"flier" poems
Hannah decided to have a heartwarming party
After all home is where the heart is
So she invited anyone with lungs that breathe
To come share the warming air
She typed up a flier that read:
I welcome you all to see
The moon meet the sun
Cover charge: one body handshake
The drug for this evening will be hugs
I've heard if you have too many or
Squeeze too hard you can
Overdose on love
But we will take our chances
Bring a friend or
Better yet an enemy
Show them that the
Night can dance with the day
It will dawn on them at dusk
This won't be one of those
BYOB affairs
More like bring your own everything
So we all can play emotional musical chairs
Smiles are free
Surrounded by such company
So be sure to RSVP
Even though walk ins are always accepted
It would make me so happy
To know you're coming! :)
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 5:54 PM UTC
A Tribute
A king takes supper on a creaking deathbed. Featureless, winged creatures zoom by the dark condensed windows. Micro parasites build adobe headquarters in his soft tissue. Reaching for a plate, he groans the terabyting howl that’s prescribed with chemotherapy. Qwerty and light from the drugs, he stares at the apple on his tray. Lost in its curves, he finds himself trapped in a safari of memories. A dream devolves upon his downtrodden mind….
The canopy is populated with twittering, angry birds. Pools of social blood attract flies to the googolplex degree. He stumbles through the dell, suspicious forest while a tremulous, fiery fox stalks behind his echoing footfalls. Pixar apes swing from trees chased by grisly, disney men with guns and trucks. A large eye tunes the darkness and blinks red upon an aging mountain lion in shadow’s brush.
The sony rays belight foliage in auspicious, plaid-orange hues. This amazon of experience plugs the wanderer into a hard drive of intelligence – a gateway to an encyclopedia of wikis and browsers, expanse enough for any backdrop rooftop audience to be faux-enthralled and eager. There are grumblings in the distance of another engine tromping the scope in search of something new and useless. A rumorous bat upsets the plagiarizing tide of the Atlantic Pea Sea. A snake slinks out of the blossoms clinging to the vines among a macintosh tree and bites the salty flier of the washboard night; cyber venom invades his veins.
The average, homeless, bounding, warrior awakens to find a cold supper on his lap and another syringe in his arm. His remaining gums support his teeth as they bite into the apple. He swallows, sighs, and rests his balding, crescent, once-handsome head on the white pillow. The green fruit tumbles gently out of bed and mutely rolls to the floor.
With that, Steve Jobs is dead.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
*Stellar spirit, fearless flier to high skies, your wings are gifts of freedom,
your florid songs, tug at my heart as much as those plumage,
your elan, though subdued a bit by harsh weather, takes new shoots,
never in disquiet, indomitable, your inner lamp, now burns with camphor light.
I see you fly above the storm clouds, singing anthem of your soul,
spectacular, in clear weather, cheered by your dear ones near,
the hillsides, valleys and dales resound with your dulcet tunes.*
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
Jeremiah was a bullfrog
***Jeremiah was a bullfrog, he was good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said
But I helped him drink his wine
He always had some mighty fine wine, sing it
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishiest in the deep blue sea
And joy to you and me
And if I were the king of the world
I tell you what I would do
I'd throw away the cars and the bars in the world
And I'd make sweet love to you, sing it now
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Yah know I love the ladies, love to have my fun
I'm a hard knock flier and a rain bow rider
A straight shootin' son of a gun
I said a straight shootin' son of a gun
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to all the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to all the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtYnCmw2CWE
Have You Ever Seen The Rain?
***Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm,
I know
It's been comin for some time.
When it's over, so they say,
It'll rain a sunny day,
I know
Shinin down like water.
[Chorus]
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin down on a sunny day
Yesterday, and days before,
Sun is cold and rain is hard,
I know
Been that way for all my time.
'Til forever, on it goes
Through the circle, fast and slow,
I know
It can't stop, I wonder.
Chorus
Yeah!
Chorus
Have You Ever Seen The Rain?***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v;=xDGuyGPJ_JE
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
She called me
She called me
a little *****
in which five knuckles
and four spaces
were the only faces
that ever turned a light on for me.
Or off, as a matter of fact.
Write it on a flier, or
tie her up in the back of a limousine,
ask her to give you some sugar
and send you to sleep.
Just don't be weird about it.
And seriously,
pay attention,
you just might
burn something.
I think my voice is changing.
I press four fingers into my forehead
and smoke a cigarette like that one writer
I was too cool to ever read. You know,
they treat you like a ******** drug?
A ******** drug!
Past lovers,
and their coat hangars,
I don't wanna talk to 'em,
I don't wanna touch 'em.
But I do;
it's easy to cut into
those veins once you've
found 'em.
*I'm sorry,
so prone
to wasting time,
I love when my head
spins on an axis
all of its own.*
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
#I'm as lonely as a station at night.
