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"faa" poems
The line didn't move, though there were not many people in it. In a half-hearted light the lone agent dealt patiently, noiselessly, endlessly with a large dazed family ranging from twin toddlers in strollers to an old lady in a bent wheelchair. Their baggage was all in cardboard boxes. The plane was delayed, the rumor went through the line. We shrugged, in our hopeless overcoats. Aviation had never seemed a very natural idea. Bored children floated with faces drained of blood. The girls in the tax-free shops stood frozen amid promises of a beautiful life abroad. Louis Armstrong sang in some upper corner, a trickle of ignored joy. Outside, in an unintelligible darkness that stretched to include the rubies of strip malls, winged behemoths prowled looking for the gates where they could bury their koala-bear noses and **** our dimming dynamos dry. Boys in floppy sweatshirts and backward hats slapped their feet ostentatiously while security attendants giggled and the voice of a misplaced angel melodiously parroted FAA regulations. Women in saris and kimonos dragged, as their penance, behind them toddlers clutching Occidental teddy bears, and chair legs screeched in the food court while ill-paid wraiths mopped circles of night into the motionless floor.
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10.3k
Flight to Limbo
My eyes smell sleepy, he, refusing to depart, But there is coffee on the nightstand, The odor, infiltrating the dozy brain's heart. Annoyed with each other, They shout and fight Like teenage siblings Commissioners at the SEC, Arguing over bathroom monopolization, The tongue stays sidelined, feigning net neutrality. The bed smells empty, For the **** has crowed, Yogi David commands your presence At Saturday morning Eight O'clock yoga services. To get to his Sinai on time, Early departure, an FAA requirement, Car, ferry and foot you will deploy, In the winter, special skis and snowshoes, That blessed by his mantra, Enable you to walk on water. In the kitchen there is sisterly conversation, Yes, puttering and muttering and discussing, Sister's grown child texting, he's making the pilgrimage To see Mama, alone, unexpectedly, Six hours driving. Friends and countryman, That is how you spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e Sleepy master dwarf refuses to concede, Says when kitchen noises retreat, Back to him you will supplicate, They (the other dwarfs and body parts), Have a big convention to better communicate.. Departure comes without a kiss, But not without complaint, She always says I love you first, Which is natural, She being a girl. Now the bladder starts to whiny~chatter, What about me, what about me, Don't you love me, and me rhymes with P! While the stomach quietly snores Have been well-fed but a few hours before, He dreams of some more....macadamia crusted s'mores... I could verse you more, No problem that's for sure, But you got the point: The morning smells.
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 7:18 AM UTC
FPotD: The Morning Smells
My eyes smell sleepy, he, refusing to depart, But there is coffee on the nightstand, The odor, infiltrating the dozy brain's heart. Annoyed with each other, They shout and fight Like teenage siblings Commissioners at the SEC, Arguing over bathroom monopolization, The tongue stays sidelined, feigning net neutrality. The bed smells empty, For the **** has crowed, Yogi David commands your presence At Saturday morning Eight O'clock yoga services. To get to his Sinai on time, Early departure, an FAA requirement, Car, ferry and foot you will deploy, In the winter, special skis and snowshoes, That blessed by his mantra, Enable you to walk on water. In the kitchen there is sisterly conversation, Yes, puttering and muttering and discussing, Sister's grown child texting, he's making the pilgrimage To see Mama, alone, unexpectedly, Six hours driving. Friends and countryman, That is how you spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e Sleepy master dwarf refuses to concede, Says when kitchen noises retreat, Back to him you will supplicate, They (the other dwarfs and body parts), Have a big convention to better communicate.. Departure comes without a kiss, But not without complaint, She always says I love you first, Which is natural, She being a girl. Now the bladder starts to whiny~chatter, What about me, what about me, Don't you love me, and me rhymes with P! While the stomach quietly snores Have been well-fed but a few hours before, He dreams of some more....macadamia crusted s'mores... I could verse you more, No problem that's for sure, But you got the point: The morning smells.
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46
Newsflash Newsflash: There will be not any Christmas this year. Santa's elves are on strike for better pay and no Obamacare. The FAA has grounded Rudoph. So Santa has to use Twikle toes for more light. Santa's doctor told Santa to lay off the cookies because he won't get off the ground. The other reindeer wants more feed because they don't like carrots. So no Christmas this Year Boys and Girls.
