"jetliner" poems - Hello Poetry

i love that sound a wind walks by and stirs the trees that rushing breathing sound the leaves make as the branches are swayed in the wind i love the many voices of daylight a lawnmower and childrens laughter birds chattering a small plane boiling overhead pulling a sign for some event i love the sound of summer i love its taste ice cold soda when your sitting on hot pavement the texture of a overcooked hotdog at a ballpark i love the taste of your lips while you are sunbathing sweat and sunscreen are an ****** mix i love how summer tastes to my mind it feels young it tastes free i reach up with incredible grace ****** the contrail from that jetliner far overhead and tie it into a ribbon for your hair there you go my lovely you are a young french princess of the world i love your taste most of all you taste like love to me

0

May 15, 2014

May 15, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC

mark-john-junor-1

sweat and sunscreen

i love that sound a wind walks by and stirs the trees that rushing breathing sound the leaves make as the branches are swayed in the wind i love the many voices of daylight a lawnmower and childrens laughter birds chattering a small plane boiling overhead pulling a sign for some event i love the sound of summer i love its taste ice cold soda when your sitting on hot pavement the texture of a overcooked hotdog at a ballpark i love the taste of your lips while you are sunbathing sweat and sunscreen are an ****** mix i love how summer tastes to my mind it feels young it tastes free i reach up with incredible grace ****** the contrail from that jetliner far overhead and tie it into a ribbon for your hair there you go my lovely you are a young french princess of the world i love your taste most of all you taste like love to me

26

Imagine getting on a big jetliner for a holiday & your flight strays near Russia with Putin at the helm. Not a comforting thought, huh?

0

Jul 21, 2014

Jul 21, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC

jonny-angel

Putin At The Helm

Imagine getting on a big jetliner for a holiday & your flight strays near Russia with Putin at the helm. Not a comforting thought, huh?

8

Dear jetliner, take me away from the pain, take me to a whole new world for awhile - because I ain't running, I just need a weekend off. Where I can breathe, and stop swallowing my pride. Too much to handle, too much at once

0

Apr 29, 2015

Apr 29, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC

Reisedvngill

Dear jetliner,

Dear jetliner, take me away from the pain, take me to a whole new world for awhile - because I ain't running, I just need a weekend off. Where I can breathe, and stop swallowing my pride. Too much to handle, too much at once

9

two doves fly across perfect silent unison a jetliner screams

0

Feb 20, 2016

Feb 20, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC

timothy-ward

Man-made Mockery

two doves fly across perfect silent unison a jetliner screams

3

how I know we will make love someday / primal2 whatever you think of overwhelming distance, thick black lined international boundaries, no Westerly wind, snow binding, winter blinding, can forbid the innate desired connectivity, the eye locking messaging, the shared shards of losses cumulative, that we alone can relieve/repair I will travel by jetliner, car, to unpack you from snowdrifts, write quatrains upon your eyes, elegies on your lips, epic poems using every body space possess-able, asking for nothing in return, for living is hard enough, no need for quid pro quo bargaining do not ask what am I to you, resist classification, place me not, no slot, no rowed field, under closed eyes remember, recall, better the butter of love and loss, which I’ll take and also leave, summer spreads and relishes kitchen canned for next year’s winter did you know, of course not, my name is Mordecai,^ the same who, was Vizier to Darius and Xerxes I, meaning pure myrrh and master of languages, but this is not the time/place, my secrets two, to give away, and yet forbear, you may ask questions that no sensible human answers** honestly but I have, and will do so again, against all odds, we will compose original numbers, all prime, all natural occurring, divisible, yes, but only by the number itself and the number 1, 1, a number that answers: the equation, the prime ideal, why only 1 + 1 equals: primal 2 ~ it takes one to create two

0

Jan 27, 2020

Jan 27, 2020 at 9:34 PM UTC

left-foot

How I know we will make love someday/primal2

how I know we will make love someday / primal2 whatever you think of overwhelming distance, thick black lined international boundaries, no Westerly wind, snow binding, winter blinding, can forbid the innate desired connectivity, the eye locking messaging, the shared shards of losses cumulative, that we alone can relieve/repair I will travel by jetliner, car, to unpack you from snowdrifts, write quatrains upon your eyes, elegies on your lips, epic poems using every body space possess-able, asking for nothing in return, for living is hard enough, no need for quid pro quo bargaining do not ask what am I to you, resist classification, place me not, no slot, no rowed field, under closed eyes remember, recall, better the butter of love and loss, which I’ll take and also leave, summer spreads and relishes kitchen canned for next year’s winter did you know, of course not, my name is Mordecai,^ the same who, was Vizier to Darius and Xerxes I, meaning pure myrrh and master of languages, but this is not the time/place, my secrets two, to give away, and yet forbear, you may ask questions that no sensible human answers** honestly but I have, and will do so again, against all odds, we will compose original numbers, all prime, all natural occurring, divisible, yes, but only by the number itself and the number 1, 1, a number that answers: the equation, the prime ideal, why only 1 + 1 equals: primal 2 ~ it takes one to create two

29

An alusive light that enters The windows of a jetliner A pack of wolves strapped in And ready for takeoff And I—amongst them, their own— Fly to an unknown destination There I sit—reclined, yet tense— As the flight weighs on my soul The howls overtake the aircraft As the moon arrives and makes Its sultry—and swift—anticipated entry But there I see no more stars They vanished—one by one, Who am I?—Who is manning this Aircraft—and I wake, To a cup of coffee and a biscuit I have landed—that at least, But no amount of luggage That passes by my aged eyes Are mine—yet all yours I look frantic—as I seek you, But then I remember— As you vanish in the distance, Your memory is all I brought with me Paradise, 2018

0

Oct 23, 2018

Oct 23, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC

ys

(33) Wolves

An alusive light that enters The windows of a jetliner A pack of wolves strapped in And ready for takeoff And I—amongst them, their own— Fly to an unknown destination There I sit—reclined, yet tense— As the flight weighs on my soul The howls overtake the aircraft As the moon arrives and makes Its sultry—and swift—anticipated entry But there I see no more stars They vanished—one by one, Who am I?—Who is manning this Aircraft—and I wake, To a cup of coffee and a biscuit I have landed—that at least, But no amount of luggage That passes by my aged eyes Are mine—yet all yours I look frantic—as I seek you, But then I remember— As you vanish in the distance, Your memory is all I brought with me Paradise, 2018

25

On the hill, I stand, looking over city lights, the false constellations shine, drowning out true stars bright. The red serpent travels between, flashing here and blinking there, an uninterrupted trip, but never going anywhere. Gold and green sparkles, changing at planned intervals, in one spot a swirling circle, spinning pure centrifugal. Looking up now at the noise, and more lights streaming by, the jetliner move in slow motion, disappears into grounding skies.

0

May 10, 2019

May 10, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC

jed-johnson

City Lights and Skies

On the hill, I stand, looking over city lights, the false constellations shine, drowning out true stars bright. The red serpent travels between, flashing here and blinking there, an uninterrupted trip, but never going anywhere. Gold and green sparkles, changing at planned intervals, in one spot a swirling circle, spinning pure centrifugal. Looking up now at the noise, and more lights streaming by, the jetliner move in slow motion, disappears into grounding skies.

16