Long Lighter than air Poems
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In quiet anticipation, Daphne carefully sewed
tiny outfits of love for her soon to be child
with her soft braided hair and loose, faded clothes
Daphne sung lullabies, then stared off for awhile.
When her due date came, we wished Daphne well
for our small sewing circle was caring and kind
Daphne looked embarrassed, but was happy to tell
that she'd show us her baby at just the right time.
A few months later, sweet Daphne appeared
gently cradling her sleeping, angelic little girl
with a hushed adoration, we all drew near her
and beheld the most beautiful baby in the world.
When the ladies dispersed, I asked Daphne if I
could hold her new baby, I'd hold her with care
with a brief hesitation, she said, "Just a short while.”
her perfect, silicone baby was lighter than air.
I'm haunted each night by the ghost of a chance.
Softly she sings of forgotten romance.
And I lie awake just to watch her dance
In the moonlight from the window.
Appearing before me, impossibly fair.
An echo of memory, lighter than air.
And I cannot touch her, but she knows I'm there.
And if she cares, I don't know...
And I wish I could just forget.
But it hasn't happened to me yet.
Now here she comes, before me she stands
The ghost, the ghost of a chance...
I'm haunted each night by the ghost of a chance.
Softly she sings of forgotten romance.
And I long to hold her but I know that I can't...
5/14/2019
Epic Ethereal Editor Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
My dorm room was bright this morning. It was disorienting.
The sky outside was a cloudless, striking neon blue.
The air was so crisp and clean, I could hardly feel it going in and out.
It all sparked to create a diffused sense of well-being.
Gone, it seems, were the concrete bunker feels of winter.
There's been some loose talk of ‘spring’ lately—I thought it was fake news—but from my third floor lattice windows I could see what looked like people outside. They were walking in the sunshine, riding bikes, throwing frisbees, kicking ??hacky sacks, a couple was making out in the grass—it was a riot of activity.
Sunny skiffed out of her room (which looks like a hotel room trashed by some rock star), she seemed lighter than air. Three days ago, she announced there was someone of “particular personal significance,” in her life (translate: girlfriend).
Start the schmaltzy, string-drenched soundtrack—love is in the air.
Our challenge now is to carve out a poised and measured final act to our undergraduate years. There’s a scurrying, cynosure, beehive, hyperfocus to labs and classes, a heightened, almost cinematic quality, as if, up to now, we’ve only been practicing for some undefined ‘real thing.’
.
.
Songs for this:
Daylight by Harry Styles
Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing by Michael McDonald
Dizzy (feat. Alfie Templeman & Thomas Headon) by chloe moriondo
.
.
Skiffed = narrowly missed hitting someone
If your mountains should crumble
To the world's finest sand
If your oceans should run dry
And become arid land
If the weight of the world
Becomes too much to bear
May that weight become lighter
Much lighter than air
If your path should need straightened
Should you stumble and fall
I'll help lift you up
Help you walk and not crawl
If you feel all alone
In the busiest place
And the darkness of nightfall
Should cover your face
For deep in the distance
A light you shall see
You won't be alone
For that light will be me
Forever and ever
I'd do it again
I can't thank you enough
For being my friend
If love could be measured
..then science would have done it.
There would be a formula, an equation, Einstein would have published a paper.. but there is no measure.
Love is too fine, too vast, too varied, too intangible yet too real.
It's not a particle or a wavelength, it has no flavour or colour. It's lighter than air, yet heavy as stone.
It has the strength to move mountains but has fragile beauty like a butterfly.
It can chain you or set you free, be in one place or be everywhere.
It has nowhere it calls home yet it is home.
It can be challenged, discredited, abused but.. it is rooted in truth, doused in joy and bathed in purity.
Love can leave a seemingly unfillable space, an open wound, a longing, an ache, a sense of being lost.
But when love finds us; we realise we have been pursued, gathered, reclaimed, salvaged, restored and returned to being fulfilled beings.
Love is the answer and also the biggest question.
Love has been part of us all and we hope it will be written into our future, but when it appears in it's full glory, it is always more present in the now, in the current moment, more than at any other time.
Love may occasionally be fleeting, elusive and transient but it may nestle and burrow deep into our hearts to make a permanent residence.
Our hope is in enduring, faithful Love.
Sometimes Love burns brightly. Intensely.
Too bright to sustain, beautiful non-the-less.
Sometimes though, like a flame it flickers and dances, teasing it's shadowy light into the darkened room of our hearts.
Other times often frequently unrecognised, sometimes opaque, undercover.
Just a whisper in the ear.
A seemingly innocent gesture.
A smile. A glint in the eye of another.
A few insightful poetic words.
The warmth of a hand to hold..
Are all it takes to transform a human heart.
In those moments we are captured, unfractured, enraptured by Love forever.
Jinjagoliath
25th August 2023
On either side
Of a crowded family dinner table
There are signs of ambition and resentment
Success and failure
Marked by those who pass
The plate
And those who only take.
A lighter than air blimp
Floated
Lazy circles
High above a City
Of breadlines desperation
As New York struggled
Through the Great Depression.
Hank was tough
Self reliant and hungry
Eager to impress
He washed
And waxed
His uncle’s car
Calloused hands
Carefully caressing
The sleek curves
Of a 1938 V16 Caddy.
Catching his reflection
In the chrome grill work
He ignored
The rough lines
In his face
Focusing instead
On the money
And power behind
The car.
Wet sponge
Going up and down
The rich’s man car
Sweat pouring down his neck
Pails of water
Clanging an alarm
Under an August sun
Having never owned a car
Hank
Was dismayed
When the wax
Clouded
Up
In the summer heat.
Well dressed
Republican
Hands on hips
Uncle was upset
At what he saw
Incompetence
Was wasted time.
The sudsy water
Drained away
Any hopes of
Hank getting a job
In his uncle’s firm.
The Depression was a disaster
For some it came sooner
For Uncle it came later
Packing a surprise punch
That was catastrophic
Uncle lost everything.
The house
The fancy parties
And the ‘38 Caddy with dual spare tires mounted on each front
Gone for pennies on the dollar.
Ever resourceful
Hank got a job as a clerk
In the US Patent Office
One day
He realized
Beef and potatoes
On a modest clerk’s salary
Tasted better than Uncle’s lavish dinners
The seeds of disappointment
From that summer’s day
Occasionally came back
To remind him what was meant to be
Thinking of his red faced Uncle
In a starched shirt
On that hot August afternoon
Hank broke into a wide grin
And ordered another plate of beef stew.
The mind is a high flyer.
An altitude of any measure
allows it to breathe clearer.
The mind breathes you.
Close out this world
follow the song-cycles
of your land-locked
wind-blown lungs.
Let that singing soar,
let go of all tethers
ride that lighter than air wind
up, up, up.
Hold on to nothing
gravity has no asway upon you,
you can rise forever
dance over any gleaming universe.
Enter that 'cloud of unknowing'
that birthed you; deliver yourself
from all dust of thought
until joy and laugher
boosts you
into that radiant immensity
of inner space, there you arise
as a star that knows no roof, ceiling
nor end.
Her face
Her haunting eyes
The luscious red lips...
Shuffling midst leaves between his feet
Meandering emotions of desire
A fog in his head, swimming upstream
Then lifting, replaced by the pure heat of fire
Her soft auburn hair
The slope of her shoulders
The sway of her hips and her waist...
He plots his next move midst mounting fear
Would he ever whisper his passion in her ear
The rain poured down now, soaking his clothes
He'd ring her doorbell, give her that rose
Aloft in a mist
Lighter than air
A vision, enticing and fair...
He'd purchased the flower, shaved and showered
Hustled cross town, though late was the hour
Finger poised on her doorbell, his decision unmade ~
At the sight of two silhouettes intertwined on her shade
Body long gone
In a tomb on the hill side
Body long gone
In a tomb in the afterlife
Still a prison in afterlife
If you're living in fear
But the body's too dear
When you want to see clear
Relax to divine the hidden meaning
When you're head's on the stake
But your mind is awake
Sure you've made some mistakes
Relax you'll be fine
If it's all you can take
That your psyche might break
When you want to escape
Relax to divine the hidden meaning
But the world isn't there
It's the soul that we share
We feel lighter than air
Where God created life
There life must be*
*T-23.II.19:2
Form:
...... Here I fly ....
Do you know why
Have no reason to stay
Going home today
Lighter than air
Not a care
Cause I dare
Yesterday lies behind
Tomorrow is out of mind
What lies ahead
The love I will be fed
Flying foward
Ever towards
Past the horizon I go
It's all I know
Past the clouds in the sky
So high
.. I fly ...
A never ending flight
Beyond sight
Like a bird flying free
How that would be
Break earth's binding tie
So high
I dare to fly
... Set free ...
What wonders I see
Flying beyond tomorrow
Towards the land of no sorrow
Towards my new home waiting
Cause I didn't spend my time hating
My soul is now free to fly
Never to die
... No reason to cry ...
My wings are just carring me home
Done is my time to roam
Past what lies behind
Cause I know what I'll find
Peace of mind
So I fly
.... Ever so high ....