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neth jones May 2
an updraft of exhaust
guided high-sky above the overburdened city
the urban breath cuffing your armpits
you're huffed upward in rising spirals
aloft the architecture
further raised by         
                   the tumid human populations
                                        expired waste gas,
                                   ****** perspirations,
                                                  ­ mechanism
                                        and friction heats

survey it all in a dream                             
                          horizon and the tarnishes of mankind              
blinded in your flight turns                      
by the dreams illuminating eye
no gloating your way into Icarus             
            floating beyond your oblivious ability
no groom for ****** and ego                     
         just steady alight and of given being

something in the future is restless to be
wake up
Kyra Embers Apr 14
Panic and Perplex were angels,
                   Until God, grounded them.
Maria Mitea Apr 2
between me and you voices scream,
- everything is a dream buried in white shores,
mountains and fields are between me and you,
rivers, oceans are between me and you,
the stars die between me and you,
  the gods are drowning in sighs, between me and you
  the sky splits in two,
the whole universe is waiting,
for the two wanderers to fall asleep,

voices cry, - dreamers Fly!
everything is a F(l)ight!
David Naumann Mar 27
Blackbird sitting on the windowsill,
out of the cage and still not knowing.
Trying to think of flying or staying still,
as not wanting to stay but no point in flying.

Blackbird looking out to the ground outside,
seeing other birds flying up, up and away.
Dreaming of a chance to break free and soar in the skies,
being grounded by the thought that today is not the day.

Today is not the day to fly,
fly with the pain of everything associated with departure.
Today is not the day to say goodbye,
goodbye to all the bad and the good whichever is harder.

Blackbird looking out the window and just hopin',
without realizing the window was open.
Do you clip your own wings?
Out open in a paddy feild
A kingfisher rests silent
As the vigilant eye searched
Bright blue feathers glistened

But not a prey to be found
Is he in wrong territory
Or is he just resting
On his mighty long journey

As it flew to a near by tree
Wings spreaded wide it dives
The glide resembling a perfect parabola
From a wire to a tree
It lands precise, beak straight

An eagle hunts with its claws
and dives unimaginable heights
A king fisher dives from low
And never misses

A name well deserved
with an uncompromising colour
As a king indeed he flew
saw a kingfisher bird
Thomas W Case Mar 14
Look at you my
little bird, have you
been pierced by a
Are you broken,
It fasinates me how
you just. sit there.
Did you forget about
your wings?
The sky is your
For **** sake,
take flight.
Where the birds fly
In the sky
Where man wishes to go
But not everyone has gone
Everything is small
On the World down below
That is where you really know
You are on top of the world
This is my second poem that I have posted on this website and I feel like this is the best poem that I've ever done. I hope that everyone likes this poem as much as I do.
Thomas W Case Feb 14
On my windowsill,
of that indigo night
you took me,
and I haven't
been the same since.

Something about you
makes me want to
be a better man.
I've grown wings,
so I take to the sky.
Skye Jan 24
I’m made of rubber
Worn thin over time                        
Used over and over                                            
My heart is elastic,                                                                                    
It snaps back into                                                                      
Place, but it breaks                                                
When your blade gets                
Too sharp.

I feel like a balloon,
Floating some days                                                      
Then punctured on            

Mend me,                                                              
Breathe me                                
Back to life…
Lyn-Purcell Dec 2020

Starlight on my palm
Peel back the light and you'll see
the scared soul beneath

Worthy of a shard
Of the greatness I've longed dreamed
A loose thread blown far

Pain tugs at my seams
As I am merely adrift
In one grand design

On vespertine days
I pick loose feathers to weave
Wings to fly so free

Annd I'm back!
This year really is something, I'll say that much.
Still feeling lost and out of place but slightly better.
I just wish I could fully calm the tempest of my mind, but one has to keep moving forward.

I hope everyone stays safe and well!
Have a wonderful Christmas Eve all, and a great Christmas!

Much love and airhugs,
Kind regards,

Lyn x
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