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#airport
Thank you TSA for the pest control Thank you TSA For helping to prevent More trauma Thank you TSA For caring about people I know it is hard To deal with ********* But don’t feel under appreciated You are to me appreciated Thank you TSA For helping the world Thank you TSA For the integrity You have Thank you TSA For protecting the kids Thank you So much for For what you do Thank you Thank you Thank you For the protection From the foul and Biohazardous attitudes That plague the world Causing Wars and suffering Thank you TSA For giving it your all Thank you TSA for easing the suffering Thank you TSA For your wonderful services Many people will be Ignorant But I am not The world needs you And what you do Thank you For making this world More of a dream For us all Thank you so very much Thank you TSA For what you give Thank you TSA For helping the friendly skies Stay that way I know many people Will bandage the problem; Sweep it under the rug But you face the problem This question!
0
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 6:17 PM UTC
Thank you TSA
I left my heart At the metal detector; I as I walked through; I put my soul in the x-ray machine To be scanned I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my love As I go through the airport As I board my flight I remember you searching me That sensual smile Those gentle touches Makes me melt You make me melt So beautifully I am beautifully freaky for you my darling I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my love I left my heart At the metal detector; I as I walked through; I put my soul in the x-ray machine To be scanned To be kissed by you To be made out to by you To be made love to by you You make me melt So beautifully I am beautifully freaky for you my darling As I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my love As you kiss me Touch me So sweetly I want to be with you Forever I left my heart At the metal detector; I as I walked through; I put my soul in the x-ray machine To be scanned I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector And my sweetness for you-u-u-u I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my sweet
0
Mar 15
Mar 15, 2026 at 9:25 PM UTC
Metal detector
I left my heart At the metal detector; I as I walked through; I put my soul in the x-ray machine To be scanned I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my love As I go through the airport As I board my flight I remember you searching me That sensual smile Those gentle touches Makes me melt You make me melt So beautifully I am beautifully freaky for you my darling I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my love I left my heart At the metal detector; I as I walked through; I put my soul in the x-ray machine To be scanned To be kissed by you To be made out to by you To be made love to by you You make me melt So beautifully I am beautifully freaky for you my darling As I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my love As you kiss me Touch me So sweetly I want to be with you Forever I left my heart At the metal detector; I as I walked through; I put my soul in the x-ray machine To be scanned I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector And my sweetness for you-u-u-u I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector I left my heart at the metal detector For you my sweet
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62
It was Monday, June 20th, 2022. My (Yale) roommates and I are in Paris to see Olivia Rodrigo (in two days). But tonight, I was doing a favor for my great-uncle Remy. Taking my elderly great-aunt Yvonne to the airport. In RL this all happened in French, but I wouldn’t do that to you - but just so you know. “I’ve always thought of Anais as a granddaughter,” Yvonne said, too loudly, into my phone, which she had grabbed from me and I was afraid she would drop. She kept trying to hold it to her ear. She smiled at me with her old lady dimples. “That’s sweet of you to say,” I lied. She doesn’t fool me. She’s not innocuous. She’s as mean as a snake and she doesn’t like ME at all. How did I end up doing this? I asked myself. “No Aunt Yvonne,” I said as I gently moved the phone away from her ear. “This is a CAMERA call. Hold it out so they can SEE you.” She’s saying a final goodbye to Remy and letting a cousin know her arrival time. As the Facetime call ends, I pocket my phone with relief. Lisa’s with us (I told her not to come) and she doesn’t speak French. So for her, this whole task is an awkward pantomime. Charles, our escort, drove us to Orly airport and he’s circling in wait to pick us up. Yvonne walks at a glacial pace, and it took forever to clear security. Lisa and I have special tags allowing us to escort Yvonne to her gate. I offered to get her a wheelchair, but NOOOOO. “We need to hurry –,” I began, but she interrupted me. “Why are you wearing that skintight nothing?” she barked loudly, irritatedly, “if I had YOUR figure, I’d hide those tiny ******* (“minuscules seins,” in French, loudly). Heads turned as I flushed with irritation and she cackled like a witch. It’s 8pm in Paris and 30.5°C (87°F). I’m wearing a sports bra and two tank tops. Sue me. I wasn’t planning on doing this at all. We were staggering slowly through the terminal when, like a gift from God, an Air France courtesy tram pulled up next to us. “Get on,” I demanded, “or we’ll miss your flight.” She did - as slowly as humanly possible. When we finally got seated at the gate, she sent me for bottled water, a sleep mask, a neck pillow, sugarless lemon drops and a Paris Match magazine. “Thank you, my dear,” she said upon my return, baring her teeth at me in what I suppose was meant to be a smile. “You should come and visit me (in Libreville, Gabon, Africa),” she suggested, “I think there are things I could teach you." 'Sure,' I thought, 'like how to get eaten by a lion.' “I can’t,” I said, with feigned regret, "I'm in school,” (I wouldn’t go there if she lived with Timothée Chalamet). I heard a familiar voice, and I looked up to see my Grandmère arriving with her usual entourage of 7 or 8 lackeys, a couple of frazzled Air France employees and two gendarmes. “Yvonne,” she said, pointing to the two Air France employees, “these people will see to you. Say goodbye to Anais.” “Goodbye dear,” Yvonne said in a fake, fragile voice. I gave Yvonne a half-hearted Paris bises (two kisses on each side) and my Grandmère shooed me away with a hand gesture and an impatient, “Go, GO.” I’m afraid Remy’s in trouble. Yvonne and her branch of the family are the slimiest people you could ever meet. They’re billion-heirs (not billionaires - billion-heirs) who (theoretically) stand to inherit handsomely when my Grandmère dies (I am NOT in that grubby lineup). They’re liars, cheaters and scoundrels who’d stab you in the face for an olive to put in their martinis. They're legal reasons my Grandmère has to put up with them from time to time - but every interaction is fraught with phoniness. About fifteen minutes later, Lisa and I are in the car with Charles racing back to Paris for dinner with our roommates. As I texted them to expect us in 20 minutes, Lisa said, “I got bad vibes from that old lady - the way she LOOKED at you when you weren’t watching..” “YOU,” I said with a chuckle, “are very perceptive!” . . Songs for this: Never Need Me by Rachel Chinouriri Forever by HAIM
0
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 11:17 PM UTC
yvonne to orly
It was Monday, June 20th, 2022. My (Yale) roommates and I are in Paris to see Olivia Rodrigo (in two days). But tonight, I was doing a favor for my great-uncle Remy. Taking my elderly great-aunt Yvonne to the airport. In RL this all happened in French, but I wouldn’t do that to you - but just so you know. “I’ve always thought of Anais as a granddaughter,” Yvonne said, too loudly, into my phone, which she had grabbed from me and I was afraid she would drop. She kept trying to hold it to her ear. She smiled at me with her old lady dimples. “That’s sweet of you to say,” I lied. She doesn’t fool me. She’s not innocuous. She’s as mean as a snake and she doesn’t like ME at all. How did I end up doing this? I asked myself. “No Aunt Yvonne,” I said as I gently moved the phone away from her ear. “This is a CAMERA call. Hold it out so they can SEE you.” She’s saying a final goodbye to Remy and letting a cousin know her arrival time. As the Facetime call ends, I pocket my phone with relief. Lisa’s with us (I told her not to come) and she doesn’t speak French. So for her, this whole task is an awkward pantomime. Charles, our escort, drove us to Orly airport and he’s circling in wait to pick us up. Yvonne walks at a glacial pace, and it took forever to clear security. Lisa and I have special tags allowing us to escort Yvonne to her gate. I offered to get her a wheelchair, but NOOOOO. “We need to hurry –,” I began, but she interrupted me. “Why are you wearing that skintight nothing?” she barked loudly, irritatedly, “if I had YOUR figure, I’d hide those tiny ******* (“minuscules seins,” in French, loudly). Heads turned as I flushed with irritation and she cackled like a witch. It’s 8pm in Paris and 30.5°C (87°F). I’m wearing a sports bra and two tank tops. Sue me. I wasn’t planning on doing this at all. We were staggering slowly through the terminal when, like a gift from God, an Air France courtesy tram pulled up next to us. “Get on,” I demanded, “or we’ll miss your flight.” She did - as slowly as humanly possible. When we finally got seated at the gate, she sent me for bottled water, a sleep mask, a neck pillow, sugarless lemon drops and a Paris Match magazine. “Thank you, my dear,” she said upon my return, baring her teeth at me in what I suppose was meant to be a smile. “You should come and visit me (in Libreville, Gabon, Africa),” she suggested, “I think there are things I could teach you." 'Sure,' I thought, 'like how to get eaten by a lion.' “I can’t,” I said, with feigned regret, "I'm in school,” (I wouldn’t go there if she lived with Timothée Chalamet). I heard a familiar voice, and I looked up to see my Grandmère arriving with her usual entourage of 7 or 8 lackeys, a couple of frazzled Air France employees and two gendarmes. “Yvonne,” she said, pointing to the two Air France employees, “these people will see to you. Say goodbye to Anais.” “Goodbye dear,” Yvonne said in a fake, fragile voice. I gave Yvonne a half-hearted Paris bises (two kisses on each side) and my Grandmère shooed me away with a hand gesture and an impatient, “Go, GO.” I’m afraid Remy’s in trouble. Yvonne and her branch of the family are the slimiest people you could ever meet. They’re billion-heirs (not billionaires - billion-heirs) who (theoretically) stand to inherit handsomely when my Grandmère dies (I am NOT in that grubby lineup). They’re liars, cheaters and scoundrels who’d stab you in the face for an olive to put in their martinis. They're legal reasons my Grandmère has to put up with them from time to time - but every interaction is fraught with phoniness. About fifteen minutes later, Lisa and I are in the car with Charles racing back to Paris for dinner with our roommates. As I texted them to expect us in 20 minutes, Lisa said, “I got bad vibes from that old lady - the way she LOOKED at you when you weren’t watching..” “YOU,” I said with a chuckle, “are very perceptive!” . . Songs for this: Never Need Me by Rachel Chinouriri Forever by HAIM
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29
"This place had a heartbeat in its day." For some reasons i can't explain, a brutal way to ameliorate anxiety is positioning myself into another duty. Embodied by mobility, airport evokes thinking as much as hearkening — the highest stage of listening: only to listen. It grows as a form of sensory participation of a field without attaching any meaning to sounds and therefore allows the subject and object of this acoustic event to entangle. Those who can and do hearken hold an intensity that keeps them sensitive to the environment they entered and altered. Am i among them? At least i could let sounds penetrate through the body; it cures and splits all at once, incorporating debris of imagination, action, and aspiration. Sounds do not disappear, only dissipate; so do voices. The line between volition and ideal no longer equivocal; I’m taking a chance, a fall, a shot. In dreams I hardly dream a figure who hasn't yet show up — perhaps becoming. And yet amorphous, heavy worries kept me awake. Again, i flowed with them — into billows that would otherwise engulf hope. What those worries eclipsed was memory, an anchor of sentience that fears going on fire. Experiences dissipate, lowing the volume, silent, but sometimes, it haunts anyway, earsplitting. Later this Fall i’m getting to know every route in this county and tell thee where not to speed. As i split the road down the middle, gusty wind invades the turmoil, ever torn. I almost froze. In seconds the world seems so simple. Perturbation surrounds, and i don't know that i can take another fight. A timid grim, drowsiness incriminates me escaping into unmade blanket and unmatched timezone. Not having to make sense is such a luxury. And I really love the sense of unsettlement writing brings me; it exposes something I didn’t know I know. 5: 43 pm December 5, 2025. Islands District. 22 Celsius. 56% humidity. Right off the port. It feels more foggy than my August arrival but the exact moisture permeates. I still hold the thrill, you know? “Having no regrets is all that i really want.” AWE Zone A. A2, 379. The distance of a few seats took me 364 days. It is in the most unlikely situation that I understand the dynamics between me and the uncontrollable. Then the message it carries is: suppressing expectations on others might help but the expedient decision made by the self refuses any Plan B. And I won’t fan the heat into flames. Gigantic windows, sparsely populated seat, Nodi ***** and my RD Batch#1 DRAFT7.5. No one is wrong; 'tis the last substratum of lived experience. By the way, I skipped meal again, defying Prof.Maxine’s note but not another: stay hydrated. The plane was taking off. Overweight and weightlessness, all-consuming.
