Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
the elegances of minutiae, the grandeur of detail
**

inspired by m vogel
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5097839/airborne-part-i/


&&&&&&&

perhaps, unlikely, unwittingly
your fingertips bring you to a familiarity,
stumbling into a new door, taken by the intricate intrigue of any
of:

name, style, handwriting, overlapping language
and sometimes pure chance, impure luck,
leads one to a poem,

that soddens your soul,
the elegances of minutiae, the grandeur of detail,
the rendering of pain so swelling in a heart,
where loss is everything and then there is
absence,  
and though a life can be voided,
a poem is forever,
for it lives in a land of luck of the draw

and you read this poem above,
and you are airborne into a deeper sea depth
that makes the chest arrest, the legs limp,
the intensity of the details
insist one clutches his neck
to ascertain that the choking will not be permanent

this falling into a poem
bedevils me,
and tells me the road ahead
so open, so wide, scarcely touched by
footsteps,
and return you do
for a second tasting, a third emulsion,
and though you leave another's poem,
the heaviness of chest informs yourself,
this is now part of my baggage
that cannot be be ever lost,
but will go round and round
the luggage carousel
till it is your turn
to take it home

Sept. 23, 2025
Nat Lipstadt Sep 19
Airborne Muse #2: Once I wrote: (1)

if it cannot be said
in ten words, it cannot

(but now, older wiser, more intuitive)

I be~leave five is plentiful

and I'm still
                                        working on
                                                              ­                   the three of:

thee and me

&
and one day,
I"ll get to maybe, and
reveal a bare skin
of brotherly love,
and speak of the
trinity of two;
but I'm open to your suggestions,
                                                                ­             re that too:

note tho,
must be superior superlative than:
above beyond
                                              just merely

we two


11/26/24
12:27pm
last updated
7:07am
9/28/25
Up, up and away,
as I soar into the sky,
light as a feather,
with the birds on high,
Oh, watch me fly,
as I spread my wings,
Explore the world, and
the most wonderful things,
The beauty that's within, and
all that it brings,
Just look down, and see
what the world has in store,
as I am exploring,
Who could ask for more,
flying up above this
whole entire nation,
as I am Thankful for
God's Beautiful Creations,
as I look down upon the
lands and the seas,
The monuments,
of the world,
So beautiful to see,
A marvelous sight,
So adorning to me,
as I am airborne,
Flying in my Dreams!!!!


B.R.
Date: 4/15/2025
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2024
Airborne Muse #2: Once I wrote: (1)

if it cannot be said
in ten words, it cannot

(but now, older wiser, more intuitive)

I believe five is plentiful

11/26/24
12:27pm
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2020
At swim,
girl waits with gun.
She's a half-formed thing,
having entered into it
motherless.
The fault in our stars,
the night sky with exit wounds,
is left to the grace of
a god of such small things:

fabulous disarray,
perilous notions.

It's a common tale
in tragic literature,
but here it now floats.
The red tide washing
back onto shore
as granules of sugar,
sweet as petrified honey
in the hallowed out trees:

in which we begin
to not understand.

The sea breaks its back,
lingering like the wet gossamer
of her nightdress,
covered with the scent
of stillbirth,
and the illimitable
shut-in trials:

they arrive in waves,
she weeps every time they're "borne."
E McNamara Mar 2018
The ocean spray of salt
The everlasting sounds of waves
The sand, a locked vault
The tide, an unforgiving grave

The sun rises at the edge
The memories so celestial
I take my loyal pledge
My heart a sailing vessel

Sea shells, colorful in sound
Sea life, beautiful in sight
A dream I’ve finally found
The sunset, a hypnotizing light

The airborne seagulls calling me to sink
The surf alluring a magical peace
My endeavors start to shrink
The stars turn to be my timepiece
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
Put some stress on those legs
Not a dress that begs
My permission for takeoff
caught the wave... are we high; are we there yet?

— The End —