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Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC
Newsflash
It was summer, late 80's,  Lubbock, Texas, age prevents me from recallng the exact date and time. It was my father on the phone, asking if me and my wife, Karen, would like to go with him out to the airport to visit with my Uncle Jack(Major, USAF ret.). Jack called him and said that he and a 'friend' were flying in private plane to Houston, and would be stopping in Lubock and would be in around noon. Jack was the youngest of three brothers, and my favorite. Shortly before eleven, dad picked us up and off we went. I asked dad if he knew who was coming with him, and he said "no, have no idea." Sitting in the coffee shop, looking out the windows, we saw this Cessna land, and taxi over to the gate. "There they are", dad said, with some anticipation. In a few minutes Jack and his 'friend' emerged. The 'friend" was tall, slender, grayish hair, crew cut. He looked familiar, that 'friend' as they entered the room, and then came the introductions. His name was "Deke" Slayton. One of the original seven astronauts chosen by NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) to participate in the original Mercury program in 1959,and was later the pilot of the docking module when they docked with the Soviet Soyuz capsule in 1975. He was a bomber pilot during WWII, and later became a test pilot. Jack was a glider pilot during the war, and upon retiring from the air force went to work for the FAA(Federal Aeronautics Administration) as Supv. Flight Control Operations, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. They had known each other for a long time. Needless to say, Karen and I nearly "slid out if our chairs", for it's not everyday when you find yourself having a casual cup of coffee and conversation with someone who considered such feats as, "just doing his job." "You never know, who you're going to meet..... on any given day..... at any given time." r.riddle: 10-16-2016
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Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
You Never Know Who You're Going to Meet
It was summer, late 80's,  Lubbock, Texas, age prevents me from recallng the exact date and time. It was my father on the phone, asking if me and my wife, Karen, would like to go with him out to the airport to visit with my Uncle Jack(Major, USAF ret.). Jack called him and said that he and a 'friend' were flying in private plane to Houston, and would be stopping in Lubock and would be in around noon. Jack was the youngest of three brothers, and my favorite. Shortly before eleven, dad picked us up and off we went. I asked dad if he knew who was coming with him, and he said "no, have no idea." Sitting in the coffee shop, looking out the windows, we saw this Cessna land, and taxi over to the gate. "There they are", dad said, with some anticipation. In a few minutes Jack and his 'friend' emerged. The 'friend" was tall, slender, grayish hair, crew cut. He looked familiar, that 'friend' as they entered the room, and then came the introductions. His name was "Deke" Slayton. One of the original seven astronauts chosen by NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration) to participate in the original Mercury program in 1959,and was later the pilot of the docking module when they docked with the Soviet Soyuz capsule in 1975. He was a bomber pilot during WWII, and later became a test pilot. Jack was a glider pilot during the war, and upon retiring from the air force went to work for the FAA(Federal Aeronautics Administration) as Supv. Flight Control Operations, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. They had known each other for a long time. Needless to say, Karen and I nearly "slid out if our chairs", for it's not everyday when you find yourself having a casual cup of coffee and conversation with someone who considered such feats as, "just doing his job." "You never know, who you're going to meet..... on any given day..... at any given time." r.riddle: 10-16-2016
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Babygirl come over here  and let me hit you with a little **** passion  mouth game blastin' im long lastin'  like bubblegum show me ya tongue  so i can get a taste o what i feel when im deep in that chocha faa real  got **** hot butter popcorn leave ya deeply scorn  from my love deep strokin' tongue soakin'  on ya ******* runnin' circles around ya belly flex ya back muscle let me see ya work  put this **** n so deep til you fall asleep i aint' a creep just keepin' it real  and we can move from the floor into the livin' room sweep u up like a broom and heres come the boom sike not fast not slow Just a nice smooth tempo  as jodeci singin' in the background  got ya on ya back now  now tell me who's the best Ya hands on my chest  screamin' my name finna burn the flame  ya know how i get down  smack down lay down hurt that chocha til ya ****** expressions start to frown **** near drown  in a puddle of tears  can't fight the temptations can't resist  and when ya release the ******  i reach over and kiss osculatin' no debatin'  pound for pound thats just one round? Tell me how fr3aky u r N if so tell me are ya still down ??
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC
Still down for me?
The azure-blue sky caught my eyes It resembles the colour of your eyes The eyes which once had been impeccable for me Alas those eyes are treacherous Ignore the quaint blue eyes Focus on the make shift love it gave Careful with its impish eye smile Cause those eyes are feigned and ambiguous ~faa
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Eyes