light cage up in the air,
freeing, a million birds wild ascending shadows
come falling down.
The rain is brightening now. The face is pale
the puzzle solved with an unexpected kiss,
freckled hands alit.
(Blackout of Rain Towards Morning by Elizabeth Bishop)
I am on a spiral staircase high up in the air.
With no idea where it is going, but the staircase must end somewhere.
So I started down the spiral staircase, going around and around.
Walking forever downward, but never getting closer to the ground.
As I walk down this spiral staircase, my heart begins to race.
With urgency to get down this spiral staircase, I have to pick up my pace.
Walking forever, going around and around.
Daylight is fading into darkness, and I cannot hear any sound
It seemed I had walked for hours down this spiral stair.
Forever walking around and around but not getting anywhere.
This walk down the spiral staircase has got my mind confused.
But I keep walking downwards what have I got to lose?
I have walked for hours, and the end is now in sight.
Where am I what will I find my chest is getting tight
I HAVE FINSHED WALKING DOWN THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE AND I am broken hearted
Because at the end of the spiral staircase, I am right back where I started.
At sea where the shadows breathe,
Old ships lie, lost beneath the sea,
Corvette Donna Freja on the patrol,
Sailing waters, old stories unfold.
An island looms, radar watch keen,
But danger whispers cuts the serene.
A Seabase ship breaks the silent night,
There in the cove, no chance to fight.
Ghosts of the Triangle call out in despair,
Waves of the past rise up in the air.
Fight or flee, under moon light,
Will the Freja engage the fight?
A cruiser’s shadow, sharp and swift,
Guns pointing fierce, the air is a rift.
Captain’s blood hot as a flame,
Decide in seconds, the cruelest game.
The Commodore, monitors the chase,
Information’s life, a dangerous space.
Fins in the dark, chasing their prey,
Past and present, a to price to pay.
Caught in fate and courage worn thin,
Echoes of battles, places they’ve been.
Water graves whisper, every tide’s song,
History's grips, the Freja must be strong.
Through the Triangle's they’ll sail once more,
A Corvette fleeing, but her spirit will roar.
In the depth of night, courage runs deep,
She’ll return to fight, where the enemy creeps.
In the dead of night.
Snotty cat was as stuck up as they are ever made
She wore sunglasses and drank tea in the shade
A fashionista, her pinky finger was up in the air
She was the best dressed cat in the country of Belair
We did not dare speak, she intimidated us so
Her clothing was designer, her shades had a glow
She is a fashion plate special, she has been on a runway walk
They renamed it cat after her, and there was nary a squawk
Slender sapling sprouts budding
from the sub-soil seed,
trembles in the convivial wake
of the bracing breeze.
Forking boughs flutter like verdant wings,
nascent leaves look up sparkling
to the rising sun of promise,
soaking them with sheen of a new life.
Turning seasons bring rain and shine,
strong roots grip the ground firmly.
It grows up in the air of heightened pride,
endures the turmoil of storms
to reach the sapphire sky,
encase the nectar of dreams
within the craving trunk.
When from the spring air love drips
flowers bloom in the tree of life.
The sap of bliss flows in the soul,
designs the vibrant art of living.
From Des Moines to Kansas City wind tunnel sideways
sixty-two miles per hour in a straight line always
a fierce super tornado that roars down Interstate thirty-five
throwing farms up in the air, livestock no longer alive
a quintessential tornado, dreaded and rare, a derecho
there truly was no way to hide, no places to shelter or go
a memory of terror that would last three states forever
many torn up families returning to home, never
a deadly derecho is what many do not survive
a terrifying experience up Interstate thirty-five
affecting Missouri, Kansas, and Iowa that day
the horrors of that creature forever here to stay
It’s opening day (that’s for baseball);
The season’s officially here,
With fans set to flock to the ball fields
To watch, buying hot dogs and beer.
If life were compared to a ball game,
Each inning a decade or so,
We’d root for our home team, while knowing
The game’s sometimes boring and slow.
Yet other times, there is excitement
And we take the lead in the score,
Without any way of predicting
What action is waiting in store.
There’s a break in the 7th for stretching,
When the game’s cut as if by a knife,
Which is like when it’s time to retire
And confront what is left of your life.
Then the players get back in position,
The outcome still up in the air,
But there isn’t much time to the finish
And perhaps not much power to spare.