The december mist and the moon
peaking high over the iron fence
dulled the low volt into weird halo.
But like bats I reap the rewards of night.
The buzz of the crickets rose in crescendo
from the undergrowths around the track
sounding as unreal as the silent platform
abruptly cropping up on nowhere land
doubtful if ever a train would notice it.
*Days are dull actings dancing to strings
yielding nothing to let you know you.
I'm in full vision before the lightless mirror
opening up alone but with the many faces
the dreary day ruthlessly hid from me.*
The mist was engulfing the iron railings
and when a distant engine whistled
there was no track or platform
but only the lone flyer hung on the moon
like a bat glued to the scent of night.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
A helicopter fashioned
from feathers and fairy dust
buzzed the rioting fuchsia,
Newton's laws upended,
outsmarted,
The ruby-throated flier darted
over and under blossoms,
taking samples
with the lightest touch--
like a visitor from another planet
intending no harm,
then he backed off, surveying,
Lingering in weightlessness,
Suspended in the moment before,
when all is possible,
Poised on the edge of
free fall,
deciding what's next.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
We all know when we are not wanted as it seems that many do,
A jolly up in the town, everyone there but you
Your work mates are friendly but only for the day
Theyve spoke of their home lives and that they think the dog is gay
A bit of what is known as banter wouldn't go a miss
Your mates of old all married now, your still searching for that bliss
Facebook and Twitter can be the final hurrah with pictures of their lives
2 kids and a dog to boot, only way to get them out is a free drink as a bribe
Your best friend and their new found buds, all arms up on that log flume up north
We had days like that at Chessington, 18 and ****** before your kids were spawned
We pretend we live alternative lives, who needs that wholesome charade of a perfection
A City flier, on all the apps, a wit you could not section
You tell the world your happy as, a life now ruled by Tinder
But tell the truth, your home in bed, fish finger sandwich probably from Findus
But it pulls at the heart, those pictures of happiness and a life that you thought was right
I'll get there someday, just ignoring the now, I'll say it again,
Thanks For The Invite
JJB
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
Offense is a proud, pretty bird
preening her feathers just so,
resplendent in attire
crested and crowned
looking down over the world
without warning,
the wind dares to
tousle her hair--
affection between
connected hearts, between
friends, between
the flier and the flight
the bird shrieks
at her ruffled feathers,
the caring gesture,
and the good intent.
she broods
she resents
and she preens
when she is ready,
the wind does not come.
she shrieks at its absence
as she did at its presence,
but she can't put her pretty feathers to use
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
Deep where the Sun lies
flies, and then in its parade dies
into the dark under mass
the cloaked ritual of time
that hovers upon the boundaries
the songs of the ages.
Where glint to eye
that inward sigh, the cry
that tormented deep holds its bar
far, upon the trilogy of the lost
Gods that made and paid the cost
of frequent flier miles.
Shadows creep, leap
where the distinction arises
surprises the mornings jolt
that rides the long encounter
where cold the steel bears the fascination
of the chambered game
twirling, revolving, frame by frame
where the poker hand falls to the colt.
Triggered, offset,
the bang of the aeons arises, surprises
and dropping like the shadow he was
the smoking barrel
the drawn out look
pages from a tormented novel
that lay in a hovel
there on the floor.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 10:03 AM UTC
^¡^
^¡^
^¡^
Plain and brown
Ubiquitous
Seen yet never seen
Like street workers
Or bellhops
Or busboys
Or homeless.
Scrappy little scavengers
Scraping out a small lifespan
In cracks of concrete
In city streets smelling
Of asphalt and skidmarks.
They hop along
Like yesterday's newspaper
Or a 5X81/2 inch flier
For last night's bar-band.
Dandelion's fluff.
Outside of McDonald's
They congregate competing
With each other for
Hamburger buns which
Cling to cold
Half eaten cheeseburgers.
Greasy french fries
Which cause congestion
In their legs so severe
That they shrivel up
And fall off.
Yet God sees every one
Of them. Loves them.
His eye is always on them.
They do not fall
From the branch
Without being
Counted.
A freedom we
Will never know
Is their portion.
They are unencumbered
By the ground
While we are
It's slaves.
Their 🎶🎶🎶
Tells us we will
Always be thus.
We will always envy
The soul of sparrows.
Write of Passage aka
SoulSurvivor
2022
Aug 29, 2022
Aug 29, 2022 at 3:51 AM UTC
baby, I’m a ********* for your love
baby, I’m a lover of your soul
baby, I’m a crawler to your door
baby, I’m a flier on your wings
I’m a crier of my tears
baby, I’m a sinner
I can’t win
baby, I’m addicted to your love
baby, I’m a lost soul
and baby, you’ve found me
baby, I’m an old woman
but baby, you know me
baby, I’m a crashed car
and baby, you’re my saving grace
I’m falling hard
and baby I’m hoping you’ll catch me
you already have a million times
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 12:55 AM UTC
A grey goose above me
Calls strident-high,
Alone and looking down,
While I walk toward the lake,
Looking up to find
His silhouette against gray sky.
