Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jill Davidson Dec 2011
If we can travel and enjoy and be everywhere
Who is to know where the heart is really?
The heart has eyes, can see, knows the way.
Tempers, tidal waves, tsunamis, towns and cities.

Being in love is the tops, the best, the bounty.
I have found the treasure.
I have swallowed and been swallowed up in it.
This love has taken me.
This love has saved me.
This is me.
I am seeing me again.
Long lost me.

It is nice this fantasy, this feeling, this fortune of love.
This is wondrous, has filled my heart with song.
Has filled my oneness, my ownness, myself with the fountain of youth.
With healing and air.
With heart beats, and blood flow and mind occupying thoughts of meeting
And touching and talking and more.
Warmth
Warming
Wanting more.
I am full where I never knew I was empty.

More of my life has opened up now
More of my fears have been made into nonsense.
For me to want to expand,
Expound,
Expatriate,
For me to fly to experience and to enjoy is proof.
How can this be wrong or unsound or mean or unjust?

My heart, my soul, is wrapped in a warmth that I thought was long lost.
I am in love.
mannley collins Oct 2014
catch a person,
of African/Asian/European/Amerikan/Antipodean extraction,
by the prejudices.
When she/he files a fatuous complaint
at the Court of Human Responsibilities
let him/her board a Plane back to where she/he came from
clutching a Louis Vuiton goody bag full of
strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding
politicians speeches,
and as much moolah as he can carry
and several contracts to appear on reality TV.
Food for the journey will be a Cup of bitter gall
and a rapidly melting Vanilla Ice-Cream
containing at least 20 chemicals that will destroy his/her
ability to synthesise Testosterone.
Inflight entertainment will consist of the oft repeated lies of
all major "religions"spoken in oh so sincere voices,
by old paedophiles wearing bedsheets,
consumed with stupidity
and hatreds that are thousands of years old
******* stewardesses and bottomless stewards
will hand out suicide tablets
with cheery smiles and hearty cries of "Bon Voyage!!
Israel Ortiz Jr Aug 2014
On a JetBlue flight
from NYC
to Miami

Drowning in
my many woes
with inflight

***** and Salsa
music. Just
keep it coming

Senorita. I was
turning it up
before I touched

ground. I was
completely
wasted and had

crashed on the
entire flight. I
guess you ain't

suppose to drink
when you taking
meds and stressed

the hell out, while
traveling to one
of the hottest

places in the
world to party.
I awoke with a

throng in my head
and a wired
flight attendant

poking the hell
out my shoulder.
*****. But somehow

in my confusion
I had lost my
Fedora hat.
Aaron LaLux Feb 2020
So far gone,
leaving behind spent jet fuel & jeweled remnants of memories,
on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me,

gazing out the soft edged rectangular window to my left,
then over to the soft edged Coke bottle model to my right,
which is better I’m confused as to which view I should choose,
both views are cool highly prized self-realized & undefinable,

on a roll so after we change countries to change the weather,
we change clothes to match the country we’re adaptable,
not conditioned to air conditioners we prefer air that’s natural,
our connects are reliable, specs are viable, facts are verifiable,

always well equipped even though we pack light when traveling, must face facts ‘cause we’re verified & the truth’s undeniable,

so we choose to accept this life without a fight,
what film’s on the inflight entertainment tonight,
100s of options to select from hope I choose right,
I pick a good flick to watch with this chic as I wet my appetite,

dinner served soon what’s on the menu this time,
King Salmon arugula salad champagne & cloth napkins,
think we’ll eat & see a film starring one of my best friends,
he’s one of the leads in the film playing one of the X-Men,

my future has passed, been gone since way back when,
I went from hustling on pavements & cuddling in basements,
to my name on gracious invitations to amazing celebrations,
& obtaining the latest coveted creations of our generation,
placement upgraded I now lay in a place that is spacious,

on the top floor of a proper loft with views of the harbor,
not a golfer I don’t golf I find sports outrageous,
no jokes I’m sinking ***** in 3 strokes on Par-4s,
making cut shots not taking gut shots from Haters,

no mugshots the hate must stop success is an art form,
I work around the clock so I deserve this spacious hiatus,
hitting Top Flights with wise guys on Trump’s golf course,
hole in one I’m a Golden Son like Nick Cannon’s kid is,

terms of endearment rules of engagement **** with honor,
tears shed in statements still sad but thank God we made it,

