Frank DeRose Oct 2017

Jumped out of a plane today.
Willingly, knowingly, and confidently.

Climbed 14,000 feet in a plane with two benches and 20 people
Up
  u
    p
    
      u
  

         p!

Waddled out to the garage door
A gaping hole in a metal tube hurtling through the sky

j
      u



             m
      





                           p





                                         e






                                                              d.


Free fell, 120 miles an hour toward the unforgiving earth.

Sometimes I wonder about God.
He made us dumb enough to want to do this,
For his laughs? Or ours?
Of my own volition (and at a high velocity) I plummet to what could easily be my death and last memory on this earth.

I give zero fucks.

It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world.

The parachute deploys,
I am tugged upwards.

My instructor spirals us downward,
Allows me to pull and steer.

I have no clue what exactly to do and try to follow his cues,
But I know one thing

This shit is fun

William A Poppen Jan 2017

Illusions of skydiving in a kimono
are not nightmares that awaken her
in a sweat each night

Fantasies of floating like a drone
creep into morning daydreams

Unprepared for make-believe
no kimono hangs in her closet

Each day she stands in front
of her full-length mirror
stares at perceived imperfections
as they thicken before her eyes

Friends don’t notice
each misplaced mole
or cellulite pleading
to hide from any
audience

Co-workers notice her
post-it-note headline

“Intelligent Perfect Women
Skydives in Kimono”

affixed to the cubicle wall

Today results of
her search for kimonos
of various colors
is carefully placed in
a folder entitled skydiving

My wife wonders where the idea for this poem came from.  My answer - I have no idea.
Alex Moore Oct 2016

Take a step
Breathe
Take a step
Off the edge

Fall free into the air
Nothing is up
Nothing is down
Floating in freefall

Wind meanders by
Your body speeds
To somewhere
But the mind is behind

The air has stopped now
Were you in distress?
Or did you imagine that?
Either way, you’re finished now

Falling ends at the bottom
Of the endless nether
The ground creeps up
Then your body assaults it

Laying on the concrete
Waking from a dream
Brush yourself off
And take a step off the edge

Poetria Jun 2015

I think
That skydiving
Would be so much more blissful
If there was no 'diving' involved.

// You could just float around in the sky. //

Your love is like skydiving,
   an unnerving thought,
breathless & intoxicating
  elevations beyond exhilarating,
  as it transforms life's panorama
    nothing seemed ever the same,
         after the thrill of the fall

Jasmine Marie Jan 2015

When you're falling,
the wind is like an accomplice
that will tell onlookers that you're only crying
because it's battering your eyes.

Whenever I get stressed, I get a ridiculous urge to go skydiving.
Liz Humphrey Aug 2014

Frost forms on the window as I fly away from you,
looking through the crystals to clouds,
imagining falling through frigid air outside,
my faith in a folded parachute to end my flight.
You told me once you’d do it, you’d jump into the sky,
but never for the thrill of risk, only to rescue, to save a life.
I wonder if you see me falling into your eyes,
and in your heart, am I worth a dive
for love, or even friendship’s sake?
Maybe that jump's just a risk you won't take.

Amour de Monet May 2014

"It is really beautiful up here" she whispered.

Her skin brightened in the glow of the fading masterpiece of crimsons, yellows, and golds the sun had brushed across the turquoise sky "This is it, this is what heaven is like."

I couldn't hear her, but I could read her soft spoken lips and study her face, which I always imagined as less of the cover to a book and more every word inside. There was not a greatness of a sadness that ceased to mask her portrait. She was all heart and soul, every bit of her.

I watched as her bright eyes change to become more glass than eyes. As if, for the first time, she was seeing life, love, and something more. Something so deep and beautiful that not even Hemmingway or Fitzgerald could even begin to put the prefix of it into thought.

Among the dusting of the clouds and transparent sunset I felt her heartbeat could silence and the lungs of which gave her the life I so cherished could empty turning her flesh a pale blue, and she would fade peacefully into the scene before me.

This very thought frightened me. Too soon would her feet touch the ground and nothing I was humanly capable of, or possibly godly capable of, would ever captivate and hold her so perfectly or turn her eyes as vivid - and there was nothing more I wanted.

When I asked a friend if he liked skydiving he told me it scares him.. and I decided to let him see it's beauty by writing this...

— The End —