We're miles from town
On a middling winter day,
Shortest hours of light
Within the year.
We two are lonely here.
Skies gray promise
Neither rain nor snow;
A warming wind is blowing;
Perhaps the silver skiff
Will melt again,
And let the grey flier in.
Where are his loved ones?
I'd like to know;
And why he flies alone,
Scanning from his skimming height,
And yet I think I know.
I used to hunt his kind,
To lie in wait beneath a blind,
And rise to meet
Descending flocks,
Wings set,
Until I knew
The goose I'd brought
To ground
And the goose above
Remained inseparable,
One mate for life,
Death do them part,
And after, live alone.
A chill is setting in tonight,
And I am heading home;
A fire and my wife waiting.
Some comfort as the evening ends
I hope the grey one finds,
In the company of friends...
I'd see he weren't alone,
If I could make amends.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
Y-acht walks around the blue sphere
O-nly yearns, not just to wander
U-ntil it finds a place sung home
D-eep it goes above the water
O-n the welkin filled with flier
N-ever ceases crawling in
O-h, home, so far, where you've been?
T-ill it meets the amity within
B-ut, home is near yet it is distant
E-ven afar from land, and near to alone
L-eft is regret, a yacht of uncertainty
O-h, why do I belong not?
N-owhere, do I belong in?
G-uess, because I'm just a yacht
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
I awoke to
what I thought was a
Friday.
Or maybe it was
Sunday,
the days ran
closer together
as I paled in the
dark.
The black cat
purred at my side.
I starred up at the
blades of the ceiling
fan as
they slowly sliced
through the musky air.
This movement caused
the dust motes to flee
through a single bar
of sunlight that
had somehow broke through
the shades I thought
I closed tight enough
to **** the day away.
I reached out careful
not to disturb the cat
and grabbed something
deadly to smoke on.
I began the chase
and regretted it almost
instantly.
I knew all of this
would have to
end soon and more
than likely
end hard in order
for me to began
anew.
My world had
become cruel
nor joyous,
all remained as
random as
these words
that dance to the music
in my head.
I sat up on the
edge of the
rumpled bed,
the cats emerald eyes
stared at me
through sleepy blinks.
I made my way through the
tiny hurricane
of swirling
dust motes
and ****** smoke,
each step lighter than
the next.
I let loose the
shades and winced
at the light of
day.
The outside world
was changing
and a trapped
painted lady
fluttered around
the inside
of the window seal.
I took this as
yet another sign
from the Gods
of the impending
changes that were sure
to come.
I opened the window
and the lost night flier
took to the day.
And I felt death
in the air and *****
in my blood and
couldn't help but
smile.
It takes an
ending and
I knew my
ending would'nt
come any time
soon.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
My wires are
tangled up
Strangled up
And tied tight
To the chains
Keeping me down
Its time
I know
I saw the flier
Time to
Get some pliers
**** this wire
Disconnected
But the freedom
Feels too good
To go back
I wont go back
Never again
Cant hold me down
These scars
Burned on by
Hot wires strangling
While I was dangling
Above the surface
No arms
To catch me
Twisted
Red to black
Blue to yellow
Orange to white
Wrong, wrong, wrong
Get your head
******* on right
**** these wires
And your jeans
On fire
Cause you’re the liar
While I fought
But im done
I wont go back
I wont feel that
No going back
im too wired
to look back
just head forward
dont look back
chin up straight
blood is pumping
time for something
Oct 26, 2011
Oct 26, 2011 at 11:43 PM UTC
This is not a poem
This is a revelation of self
This is me finding the staples that tighten my skin so that I can finally look like
a man
I know this
I love to share what makes me feel good
Especially people
I want you to feel good
I know
That I am afraid to take showers
Because the moment the water starts running there is nothing to distract my
thoughts
I can stand in the tub for days and never get wet
I know
That so many pieces of my heart
Are in way too many back pockets
My love is like a dime store flier
Beggin’ you to throw it away
Go ahead take a number
I’ll never really be whole anyway
This is not a poem
This is a revolution
Where I finally protest my body like a seizure
And give up on my heartbeat that’s beggin’ you to put your hand on my bare chest again
I know this
I am not characterized by the cancer that I thought once wanted to **** me
And I am not some cutting board
This skin is too calloused to be back stabbed again
And I will no longer stay up nights waiting for anyone to love me
And I am not
And never was
Made of anything designed by God
I know
that if you want me too
I will love you forever
And I know how to hold a grudge just as long
Like an egg on the end of a spoon in a one-man relay race
This is not a poem
This is me
Finally putting together the patchwork
And replacing the stuffing
Double stitched
so that I will not fall apart again
Jun 15, 2011
Jun 15, 2011 at 1:30 AM UTC
I'm in the branches as they
No longer look up, heads always
Looking at the floor looking
Downcast
Heavyhearted
Gloomy
At what you see everyday
You look down never up,
The children always look upwards
See me smiling,
I give a little wave
And a wink,
And I'm off up the tree with in a blink
Trees are my freedom
There my playground between
Sky
Air
&
Land
"I am an acrobat, a flier"
I'm free as a bird but with out the wings,
If the elders looked up the things
That they would see,
The sky is imagination,
"It will set you free"
But it is only the young
Who above do look, as there imagination
Lets them see what they want to see
And what they glance at is me..
