"parachuting" poems
how it descends
parachuting an
expansive heart,
soft whose arrows are...
to get drenched
is our choice, not
the sky's victory
or defeat; bliss...
a bridge betwixt
ether, earth, of a
peacock's throat,
dripping song...
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 9:41 AM UTC
Chorus
Watch me fly
Let me fly away
As the bird
I take a flight away
Verse 1
In the still, silence pervades
No reminiscence of a past gone away
You watched me talk,
Then I lost all my words you waved
Goodbye, sad goodbyes
In the caves, the echo of my voice pollutes
It’s in the when, the how all the where
Verse 2
In the fields, I withered as the crops bloomed
No remembrance of a past erased
You heard me beg,
As I lost all the will to live but die
The pointed fingers on my being
In the brave, I took the shield and guarded up
It’s the now, the never ending paths
Bridge
Parachuting from the skies
The distance is to high
But I trust the safety net
The hailing jet
I wear the sailing zest
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 8:32 AM UTC
If I had not met the red-haired boy whose father
had broken a leg parachuting into Provence
to join the resistance in the final stage of the war
and so had been killed there as the Germans were moving north
out of Italy and if the friend who was with him
as he was dying had not had an elder brother
who also died young quite differently in peacetime
leaving two children one of them with bad health
who had been kept out of school for a whole year by an illness
and if I had written anything else at the top
of the examination form where it said college
of your choice or if the questions that day had been
put differently and if a young woman in Kittanning
had not taught my father to drive at the age of twenty
so that he got the job with the pastor of the big church
in Pittsburgh where my mother was working and if
my mother had not lost both parents when she was a child
so that she had to go to her grandmother's in Pittsburgh
I would not have found myself on an iron cot
with my head by the fireplace of a stone farmhouse
that had stood empty since some time before I was born
I would not have traveled so far to lie shivering
with fever though I was wrapped in everything in the house
nor have watched the unctuous doctor hold up his needle
at the window in the rain light of October
I would not have seen through the cracked pane the darkening
valley and the river sliding past the amber mountains
nor have wakened hearing plums fall in the small hour
thinking I knew where I was as I heard them fall
1.8k
Rinsing over porcelain skin
Skin still too pale for the end of summer
Washing, cleansing, every curve, every bend
Water droplets gather in pools around my unpainted toes
Parachuting raindrops released from freshly-trimmed ends
Of hair that will soon disappear
Naked green eyes clear of disoperation
Gaze at the foreignness of this summer waterfall.
I part my lips to taste the mountain air
Condensed into a life source
Icy in July, fresher than filtered
A German Shepard gazes at my silhouette
Caramel and black, fur bristling with excitement
With kind brown eyes
Sparked with curiosity,
Lapping the water with his pink tongue.
Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 12:03 PM UTC
When I was a student in science class learning the nine planets
I used to imagine that Jupiter was in love with Saturn.
That's how I made sense of the rings.
Planetary engagement.
In every diagram they were always side by side
and so much larger than their counterparts.
Just like lovers with chests stuck out,
swelling from the size of the love they've got stuck in their ribcage.
We all know that couple.
Just rubbing it in.
That was Saturn and Jupiter. In my head.
As I imagined them. So big.
And vibrant.
And gay.
Until I learned about orbit.
Look, I just flew over the city of your residence.
If you looked up you might've seen me.
I'm going to pretend I saw you from here-
I'm still at this end of the telescope and you're still an astrological body.
In all my metaphors you're unearthed, capable of flight,
solar panel lighthouse, walks on moon water, astronaut trainer in training,
gentle giant with kite string hair, earthquake arms, and lunar eyes.
You always leave your light on.
At least for me. Even though we've learned to keep good distance.
Passing each other in the dark night of the solar system.
The wings of this plane are stronger than me.
Luckily.
Cause it was all I could do to keep from parachuting my way back into your sight-lines.
You know, there's a red spot on Jupiter the width of three Earths.
THREE EARTHS!
Scientists at the University of California, Berkeley, want us to believe
that it's actually an ancient monster storm.
I'm still not entirely convinced that it's not a broken heart.
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 5:41 AM UTC
Spolied circle stuck rotating
pulsating
to the beat of a drummer
that plays music
even he won’t listen to.
Parachuting little yellow spheres
Tuned in to ****** pop songs
Rubbing out unpleasant thoughts
with cheap wine.
Waking up to sweat-soaked sheets
and a bitter taste on your tongue.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
pulse and pump and waterwheel cascade of sparks from a hot iron rivet
bound round with copper sliding down river and parachuting into the blackest of holes dug out for the ounce of gold rumoured to still be somewhere at the bottom while fish jump willingly into the net Jesus encouraged fishermen to cast and a woman gives birth in the taxi ride to the counting house of names and addresses knowing there is no room at the homeless hostel because there is a card game going on in town and every hotel is booked up to the hilt with cowboys thinking my lucky day has come spitting out a ship made of spittle and stinking chewing tobacco that sails around the world full of tourists
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Watch out for the jackal.
A Joker.
I don't like to play games.
This is serious follow the clues.
The stepping stones line the path.
Through the meadow and the prairie.
Galloping stallions.
Twirling battalions.
Shiny medallions.
A whiny dalmatian.
A quarreling nation.
What is the logic?
Chirping frogs.
Daddy long leg spiders.
That sit down beside her.
A messed up mind.
A senseless theory.
A confusing plot.
Without any thought.
What was I thinking?
If I remember it wouldn't matter?
Really?
Of course not.
Absolutely not.
Giggling girls.
Gossiping & copying.
Stealing each others cosmetics, boyfriends,
money, CDs, DVDs, jet ski's,
Mountain climb.
Scuba dive.
Snorkel.
Hot air ballooning.
