sore ribs.
In a dulled daydream the donkeys moved
with downcast eyes,
backs spavined from gleeful bums and knees.
When they could carry no more -
they were trucked away
to be neglected unto death.
Now the donkeys,
when not flying business class,
surfboard in Hawaii,
their Bermuda shorts billow
as if tailored for four-legs.
Those that once rode them
on that uncultured English beach,
now take river cruises
to the more refined European cities
never wishing to see a donkey,
but if they should come across one
I hope that for a moment
they feel a knobby spine
again bruising those broad buttocks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
https://www.blackpoolgazette.co.uk/news/abused-donkeys-not-licensed-work-blackpools-beaches-572591
Beauty, Love and Peace
Beauty appears to be,
In serene mood sometimes,
Spreading the peace in mind
Beyond horizons, limits and time.
Peace is really such a wonderful state,
Which enhance our mind and soul, and
It makes us feel the joy of love and mirth,
Influencing, our mind, heart and soul sublime,
Which exist only otherwise, in that supreme being.
Beauty takes us further and even beyond further,
Amid the lofty heights, where love opens it wings,
Where cool breeze blows to touch our mind,
Where pleasure refresh our heart and feelings,
Music and songs further take our souls,
In a world of delight, so beautiful, so sublime,
While flying and floating high in the sky.
When peace reaches it's ultimate,
It yields the fruit of love,
Compassion and kindness,
Then burst like buds,
In every happy and serene mind,
A Godly quality began to reflect,
In every act of a cool mind.
Beauty when get mingled,
With the sparks of love,
It bring the hearts and bind,
So close and so loving, that bodies and beatings,
Become one amid the ecstasies of loving minds.
Nothing can reach here, nothing can disturb,
Nothing can explain the beauty of love,
Here the beauty even gets a new definition,
It no more remains the beauty of body,
It becomes the beauty of our being.
Beauty dwells in every heart and mind,
But very seldom reaches that stage,
Where it become an inner decoration,
Instead of a thing of vanity and pride.
Ravindra
Kanpur 19th May 2012
Inspired by Joann Grisetti’s poem
NOTE : To have the views and comments on these vital petals of life and poetry I have placed a Blog also on Poetry Soup on 19th May as "How you consider Beauty leads to Love and Love leads to Peace". The Blog is receiving most beautiful ideas from the pens of many of my most learned friends and philosophers on Poetry Soup.
The summer day I stood outside
And lifted my face to the sky,
Turned my face to the sun,
Without fear of consequence;
The busy December morning
I ran through the snowstorm,
Laden with packages
And stopped to feel
Snowflakes melting on my cheeks;
The morning I heard music
From the car stopped next to mine
At a red light,
And sang along;
The crisp fall day
I saw a clean V of geese
Flying southwards
And stopped to watch ‘til they disappeared;
The dawning realization:
I was free to give up control's illusion,
I was free to veer off my chosen path,
I was free to be random.
Random:
Total immersion and surrender
Into something unplanned;
As close to flying
As is humanly possible.
[‘random’, from Old French, 'randir', to gallop,
as in the moment a horse at full speed has all four hooves off the ground.]
Elysian fields long since embraced dada's soul
which rocketed into aerospace
(courtesy General Electric satellite)
just a tad more'n eighteen plus months ago,
nevertheless melancholy
still plucks mine heart strings.
Mine psyche still situated awry
placid countenance of yours truly doth belie
residual sadness easily prompted
can easily trigger me to cry
linkedin when grim reaper gloated
October 7th, 2020
ye did somewhat peacefully die
though methinks immortality
I did briefly espy,
when miracles of modern medicine
tried, but could not
stave off mortality nor fortify
depredations of aging concerning
one wunderkind whose accomplishments
laudatory when a young handsome guy,
whose intelligence scored high
native talent aptitude tests did imply.
The late Boyce Brandon Harris
exhibited prolific talents at young age
aside being scholastically gifted,
acquiring graduate degree
courtesy Columbia University,
freshly minted mechanical engineer
(he admirably ranked within
uppermost percentile academically),
I hashtag thy mine deceased father
(a polymath - jack-of-all-trades),
who possessed (née excelled)
at diverse creative abilities.
Aside from being schooled
as mechanical engineer,
(which courses in mathematics and science
he passed with flying colors)
his mind genetically bequeathed
to craft almost anything under the sun
evidenced first by yours truly,
the second offspring and sole son
who ofttimes felt intimidated
at being in presence
of said Renaissance man.
Handicrafts included
expending blood, sweat, and tears
to craft multitude of projects;
i. building me Flintstone (foot powered)
car with wooden license plate.
ii. making playhouse for all three
of us - his progeny.
iii. amassing wood pile(s),
to stoke wood burning stoves
iv. designing Zayda trail for Teddy and Ruff
(two doggone mixed breed Border Collies
rescued courtesy youngest sister
at her Jacobsburg, Penna work site)
v. constructing sauna in cellar,