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
*the flier in me is not a fly in the ointment
the flier in me daily basks in ambient glory
the flier in me is a hopeful at your door
waiting to be puzzled by you, the enigma
and betimes be indulged with some attention
the flier in me glitters and sparkles truly
because you're the source of my highness
i rise into the sky and soar into the universe
propelled by the image of your birthday suit
that reminds me that that's the natural thing
to be; naked and noble like a new creation
so there i go again flapping flimsy wings
that nobody sees; feeling like old-time magic
i want to thank you prompt of my quests
i want to thank you agitator of my longing
i want to thank you lovely seer and siren
i thank you for these blossoms open in me
i thank you for teaching me to fly like a bird
straight into the shelter of your cuddly nest
where i shall be anchored in calm waters
and soon rinsed in a cascading shower of bliss
my sweet seer and siren, i promise you this:
i shall be true though my wings should melt
as did the wings of hapless ikaros the greek*
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 3:45 AM UTC
I dig my teeth into the grass
my nails in the dirt,
trying to never leave our garden of Eden.
But I've over stayed my welcome or so I'm told.
You say my frequent flier miles are too much to cash in.
you say my love will dissipate,
cease to exist
that's only something you don't wish to know.
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 6:30 AM UTC
Then this academic high-flier, Little Miss Sunshine, who was very clearly an endless faucet of happiness and fulfilment... she took her own life just a month after getting the exam results of her dreams. In her good-bye note she said she wasn't miserable- and I honestly don't believe that she was- but that, at eighteen years, she was absolutely sure she had had a good life already and didn't want to spoil that with a bad back and divorce.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
You are a frequent flier,
On a plane made out of glass,
And if lightning is the truth,
You fly low to let it pass.
Advertised as "together",
Destination: to our dream,
Yet whilst I sleep so peacefully,
You know not all is as it seems,
Then when the truth does find you,
And shatters you apart,
Remember as you tumble high,
Your vessel also holds my heart.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 7:02 PM UTC
Feeling deathly
Dearly or Darely
The fresh
Prince air
Royalty flew________->> her ear
Losing my wing
Tight hug hold- bearing
Seat me ((The Group))
The fruit loops caring
Jefferson Airplane______*
The rain in
Spain
Graphically
Airbrushed
Shes the marvel
of comics flight book
How you used
to travel no
panics or air
fanatics
I was his carvel___*
to the top
He's mainly for me
Hey! don't cop
out on me____#
My mind isn't
any number
Deli take out
Scared my wits out
He's a flight low
feeling brain____ dead
Ah! Vey is that so?
Ring around to
ears of corn
I met Rosy
Some writer's
block
The ear revolves
around wake up clock
So many planes
crashed
Remembering Mom
Saying here's the
airplane
Feeding
The code yellow
She's the alert me- red
The dead weight of air
In retrospect
The plane on air--- pop
Shes so retro on
the go non-stop
This is dedicated to
the one I love
He's the frequent flier
Come-back< Go- Foward>
the landing
The Godly sending
toward me
But the butterflies
Got the pilot___ cockpit*
Dunkin Donuts
Spilled the beans
Hitman
Macadamia Hawaii
I welcome you nuts
Rose blossom Japan
trees escalate
Bali Islander Barista (Cafe)
She was wearing
her lucky red-
Long earful (Giraffe)
Speak up we need
more ears were short
Did you hear me?
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
I want to speak to you like a bonfire
To simmer away the cold that sits underneath your skin
To call back the hairs that stand on end
And to sit with you- content
I want to speak to you like a bonfire
To seep into your dark places and glow with your strong temperature
To burn away lifeless bits and be your light fixture
And give a gleam of those strangers that can change into treasure
I want to speak to you like a bonfire
The pop of these embers like the embarrassed embrace flight
This circle of eyes is also for you tonight
So look into this flickering might
And transform your gaze into sight
I want to sing with you like a bonfire
Let all shadows become playful with dancing
Spark a kindness like its fancy
Look into the eyes of another high flier
And share the warmth of a billowing bonfire
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC