Long Runways Poems

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


Salvation

Salvation 

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you believe in absorbing esoteric supernatural impressions 

To clear your pathways
Of all mental or traumatic depression's

To then walk down life's  metaphysical runways

Like a young Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel or an inspired

Paul Poiret

If so
Because I believe 
In you

Always be optimistic and open to being positive when exploring newer experiences

For true belief
Lies in the right mindset in all you do

To transform your soul into your best version of a sage or mystic

Allowing you to chase stars and wild Middle Earth dreams

To bind old mistakes and fears
To white metaphorical feathers 

To throw them into the healing fires within your mind

For their old powers over you 

In the unconscious rising smoke retire

As you learn which new bridges to cross

And which old bridges to burn

For sacred self-knowledge and empowerment is ubiquitous 

A chimera

A conjunction of wild beasts
Roaming wild

Living life through 
Eight letters called Salvation

Which to the child of the Revived

Like you
Cannot never ever be denied

(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Ill-Fated Model

There was a young man called Alec, who always dreamed to be a top model
Front cover of reknown worldwide magazines was his most ardent desire
Modeling men fashion apparel and clothes in the most prestigious runways
Until one day, the life of the promising model changed forever in minutes

Alec tried for first time unlawful sustances to calm down stressed nerves
Destroying the brilliant career and personal life, ending in a human rag
Deambulating and sleeping in the streets, after losing his immense wealth 
Finding death, after an overdosage of opioids, ending in an unknown









6-2-2016

Premium Member Real Christmas

The Real Christmas


From Black Friday to Christmas Eve,
presents to purchase and wrap. 
Office and family parties, visits to relatives
platters of food and gallons of alcohol.
Trees dressed to the nines in dangling baubles
and twinkling lights.
Continuous Christmas carols blaring from radios
and loud speakers.
Wreaths and decorations to adorn tables,
night stands, credenzas, book shelves.
Lights hung in strings so large that rows
of houses look like runways for planes.
Inflatable Santas, snowmen, reindeer and nutcrackers
compete for space in yards.
Nativities, pageants, plays special music
consume congregations.

Is this the real Christmas?
Or perhaps it is-
A silent night, two thousand years ago
in a dimly lit cave.

A babe wrapped in woolen clothes
lying in a sheep’s feeding trough.
Only shepherds and loving parents
in attendance.
An infant destined to change history.
The future savior of the world.

And the Dance Shall Lead

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from 
The father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning"
                                                                                    ....James 1:17

                    AND THE DANCE SHALL LEAD...

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the
      Whole staircase"....Martin Luther King

In the beginning when some said no! God said yes!
For you are chosen, a creation of God's best.
A mother who holds down the team with two angels
putting their contributions towards the American Dream, and
the father who completes his obligations to the world and to
his family, which was the winning formula that guaranteed his
place into the presidency.

"We are not makers of History, We are made of history"....Martin Luther King

And as the both of you held hands, taking your walk together, you began to
Lead the parade of "Change" paving the way for a new new day on the Inauguration...
Fallen Tears, Screams and Cheers are now recorded.
For a new style of change has now hit the runways with God's blessing.
Beaming the light of promise to be passed down to the next generation...

"Love is the only force, Capable of transforming an enemy into a friend"
                                      ...Martin Luther King

And from the heaven's he sings his predictions to your song.
For you have Changed America by bringing us "all together" at last...
For no matter the color we are all one and we will band forever...
Dedicated to President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama

"I just want to do God's will. And he's allowed me to go to the mountain.
And I've looked over, and I've seen the promise land! And I've seen the promised Land!
I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we 
As a people will get to the promised Land"...Martin Luther King
                                                                      The End!!!

This poem was given to President Barack Obama...

Premium Member Nocturnal Cravings

I'll sit on the roof and watch the moon
I'll swallow the pain 
And let my tears flow!

I'll pretend there is a violin with me
I'll pretend that the moon dances
As I play the saddest tunes ever
Merely because the creepers creeping out
Of my heart have become weak,
Ready to wilt and dry up
As lost in love,
I choose to hold on tight to the mysticism
That guides me on my way!

I'll pretend that I am the only one to glow
In Love's warmth,
That like me, the needy tugs tugging at him
Have become urgent
As urgent as a life to be saved 
As urgent as greens which are to blossom
As urgent as is the cause of finding a way
To save the life forms of Earth before doom strikes!

I'll sit on the roof and watch stars
I'll try to tell myself that both Love and I
Will strive hard to make our way back there
To where it all has a meaning!

I'll tell myself that Love is that which is needed
To allow humanity to keep on rolling
I'll pretend that all around me
I see its genuine essence instead of the selfishness
And the sinful hue
That has invaded it!

I'll dream, wide awake of those dreams I've had
Those dreams which had spelled out loud and clear
That my soul belongs to my chosen lover
That together, tangled in a bond, we shall be saved
From the murky swamps in which we are treading
But which we perceive as being solid runways for our planes!