Now my husband’s a bit of a joker;
This baseball/life theme’s his, not mine,
Yet when he said we’re in the 9th inning*,
I knew I would pilfer that line.
*The title is what he actually said about
where we’re at, which cracked me up…
twirling five wheels
up in the air
an affair
cushion weighted down
unheeded mail stuffed
under treads
family united with epoxy
the chair is patient
disabled and no longer
unglued
it will be coasting
in a couple of days
not new but put together
as we sail
The clouds turn black, a bruised and heavy sky
A sudden gust of wind takes the leaves up high
The animals scurry on as the birds start to fly
The rain starts to patter like a summer in July
A thunder breaks out like a crack of the whip
Lightning strikes close, it makes your heart skip
A flood slowly rises as the ceiling starts to drip
The roof’s about to collapse like a capsizing ship
The winds take turns howling in despair
The lawn decor’s getting tossed up in the air
The rain blows sideways as it cuts and it tears
Mother Nature throws a fit of elemental scares
The warm sun is gone, only gray clouds remain
The silent aftermath leaves only fear and the pain
The effects of a storm that ominously reigned
This tempest leaves its mark like a holy bloodstain
for Souper Suessy Poetry Contest-Sponsored by: Benjamin Bartley
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there was a black and white cat named spike,
who strutted 'round like he was humanlike.
holding his nose up in the air,
he thought he was a prince, the thrones heir.
i was just his humble servant and slave,
i had to tread a fine line, had to behave.
he would wait for me to open the door,
so he could go outside to do his big cat chore.
by his food bowl he would just sit and glare,
till it was filled with his Favorite fare.
he would hunt a mouse or a feathered bird,
then show me, to get a positive word.
he would lay on his back for a tummy rub,
and would just purr and purr.
you knew...he was in love.
High up in the air, a kite -
the wind helps it take fun flight.
All the while, the sun shines bright.
Everything seems so right.
What could possibly go wrong?
From the East, Godzilla; from the West, King Kong.
"Lost, in a fight for survival, a man refuses to succumb to a harsh wilderness." - quote by poet.
A great aerial adventure comes to
A harrowing end for one man.
His hot air balloon malfunctions;
It comes crashing down in the middle
Of a vast sea of trees.
He is quite fortunate to be alive,
But sustained injuries in the crash.
He shot his flare gun up in the air;
The only one in his possession.
T'was all for naught. Now what?
He has combed through the crash site
For his dislocated phone in vain.
Rainy jungle, untamed; It's no place to wait
For rescue. Wild animals roam here;
It teems with insects and snakes, too.
On the move with a badly broken leg,
He beats his way through the undergrowth
Back to civilization. Danger lurks
In every corner, but with strong faith
And resourcefulness, he pushes forward...
I knew after the longest moment we made love,
That you could be better than someone sent from above,
But soon enough you told me we weren't meant to be,
I know you had only meant to see me free:
But I sadly and sentimentally told you,
I would always love you no matter what you'll do.
I descended into a sorrow stretching beyond tomorrow,
As I continuously remember there will be no one like you.
I'll forever fondly remember your lovemaking,
The way you left my legs up in the air quivering.
I'll always be patiently longing for much more,
Even after all attempts I made to make your heart as sore.
To this day even after our time spent long apart,
I will still calculate my aim while holding this dart.
Forever praying someday you may return to me
With the intention to love me forever more eternally.
SERENITY
Hate's up in the air;
naturing winds of peace blowing:
Hate snuffed out by love:-
something is under the wheelbarrow today
It moved up in the air in a weird way
a monkey? a squirrel? tiger or bear?
a faerie queen with gobs of sparkly green hair?
the wheelbarrow moved ever so slightly
whatever it is, can I afford to take it lightly?
what if it is a kitten, a bird or a large puppy?
a whale? a shark? or perhaps a teensy guppy?
the green wheelbarrow started to shiver and shake.
this is a real story, true all the way through, not a bit fake.
a column of red fire ants paraded out, a thousand in all.
proud and fierce, all puffed up, with lots of gall.
Then a snake, a whale, a dolphin, and a baboon.
They brought with them a storm and a little monsoon.
I stared at it amazed, wondering what else would come out.
My husband was the last one, and he gave a big shout.
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