out of the streets & into the seats of private choppers,

we’re done with the stress thanks to blessed chess moves,
we get offered so many options that it’s tough to choose,
flying through the friendly skies First Class,
as beautiful Goddesses like Venus & powerful Gods like Zeus,

we just hold on to sworn untolds & let everything else go,
until our wills give up our bodies fold & we’re cremated,
only thing that hasn’t changed since we’ve made it,
is the bond of our word so you’ll never hear convos restated,

we keep secrets that will never to be repeated ,
we run a tight ship no loose lips or leaks we keep our word,
just saying no statements just lots of amens & payments,
we’ll neither confirm nor deny those rumors that you heard,

most great men make no statements or engage slow agents,
they just make moves & arrangements in Asia like Statesmen,

we go off like the Mossad,
got those that **** caught off guard in a fictitious fog,
so lost they even begin to question our very existence,
no eyewitness our plots are so efficient they can’t see the ball,

suspicious citizens fishin’ for sufficient evidence,
dragging nets coming up empty they get nothing at all,
reporters on a mission to get headlines for the Sunday edition,
but I’ve seen things believe me they don’t want to get involved,

all star star crossed lovers,
all scars dressed in cross colors,
on Heaven’s Cloud 9 hovering in a helicopter,
surfing my brainwaves on a Rusty board as thoughts hover,

he’ll adopt her,
if she’s mean as the streets are still somehow nice & proper,
a marvelous heart stopper, with a solid heart beat bopper,
but if she acts up he won’t hesitate in a heart beat to drop her,
because the mean streets will always be his first lover,

so sick with the business he might need a doctor,
so far gone one what weighs him down isn’t worth the bother,
so far gone on a level so far beyond him that he’s honored,
with the type of resolve that gets all problems solved,
& a secret sauce along with a special recipe that conquers,

upwards & onwards,
a walking palindrome pantomime,
walking backwards I act out words,
& any friend of freedom is a friend of mine that’s a given,
I see the future live in the moment then kick back afterwards,

on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me,
rolling feeling high expressing these blessings in total bliss,
naturally high no cigarettes no alcohol no ******* no ecstasy,
finally “Free at last, free at last, Thank God almighty!”,

we are free at last celebrating like Martin Luther King,
Living the Dream in the fast lane spending Johnny Cash,
in the Fast Lane don’t plan to plane crash so I fly carefully,

Walking The Line,

I’m,
doing fine,
so far gone,

I’m,
a bottom of the 9th,
down by one runner on Home Run,

I’m,
outta here,
en route to a beach,
outta of range & outta reach,
a place where the photogs can’t peek,
not hiding just finding a place we can shine like diamonds,
an island with vibes like the water,
clean crystal clear & stylish,
where we can fully relax,
at ease without fear,
together,
here,

20/20 vision,
so my decisions like my vision are always crystal clear,
crystal clean missiles scream through the star lit night sky,
with a Starlet don’t startle us or confuse our caution as fear,

don’t mistake kindness for weakness & try to take advantage,
or it’ll be “Nice try nice guy, you lose dude maybe next time.”,
no good guys just bad boys living the Good Life,
bad boys with good hearts Tom cruising through Vanilla Sky,

in the air experiencing experiences on the fly,
only spent jet fuel & remnants of memories left behind,
have everything ahead of me, just had to get lost to find,
truth is everything I ever said, all good things in all good time,

see, I’m so far gone, my sweat smells like sweet success,
living my best life, an American Dream in the flesh,
School of Hard Knocks did all my homework took no recess,
now it’s all recess allow me the luxury to reminisce & digress,

if you know how to read between the lines,
then there’s no need for a Reader’s Digest,

if you really what to know I let wealth get to know me,
I don’t work for the money the money works for me,
money doesn’t make the man man makes the money,
if you really want to get things done gotta do it on your lonely,

& when you finally get an opportunity to taste The Good Life,
don’t waste it savor it gently & take it slowly,
enjoy it while you can when you get the chance,
before it’s gone like I am on to the next one & only,

close The Book chapter’s finished on to Destiny’s next story,
done with this dissertation on all The Good Life’s temptations,
where seduction done through Life’s luxuries was my specialty,
had my fun now it’s on to the next one, next destination,

leave this life behind & let my actions & words speak for me,
which is why I leave behind these words as my literary legacy,
see truthfully I’m already so far gone,
leaving behind spent jet fuel & jeweled remnants of memories,

on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me,
full throttle on time like Movado, all shine no bravado,
I swim in more waves than the Royal Navy,

“living la vida loca” no Ricky Martin, my life & my love’s crazy,
gazing lazily out the soft edged window to the left of me,

then over to the soft edged coke bottle model to my right,
if every man’s an island I’m an archipelago & the architect,
Living Artifact, Futuristic Apostle Fossil, Prophetic Autograph,
I collect art & checks such a crazy life I need my head checked,

fossil fuels burn on strong, along with my memories,
so long I’m gone have been for centuries, so far gone,
so when they mention the greats, guaranteed they mention me, remembered in words & songs so the lessons can carry on,

so gone leaving behind only jet fuel & remnants of memories,
because just like now when the end comes I’ll also be gone,
only came here in the first place because they sent for me,
so when I go I will wish you well with a “So long & carry on!”.

So far gone,

on a one way flight with no carry ons,
leaving behind spent jet fuel & jeweled remnants of memories,
on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me...

Δ LaLux Δ

IG: @adreamerinthematrix
From The HH Trilogy Volume 3: Dark Lights & Bright Shadows; by Aaron LaLux
Waiting4TheStop Jan 2015
She is an amazing writer.
A Little One delighter.
And a kick *** demon fighter
When she appears my day gets so much brighter.

Her name, I have discovered, can be used as an acronym for the phrase; Sun And Moon.
When was I hit by this new revelation? Why some day during this week, maybe late afternoon.
I think that it is almost, if not, the perfect way to define what she honestly means to me. Oh how I love my nonbiological big sister; the awesome loon! :D
Seriously! I mean it guys, she is killer! Whackier than the best possible cartoon!
I can tell you guys this one thing.
When she gave me my nickname.
I felt so high, like I was standing on the tip of an inflight airplane wing. 
With a smile that just might put the Cheshire Cats' to shame.
So happy that I wanted to sing.
My heat nearly burst, as if it was an overinflated hot air balloon.
(C) 2014
Jonny Angel May 2014
I'm inflight watching
an old flic,
"The Matrix"
on the overhead screen.
There's a dude snoring
& some chick
eyeballing my lunch.
I have a hunch,
none of this is really happening.
Donall Dempsey Mar 2018
THE YEAR OF THE FIRE
MONKEY

He crossed the border
of who he was.

Smuggling himself
out  into the world.

An illegal self.

So, here he was
at 35,000 feet.

A man with no past.
A man with no shadow.

Inventing who he
could be.

A kind of reincarnation
of personality.

A moment by moment
existence.

Never too sure
who he really was.

Time to be
someone else.

Hiding behind hs
Village People moustache.

He had to laugh.
"Young man...!" he sang.

The inflight movie was
Running with Scissors.

But he wasn't
interested.

"Mmmmmm...little wing
fin...banking?"

7 Down - seven letters.
Beginning with an A....ending in an N.

"Mmmmm!" Again.
And again: "Mmmmmm!"

He glanced out the window
as if the clouds could tell him.

"Aileron!"
he blurted out loudly

startling the portly lady
in the aisle seat

spilling her
black coffee.

A sugar lump
dissolving in her lap.

Staining her pleats.

"Pardon...Madam...Pardon!"
he dabbing at her with a napkin.

She slapping his hand
away.

She reminded him of...who?
Yes...yes...Sidney Greenstreet!

In The Mask of Denitros
from '44 was it?

Her husband( ha ha )a dead
ringer for Peter Lorre.

He a cryptic
crossword of self.

Never too sure
even what the clues meant.

"Dog fight...taking a turn
WW1...to the Max!"

2 across...13 letters.
Beginning with an I....ending in an N!"

Ha...know this one!
WW1 a dead giveaway.

An Immelman turn.

His mind flying now
above the moment.

Coming into land.
"Con mèo....con mèo!"

He repeated and repeated
trying to catch up with his Vietnamese.

Time now

to turn back

Time.
I'll never meet Cronkite,
Monroe, Garbo, Einstein, Epstein,
Bogart, Newman,Truman, but
wish I knew what they knew,
known?
wished I'd known,

tenses and I pretend I know them
but
I haven't got a clue as if you
the last of yesterday
know or knew them too.

All the famous folk
they're gone into that sepia
we see in faded photographs,

no one here today to match them,
I
watch them play on Pathe,
inflight movies on the Cathay
line
even after all this time
they still shine bright
for me
Donall Dempsey Mar 2019
THE YEAR OF THE FIRE
MONKEY

He crossed the border
of who he was.

Smuggling himself
out  into the world.

An illegal self.

So, here he was
at 35,000 feet.

A man with no past.
A man with no shadow.

Inventing who he
could be.

A kind of reincarnation
of personality.

A moment by moment
existence.

Never too sure
who he really was.

Time to be
someone else.

Hiding behind hs
Village People moustache.

He had to laugh.
"Young man...!" he sang.

The inflight movie was
Running with Scissors.

But he wasn't
interested.

"Mmmmmm...little wing
fin...banking?"

7 Down - seven letters.
Beginning with an A....ending in an N.

"Mmmmm!" Again.
And again: "Mmmmmm!"

He glanced out the window
as if the clouds could tell him.

"Aileron!"
he blurted out loudly

startling the portly lady
in the aisle seat

spilling her
black coffee.

A sugar lump
dissolving in her lap.

Staining her pleats.

"Pardon...Madam...Pardon!"
he dabbing at her with a napkin.

She slapping his hand
away.

She reminded him of...who?
Yes...yes...Sidney Greenstreet!

In The Mask of Denitros
from '44 was it?

Her husband( ha ha )a dead
ringer for Peter Lorre.

He a cryptic
crossword of self.

Never too sure
even what the clues meant.

"Dog fight...taking a turn
WW1...to the Max!"

2 across...13 letters.
Beginning with an I....ending in an N!"

Ha...know this one!
WW1 a dead giveaway.

An Immelman turn.

His mind flying now
above the moment.

Coming into land.
"Con mèo....con mèo!"

He repeated and repeated
trying to catch up with his Vietnamese.

Time now

to turn back

Time.
Universe Poems Apr 2022
"Inflight the sky is never far out of sight"

© 2022 Carol Natasha Diviney
Sans Priceless Paternal Experiences
Bequeathed To This Papa From Precious Progeny

The greatest gift cherished, garnered, lamented...,
yet simultaneously recognized as utmost prized
constitutes mine declaration, that both benevolent
daughters (now metaphorically inflight) took wing
to embark upon autonomous paths from shortfall

of figurative feathers, that barely fluffed this
Harris nest, and pridefulness (without prejudice),
(nor sense and sensibility if the Missus intimated),
nonetheless the exponentially lightspeed of time,
(no doubt there exists some algebraic formula)

delineating, how each subsequent year elapses
with mind bend ding rapidity tens, hundreds,
thousands...bajillion of immeasurable powers
greater compared to the buzzfeeding, nodding
off to sleep, plodding ennui during naive boyhood

(mine) lacking foresight to conjecture emotional
state (wreck) walled din within the unsown cerebral
territory now housing a papa poised on the brink
of agonizing awareness catapulting enlightenment
gripping intractably kickstarting mortality. Over

the spate of fatherhood, thy deux delightful
grown girls unwittingly, unstintingly, unpreparedly...
foisted upon the very shaky psychological fountainhead
an absolute birthright (asper begetting said offspring),
whose needs and wants transcended those of this

formerly self oriented dada, who reviews the
trials and tribulations recognizing his niggardly
retention of allowing, enabling, and proffering
the best environment conducive to the mental,
physical, and spiritual well-being concerning

those vulnerable young and restlessness lives.
He writhes with agony, asper the domestic chaos
wrought indelible emotions, some roiling anger
(more so pertaining to the eldest (Eden Liat "star
student") emotionally estranged toward this

parent, whose company she enjoyed playing
at the park, or reveling idling leisure hours oft
times winning at Uno, Sorry, Mancala...(keep
on the queue tee, that such happen to be my intent).
Thank you so much sweet darlings, (which out

pouring of sentiments) initially spurred to
acknowledge the twentieth orbit around the sun
regarding the tender loving caring Shana
Aubrey blessedly teaching unknowingly
your truly ill suited “sir” spending her previous

few birthdays expanding delicate comfort zones
living (by choice and mutual parental consent,
when she hapt to be a minor - and now...owns a heart
of gold), this poor excuse for a father loves
both YOU more than these pitiful words can
broadcast into the ethereal net.

— The End —