Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"airfare" poems
As I held my iPad to pull my airfare information, The sudden blood rush pass through my senses, as I glimpse fellow travelers in the airport. It is this feeling of adventure knowing I would never know these strangers, but the ideal we share a moment to explore another place profoundly echoes the inner child in me. It's like a candy in the mouth or a very fine wine, as I look through the plane window of the vast clouds, And gasp as the jet takes off taking my nerves into a new height. While my ear drums felt the extreme pressure begged to swallow my spit, This feeling of exploring explode my emotions with uncontrollable excitement. I just want to jump and do hundred push ups as the plane lands, Because you felt this cramp like you were packaged in a box in the flight, And now you are free to move and speed walk to your next destination! When I arrive at the hotel, The sudden desire to take a nap take place from the jet lag, Since all your senses took an over charge! You know adventure was just a beginning, Because now you are in the nation's Capitol, And there isn't enough time to explore everything in DMV!
0
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:01 AM UTC
Journey to DMV
Less than a month ago We were laughing and kissing And holding each other until the day's end. Oh how cruel time and karma and life and time Can be. You really had to go, huh? I mean, it wasn't your fault of course. You didn't have a choice. And summer time? oh, well airfare is way too much especially with that new job paying twice as much as before, being the underlying reason for you leaving. Yes, and flying back to see me, Well that would just be too exhausting. Don't worry, I get it. You aren't the first to explain to me The troubles of life And how Karma holds you in her grasp day-in and day-out. Life is a ***** isn't it? Just cruel. Tearing you away From everything you love; refusing to let you go back. Just remember, you aren't the only one hurting. I have a heart too. go figure? Being your first love, I know how it is. This isn't the first hurt for me, however so just keep in mind... it hurts more the second time around. and the third. and the time after the third. It keeps building until life is more than just a ***** Have you ever met the devil? I have. His real name is Life, not Lucifer. The scribes misspelled it, sorry to disappoint you. I'm not a hateful person, I'm really not. You just hurt. A lot. I think I'm done here.
0
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 1:36 PM UTC
Ranting
Take These Things and give them legs so, they can run off to places you can never go. Dress them fondly with care. Set them out there to be explored in themselves and in the minds of others. Let them get lost. It’s a small cost for laying them down. The airfare is free and rotates daily. It’s cold, but you’ll love the exposure.
0
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 5:50 AM UTC
Take These Things
Confessions hidden in the rhythm and the rhyme Its not poetry but a lowly cowards crime Fallen completely and blamming madness Fearing the love more than fearing sadness Using dime store story clichés Red shoes waiting Rain and overpriced umbrellas Romeo bleeding Pretending nothings wrong He can't say it out loud So he just quotes an old song So when she puts it all together He can claim he Was just singing along Checking the airfare To her far away town At 2:32 am Restless and sleepless But still dreaming along Falling and singing And dancing With that madness Knowing his hearts Gonna break He's just the kinda guy Who always makes Mistakes Waiting too long Or saying too much Too soon Or never saying Anything at all Because he Likes crying in the rain Out there in the dark Where no one Can hear him Or tell the rain From the tears A cowardly way to die Letting all that love Burn alone In the middle And bottom of his soul His heart beating its wings In his chest But the noose is wrapped Tight around his ribs As well as his neck A fully loaded gun Playing Russian Roulette Bang Dead on the floor While every one is watching Cagney on the screen Swaying to the rhythm and the rhyme Fitted for his straight jacket Strapping the madness in tight Hoping it while ****** his heart Somewhere in the night He's just the kinda guy Who always makes Mistakes No way out Just a prisoner Writing bad poetry On his cell walls Written up his confession But refuses To sign the dotted line
0
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
Poetry and Confessions
Confessions hidden in the rhythm and the rhyme Its not poetry but a lowly cowards crime Fallen completely and blamming madness Fearing the love more than fearing sadness Using dime store story clichés Red shoes waiting Rain and overpriced umbrellas Romeo bleeding Pretending nothings wrong He can't say it out loud So he just quotes an old song So when she puts it all together He can claim he Was just singing along Checking the airfare To her far away town At 2:32 am Restless and sleepless But still dreaming along Falling and singing And dancing With that madness Knowing his hearts Gonna break He's just the kinda guy Who always makes Mistakes Waiting too long Or saying too much Too soon Or never saying Anything at all Because he Likes crying in the rain Out there in the dark Where no one Can hear him Or tell the rain From the tears A cowardly way to die Letting all that love Burn alone In the middle And bottom of his soul His heart beating its wings In his chest But the noose is wrapped Tight around his ribs As well as his neck A fully loaded gun Playing Russian Roulette Bang Dead on the floor While every one is watching Cagney on the screen Swaying to the rhythm and the rhyme Fitted for his straight jacket Strapping the madness in tight Hoping it while ****** his heart Somewhere in the night He's just the kinda guy Who always makes Mistakes No way out Just a prisoner Writing bad poetry On his cell walls Written up his confession But refuses To sign the dotted line
Continue reading...
70
I am drowning in the humdrum of everyday life Wishing I could be sitting with you on the edge of Italy Looking out at the Adriatic Sea But alas, I am here, paying for the life you left behind And you are there soaking in rays and drinking red wine I wish you hadn't left me for there The least you could have done was paid for the airfare I think that these bills distract me from the real problem at hand If I really loved you, wouldn't I have left this land This land of mundane life and of great exhaust For something more extraordinary, something less taut But then I remember that we weren't meant to be at all Simply because we couldn't any longer stall Now I remember why I said no to becoming your wife
0
Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 7:35 PM UTC
An Ocean Away and Countless Bills to Pay