0
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025 at 5:18 AM UTC
The Fourth Battle
"This place had a heartbeat in its day." For some reasons i can't explain, a brutal way to ameliorate anxiety is positioning myself into another duty. Embodied by mobility, airport evokes thinking as much as hearkening — the highest stage of listening: only to listen. It grows as a form of sensory participation of a field without attaching any meaning to sounds and therefore allows the subject and object of this acoustic event to entangle. Those who can and do hearken hold an intensity that keeps them sensitive to the environment they entered and altered. Am i among them? At least i could let sounds penetrate through the body; it cures and splits all at once, incorporating debris of imagination, action, and aspiration. Sounds do not disappear, only dissipate; so do voices. The line between volition and ideal no longer equivocal; I’m taking a chance, a fall, a shot. In dreams I hardly dream a figure who hasn't yet show up — perhaps becoming. And yet amorphous, heavy worries kept me awake. Again, i flowed with them — into billows that would otherwise engulf hope. What those worries eclipsed was memory, an anchor of sentience that fears going on fire. Experiences dissipate, lowing the volume, silent, but sometimes, it haunts anyway, earsplitting. Later this Fall i’m getting to know every route in this county and tell thee where not to speed. As i split the road down the middle, gusty wind invades the turmoil, ever torn. I almost froze. In seconds the world seems so simple. Perturbation surrounds, and i don't know that i can take another fight. A timid grim, drowsiness incriminates me escaping into unmade blanket and unmatched timezone. Not having to make sense is such a luxury. And I really love the sense of unsettlement writing brings me; it exposes something I didn’t know I know. 5: 43 pm December 5, 2025. Islands District. 22 Celsius. 56% humidity. Right off the port. It feels more foggy than my August arrival but the exact moisture permeates. I still hold the thrill, you know? “Having no regrets is all that i really want.” AWE Zone A. A2, 379. The distance of a few seats took me 364 days. It is in the most unlikely situation that I understand the dynamics between me and the uncontrollable. Then the message it carries is: suppressing expectations on others might help but the expedient decision made by the self refuses any Plan B. And I won’t fan the heat into flames. Gigantic windows, sparsely populated seat, Nodi ***** and my RD Batch#1 DRAFT7.5. No one is wrong; 'tis the last substratum of lived experience. By the way, I skipped meal again, defying Prof.Maxine’s note but not another: stay hydrated. The plane was taking off. Overweight and weightlessness, all-consuming.
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7
The check-in process and security check took a long time. But I could and did defy thirst only to find home in a bookstore here in LAX, in dusk’s falling veil. I tried to find some coffee with a taste of a mix of feelings. I almost walked through every stretch of the airport and finally found an unassuming café. And found the ice latte more familiar than expected. 21: 40-22: 12 PDT; 12: 40-13: 12 BJS. I called you two. At the corner where the plane craft is in in sight, i held my Mac, tight and tender; three profile photos engraved by experiences touched me, again. We're so faraway. A distance of 15-hour time difference. The WiFi was bad, while we're so connected. We defied it all. And finally i realized that nothing is more crucial or invaluable than the tacit bridge we constructed——sincerity, resolution, flexibility, and accordance. I wondered how my most important people are all here——no, there. And it hurts to think about you all gonna depart, leaving our dialogue in between. Would the sentience pick those debris up?
0
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 1:43 AM UTC
bad wifi but WE'R so Connected
tire of waiting to grasp you, reading almost every word you write, leaves me pleased, and yet, incomplete, and yet, bereft, how can this be fair, how can this be justice,. I tire of just~ice,   when warmth is the blessing needy for our unceasing, your arms to grasp your forehead to kiss   my arms on your arms in the idealylic embrace What do I have to do with my time but write poetry and seek you out,  plan to trip in every neighborhood, in every country and touch on continents where I have yet to tread! So answer me this,   with one simple word, direct me to the nearest one, the airport closest to you, to close and confirm our humanity, our Unification and the place will I call, nominate, we become a citizen of: The United State of Us... postscript I will   Travel heavy, every body part in case, for you to rearrange in whatever shape you find most to please! How can I only write love poetry if I have not told you face-to-face, the most elemental benediction: you are my Lord, my grace complect me into your ****** lace, and give us this day our own daily, unique to our new birthplace
0
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
Please Reply: what is the nearest airport to you?
It’s a race against time, As if I’ve just committed a crime. You were at the back of the line, I was up front craning my neck in serpentine. Trying to memorise your face, In a sea of strangers in this crowded place. We finally make eye contact, And for a split second I know for a fact. That a simple “hello, nice to meet you” Would be the start of something new.
0
Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 3:34 AM UTC
I met you at an airport
No quiero vivir donde My people aren’t elated Pentru să vin acasă. I am greeted with tears in their eyes Își iau avânt să mă întâlnesc căt mai rapid Estoy envuelto en los abrazos más grandes. They insist to hold my bags for me, Una mano en mi espalda y la otra en mi equipaje Mă ghidează la parcare. Niciodată întreb pentru o călătorie Una experiencia impagable por el amor que me rodea. I always get a pang of emotions even for others experiencing the same with their family. Never enough time Niciodată destul timp Nunca suficiente tiempo.
0
Jul 14, 2024
Jul 14, 2024 at 5:58 AM UTC
Home Coming
I know by your face At the arrivals gate Your kisses on my neck As soon as you came back I know by how you’d rather Lose money and time Than me That you love me I know by the way you watch me Without speaking That you want to hear What I am saying I know without you telling Your laugh, your arms are spelling That you love me and though You won’t say it out loud I know
0
Jun 1, 2024
Jun 1, 2024 at 8:35 PM UTC
I know
Why did I leave late? Why is the traffic so bad? How long do I have to wait? This situation makes me mad. When I stay calm And just breathe When I realized Being frantic, sad, or mad Would change nothing, indeed Knowing that I have a choice To go through this trip Peaceful, calm, and composed Experience change Although I'm still late for the airport.
0
Aug 28, 2023
Aug 28, 2023 at 11:18 PM UTC
A Choice
staring at Departures, waiting with futile hope that my flight's not cancelled; let me get home
0
Aug 4, 2023
Aug 4, 2023 at 9:34 PM UTC
Summer Whimsy
Hear the voice of their god as they twitch Somnolence and discomfort prevail Silent bones in a crumpled display Peaceful corpse of a deadly poison See them locked in the pose of defeat snoring nose- still’d eyes- silent voice Thousands frozen in corpulent time As they wait for their planes to arrive
0
Jul 22, 2023
Jul 22, 2023 at 3:34 AM UTC
1:38am
it's the end of the world! silence will rule my ears for the taste of ambience is not a taste i admire... the airport bag scanner ate my earphones! the best ive had in a while, might i add... the airport bag scanner widowed one of my precious earbuds! alas, i shall lay these kindred friends in a foreign trash bin burial grave-- perhaps buy a new pair as their reincarnation in some foreign elsewhere?
0
Feb 12, 2023
Feb 12, 2023 at 3:26 PM UTC
the airport bag scanner ate my earphones!
~ *precious metal detector of tourism, as in a dream, such device has the power to make one nostalgic for places either never visited or nonexistent. this strange museum exhibits sometimes airplanes, always mortality salience, and the impossibly probable idea that travel can change your sense of time, so you don't really mind if things slip away, or alter in some disenchanted way.* ~
0
Aug 21, 2022
Aug 21, 2022 at 12:21 PM UTC
Airport Terminal 2
mousy girl, sitting in the corner, of an american airlines’ lounge staring out a window, watching it snow waiting for a flight from frankfurt to dallas so cute, so demure, how is a boy to resist you long shiny hair, over sized sweats, black leggings, white keds sitting crossed, over one leg, slightly bouncing nervously occasionally catching my eye, then glancing away are you flirting or just curious, i wish i knew how do i approach you, what do i say am i of interest or am i passe do you know, you’re playing the part, of a little do you need a daddy, someone to hold, protect you make you feel special, loved, and cared for cuddled, kept warm kissed and touched, everywhere
0
Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 8:23 PM UTC
mousy girl
~ *Strange how my feet won't touch the ground. Strange how my bags are packed with sadness. Plight is my fellow passenger to Osaka sun, or Artic chill, or some volcanic love nest. Strange how my jet-setting eyes, they see paradise only on satellite tv, yet they see the once beautiful people and all their utter dismay, as they pass through the metal detectors. So strange that I can hear their strife their suffering well above the engine's roar.* ~
0
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 2:37 PM UTC
Airport Terminal 1
the rainbows led me to you your warm eyes your aroma of lavender blue. before i headed back to the skies you said we'd meet again, lies. it had been years since we last met the girl of my dreams rosie elisebette.
0
Dec 24, 2021
Dec 24, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
'long ago' love.
My scarfaced TSA prince I see you on imvu and I just want you Loving As we talk my Body aches for you My heart aches for when we can work Together And be together I pine for your presence Your love And touch
0
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 11:04 AM UTC
TSA prince
The way that you carry yourself In that CATSA uniform I see my scarfaced love Checking passengers for weapons Oh how I await his touch Oh how I await is kisses Then he takes me aside My dreams come true I get to feel his touch
0
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 10:58 AM UTC
Scarface
little by little you’ll come to understand it takes more than a destination to call it fate almost missed my flight mistaking the gate thought I’d see you coming were you late? love could’ve been the first destination but you never came
0
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 9:54 PM UTC
take off
The 4 am drive to the airport Sealed with melancholy and unbarring silence. Sweaty hands interlocked; Afraid to let go. For two hours of staying wide awake wasn't enough to absorb the repercussion we would soon be battling with. And the new faces are just a mirage, collected stories and memories still imprinted in closed notes; the counted days of our momentary bliss. The wait never felt like a burden, rather worth the wait to enjoy our last bite of meal. Tight hugs and kisses, as I walked through the door with my bags and suitcases, Never thought one day, that was the final draft of our story for five years back.
0
May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 3:38 PM UTC
Airport
He sits like he owns the place, Walks like he’s already won the race. Professional, Yet casually. Grey coat draped over his sure shoulders, Moves quick and slick unlike boulders. Swift, Yet casually. The black bag sits alone, As he waits observing on his phone. Tense, Yet casually. He catches a glimpse and chuckles a laugh. I turn away his face only half. Knowing, Yet casually. He knows something that I don’t. Pay close attention but I know that you won’t. Casual Yet, undetected.
0
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 11:04 PM UTC
Casually Undetected
Life, a brief sojourn, In an unknown airport lobby, Between an arrival and departure.
0
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 10:13 AM UTC
Between the arrival and departure.