I'll sit, till the cold envelops my senses
Till my nose starts running
Till my voice gets hoarse
Till my eyelids droop, worn and spent
I'll sit and shed off my vanity, my pride, my ideals,
I'll tear them off and burn them
Till shall remain of me, 
A maiden, a lost soul, frail and too weak to even whisper
Needing the strength of that chosen love,
Love which has been thrust upon me
By the Goddess watching over me!
I'll sit and wait for the warm embrace of it
An embrace which shall last as long as Existence would want
And which would allow me
To fill my pen with my tears
And to write
Of it all, 
To be left as a memento of how beautiful Love can be
In a hopeless world!


Ironic

The  city is dotted in little wooded sanctuaries. One on the corner of Forsyth and Luckie, a pair of twins on Hill St. If you’re lucky sometimes you can glimpse a group of four or more. I know of one but that’s a well kept secret, you’ll have to find it on your own. 
I’m not entirely sure who planted these little arbor islands. I would imagine the people who paved gray runways and built buildings of burnt brick and spotted marble placed a few in a moment of guilt, built up stone by stone until the weight became too heavy to bear. So they brought a few strong trees back into the concrete mire.  
You have to admire their wooden resolution though, they persevere in their 4x4 plots of land filled with intractable mulch, dry, hard dirt and a layer of plastic and styrofoam topsoil. Their branches scrape the second story windows, their emaciated fingers attempt to push through grout and stone. They reach with eager, upturned palms for open air. 
I was admiring the white, spring blooms today when men came with silver spears and saw-tooth blades to trim the branches on DeKalb. The tree’s wooden fingers severed at the joints, veins bleeding sap onto the once clean blades. As the final limb fell, time cut back 6 months, I couldn’t help but laugh.
© C.W. Bryan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Bent

moved around so fast
outran traces of my past
contacts I'd amassed
with little hesitation
lost sight of situation

not stabilizing
life without compromising
'til next uprising
left holding tight to what was
searching out the next just cause

tangled up in lies
slim prospects can agonize
tear through the disguise
certainly no going back
when all planning goes off-track

some beliefs abide
because of truths which they hide
past acts they've denied
everything and nothing count
souls each taxed by right amount

my own mother's faith
premise easy to forsake
seemed too profit based
afterlife but a cheap trick
fake carrot attached to stick

relativity
defines things differently
with more symmetry
increasing agility
throughout the totality

time a state of mind
often used to try to find
nature's true design
of a mass always the same
yet constantly rearranged

where do we reside
in universe vast and wide
peer out from inside
closer to edge than center
current knowledge can't render

dark skies filled with voids
the cosmologist enjoys
and black hole destroys
this universe more or less
is chock full of nothingness

science lights the way
to where we headed these days
bits, bytes, down runways
send voyages toward Oort cloud
seeing how heavens are plowed

ride the bleeding edge
with data mining we dredge
what Einstein alleged
learning even photons bend
in order to reach their end
© Ng Rippel  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Tanka

Cat Facts

Cat Facts 

Cats have been known to bark at night in Indonesia
People there don’t like them and find them pretentious
For insomnia cats count lives, 9 if I’m not mistaken
If you throw cats from airplanes they won’t die
Provided the planes are parked on runways 
And the cats are tossed, ever so gently, like Frisbees
Little kittens don’t get breast augmentations
Implants can be dangerous and costly
They are too young and parents won’t approve
And none of them have pockets
Cats prey at night.  Mice pray also
For cannibals in Indonesia and peace in the Middle East 
They pray for cats to run away and play with birds
If a cat is thrown hard, off a very high building
Say, into the ocean, will it fly or die?
Reliable sources say don’t try.  We don’t know why
If you want to continue with your marriage
Keep your kiddie low and dry
Though cats can swim they prefer a sauna and a lunch
Preferably fresh milk, fish, then sleeping on the lawn
Cats don’t need money for their food
Again, they don't have pockets
Humans do everything for free
They love their cats, because cats are actually in charge
Cats don’t get sunburns in Florida 
They hide under cars and trees
And are not as dumb as you might think
Cats get their way, by saying just one word, ..…Meow
In Indonesia they bark
Form: Didactic

No Parachutes

Two men left the airplane without parachutes
One was a young student not too bright and out for fun
He had sport sneakers on when he departed
The old guy wore heavy worker boots as a rule
Took one small step at a time when flying
In fear that he might fall
He was coming down with a cold or flu as well 
Torrential rain and eclectic winds caused poor visibility
Vague city lights flickered on dark distant runways
As fate would have it, the plane had already landed
But the duration of the trip was long and tedious
Only slight turbulence was experienced while in flight  
Now they simply have to fight the weather as predicted
Two men and others left the airplane safe and sound
Bound for separate destinations as designed 
Commercial airlines don’t offer parachutes to customers
It is not their policy
Beer and wine still cost three dollars on all flights
As uneventful as may seem

In-Flight Convergence

in-flight convergence
by Michael R. Burch

serene, almost angelic,
the lights of the city                extend
over lumbering behemoths
shrilly screeching displeasure
they say:
that nothing is certain,
that nothing man dreams or ordains
long endures his command

here the streetlights that flicker
and those blazing steadfast
seem one: from a                   distance;
descend?
they abruptly
part               ways

so that nothing is one
which at times does not suddenly blend
into garish insignificance
in the familiar alleyways,
in the white neon flash
and the billboards of Convenience

and man seems the afterthought of his own Brilliance
as we thunder down the enlightened runways

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