Long Flying carpet Poems
Long Flying carpet Poems. Below are the most popular long Flying carpet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flying carpet poems by poem length and keyword.
There's simply
No magic in life!
Yeah, there's no
magic password "Open Sesame"
Nor an Aladdin's magic lamp,
There's no Midas touch
Nor any Philosopher's Stone,
There's no crystal ball
No magic wand
No flying carpet
Nor a magic mirror;
There's no magic mantra
Nor an Aesculapius' Staff,
No Atlantis,
No Holy Grail,
No Elixir or Ambrosia,
And, no Heaven or Hell;
There will neither be
A Kingdom of Heaven on earth,
Nor an afterlife Paradise!
Beseech not
the hand of Lady Luck
Nor pin your hopes
on that pot of gold,
Do not embark on a voyage
seeking the Treasure Island,
Nor venture out to find
the fabulous Eldorado.
In the sweat of his face
Man will eat his bread
until into the ground
forever he is laid,
For he is born of dust
And unto dust he'll return!
When you wonder why I soar beyond the sky,
Feel free to inquire and a secret will be told.
It’s a mystery to me but I’ll give it a try,
And unfold for you a story that’s ages old.
Two score years ago did a magic carpet emerge,
And Metro was the name its weaver chose.
So now I go anyplace that my heart has the urge,
Even up high as the sun to see how the world arose.
I can circle the moon eating icy clouds with a spoon;
Stars I can hold like glowing diamonds in my fingers.
But still the sky begins to darken way too soon,
When the day is done and the night looms and lingers.
Nevertheless there’s fun in the light of the moon,
As my flying carpet goes circling above Katmandu.
I’m loving every twinkling of this charming boon,
As I dream of new wonders and worlds to woo.
Oh! beloved how scared i was,
the risk of losing you to invisible enemy,
a creature with no anima and heart.
An unknown, undefeatable enemy, pounding on you when you had no armour, no vicious sword.
Trying to reach you, almost desperate, no hope to light my heart,
You alone in the hospital bed, while i was sobbing miles apart.
No flying carpet, no fairy tale magic, a real world morbid with death and loss.
But oh my sweet how hard you fought,
indeed a lioness at heart!
Me, caged inside four cold walls, hands with sanetizer, face with masks,
incomplete without symphony of your laugh.
In extreme agony, this is how my few days passed.
Streets again lively, grandma with her dog, gardens filled with restrained joy, eyes shadowed with unexpected loss.
With grim determination, i paved my path, holding the fragile festoon of faith.
Finally, the painful journey ended, my destination before my eyes, stained windows shading you, door opened you came running, into my arms.
Sunken cheeks, hollowed eyes, Oh love how beautiful you were to my parched eyes!
-1/6/2021
I might have seen,
(not on a movie or television screen),
but had looked where the mind flickers
when I am not there
to block the view.
In that place, where my dreams
see through a darkling glass,
skins and organs put on new clothes,
mind-bones structure the unfinished scaffolding
of forgotten lives.
Life-stories just threads in a flying carpet,
a legend for a Navaho shaman
to drape about his shoulders.
Perhaps reincarnation is a book of dreams
for insomniacs.
I watch for facets in a prism,
each one is cut into a hundred views,
a casting of what was or could be.
There are names and places,
all sorts of leasing’s
destined to always by-pass each other
until all arrive as one
in one multifaceted picture.
Those faces mean nothing much
until the mirror reveals your eyes watching,
as if you had just walked
through a door in a mega-mansion
you helped build.
Story
I pull the dusty well-worn tome
Down from the high shelf in my home
Now blow and scatter all the flecks
As children gather, craning necks..
Anticipation glistens in their eyes
As if a fairground vendor's prize
Is handed down from garish stall
This gift of words that will enthrall
And so to start..
What wonders can this tale impart?
Adventures, battles, dragons, princes?
Escapes from death, to catch our breath
And calls so close the audience winces
A story captures imagination.
Thus passed to friend, then tribe, then nation
Courageous is the human trait
That shines against the odds of fate
Struggles through the moonlight quest
To strengthen, sharpen. To be the best.
A faithful steed to clamber hills..
A trusty blade to fight windmills
Fantastic creatures of the night
That snap and snarl, at ankles, bite
Testing all the pure resolve
To overcome. And puzzles solve.
And in this tale all play their part
Even though a darkened heart
Obstructs and hinders.
Like midnight chimes for fleeing Cinders.
But this, no magic Disney book
No stereotypical pirate Hook.
No flying carpet. No dancing bear.
Yet something special lingers there..
The truth revealed eventually;
Persistence beats adversity
With faithful steps and trusted sword
The sharpness of the purest Word
A wonderous tale to light the eyes;
Giants, snakes, kings and spies,
Angels, villains, light and colour
A story like you've heard no other
So pass to daughters, siblings, sons
This truth the light of many suns
For every generation reaches
Out for Hope this volume teaches
So search the book shelf, reach from high
Prepare to laugh, prepare to cry
Uncover truth of One so bold.
The greatest story ever told.
Jinjagoliath
29th March 2021
I am so very bored with virus I must say
The only thing I want is to go out and play
An atheist myself I even learnt about to pray
Minimalist isolation has become my lonely way
I am a haystack with no needle left in disarray
Descartes says doubt and think and then you are
Plato delves into a cave and looks at shadows far
Freud by the couch puffs on his twenty first cigar
Sartre's existence before essence only seems bizarre
When all that's left appears to be to stare at walls
Jerusalem Jericho China Mexico and no shopping malls
The bricks stand firm and my resilience slowly falls
The flying carpet of my fantasy is upside down and out
Rooftops are closed and therefore I cannot even shout
Confinement slices my emotions like a wicked reaper
Even procrastination does not suffice to make my day
Its difficult to notice feathers underneath the viscous tar
Hung and quartered dark moods proceed as evening calls
A hermit's plight's loincloth draped on my body getting stout
Time to reconsider my dream of working as lighthouse keeper
06th April 2020
Minuetta Poems Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Ailing and feeble,
She knew,
She hadn’t much time to stay,
She knew,
Her end of days drew closer,
Closer than she ever thought,
She would love to see him for the last time,
She would want to tell him what
she had kept in her closet these years,
Tears streamed down her eyes
as she wrote him a letter,
She wished a flying carpet would
take her across the ocean to meet him,
She wished none but him holding her hand
when the night chariot came for her,
She slid the letter in a bottle
and threw it in the ocean,
It moved in rhythmic flow as it sailed away,
A letter from yesterday evening,
She sent to its recipient at dawn,
The ways of the water none can predict,
The ways of the water none can foretell,
Only the Lord of time and seasons
has its chapters and verses before him,
It eventually arrived at its destination,
Only it was a few years too late,
For she had long gone,
Only her grave stood as a memorial.
March 10, 2022.