Hang gliding.
Bungee jumping.
Parachuting.
Water skiing.
Boogie boarding.
Dune buggy racing.
Ice skating.
Roller coaster.
Merry go round.
Ferris wheel.
A maze of fun.
Build a sandcastle.
Build a Snowman.
Make a snow angel.
Collect seashells.
Or sea glass.
Pearls.
Fly a kite.
1,2,3 go.
Wash, rinse, & repeat.
Step, shuffle, step.
Destiny
Harmony
Star
Karma
Ruby
Aqua
Moon
Rainbow
Trinity
Phebe
Ariel
Glow
Diamonds
Cool water
Vanilla fields
Charm
Dessert
Fantasy
Perfume
Fragrance
Delightful & frightful.
Neat & sweet & discreet.
Charming & disarming.
Meet & greet.
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 5:40 PM UTC
Calico drones line fences and gates
resurrected from old motherboards.
Iron and silicone in contrast with
the decrypted analog sound bites
made from mothers tears.
The lucky village idiots
smoke chloroform cigarettes.
And they all miss the carnage.
The unlucky idiots smoked anything
they could get their grubby lips on.
To be wakeful in the womb of schism
seems far more terrifying than parachuting.
But jump away little one,
for fear will make you mad
or it will make you stronger.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
There I was standing above her top lip,
I waited for the first sign of when they'd open again.
I never parachuted before and figured that it'll be fun.
Parachuting into each word that came from her mouth.
Then came my chance.
Soon as she spoke I leaped off her top lip face first.
I couldn't begin to explain how I felt,
Closing my eyes.
Feeling her breath caress the sides of my face.
Never having done this before I didnt know exactly when to pull the shoot.
Instead I fell.
I fell perhaps farther than I ever could have imagined.
Clinging on to every word that came from the lips I've grown to love.
From every book I've read it was understood that love was kind, patient.
Never at all was it suppose to hurt.
And here I am.
Plummeting to my death with a parachute that I had no idea how to open
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 9:48 PM UTC
The Octopi Jars
by Michael R. Burch
Long-vacant eyes
now lodged in clear glass,
a-swim with pale arms
as delicate as angels'...
you are beyond all hope
of salvage now...
and yet I would pause,
no fear!,
to once touch
your arcane beaks...
I, more alien than you
to this imprismed world,
notice, most of all,
the scratches on the inside surfaces
of your hermetic cells...
and I remember documentaries
of albino Houdinis
slipping like wraiths
over the walls of shipboard aquariums,
slipping down decks'
brine-lubricated planks,
spilling jubilantly into the dark sea,
parachuting through clouds of pallid ammonia...
and I know now in life you were unlike me:
your imprisonment was never voluntary.
Originally published by Triplopia and The Poetic Musings of Sam Hudson. Keywords/Tags: Octopus, Octopi, Medusa, Sea Angel, Angel, Angels, Nature, Sea, Ocean, Aquarium, Aliens, Imprisonment, Prison, Ship, Ships, Shipwreck
Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 4:20 AM UTC
finally
a moment
comes
delicately
to sit
relaxed
in quiet
peace.
I close my eyes
to hear
what is in the silence.
beautiful summer rain
soaking
the trees
an the old metal roof
sings along
with unusual songbirds
this year
creaky aluminum
bends in temperature changes
a door sways
back an forth
gentle rhythms
all together
a benevolent band
wet parachuting droplets
bursting on impact,
a soft howling wind
accompanying
their tune.
my ears hummmm..
with vibrations,
apparently
I only hear
when I listen
so intently to life.
which is something
I need to do more often
to be honest
amongst the utter
chaos an confusion
I am currently in.
contentedness for me
is a destination I seek.
it is then-
it is then when I find my ZEN,
where I can honestly be
I honestly am
appreciative
for even
the pain
that I have felt.
that I've endured.
that I have persevered over.
why?
you might wonder?
I think it is simple-
cumulus clouds provide rain,
rain provides water,
water is life.
I am water,
an therefore
I wish to be.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 8:17 AM UTC
I send up my prayer at rocket speed
and the answer parachutes down sedately,
-in no hurry but at a pace I can accommodate
and my finite self can understand,
while the caresses of peace on my soul,
can last the whole day through.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 12:56 PM UTC
there was a little duck he was very cute.
he just long to jump with a parachute
high up in the sky from a great big plane
jump in to the air to the ground again
he booked himself a flight at the airfield show
took along his parachute so he could have a go
boarded on the plane for his little quest
ready for his jump he would do his best
high up in the air the plane began to fly
high above the clouds way up in the sky
then the doors were open it was time to go
duck he did his jump to the ground below.
opened up his chute very big and wide
through the sky above he began to glide
looking at the view and all the scenary
duck he was so happy flying wild and free
he landed in field now his jump was done
he enjoyed is challenge it gave him so much fun
folded up his chute very nice and neat
his dream it had come true and made his day complete
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 10:16 AM UTC
A*ll this feels like a dream,
us, parachuting a free-fall
from the sky and
down on a slippery
and spiral down hills
overnight.
I never imagined though
that warm and ignited flame
dies so quickly, and we’d
come to this dead-end
but time reveals the truth
hidden away
from your eyes
when two equal souls
just fall apart in silence.
The day the sky clears
and the sun fully shines,
the grasp of reality
changes to illusion
because, all that remains
now is the broken promises
once made in bright day light.
*
Jobiranyc (10/22/2018)
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
"Don't you think those shorts are too short for you?"
He says
He dictates my decisions
And like a puppet master
He forces his will inside my body
Hollows out my soul
To make room for his own desires
Carves out my humanity to make me a puppet
A play toy
An objectification
While still saying "I love you."
With broken wings
I feel so low
The blade a reminder
This is no nightmare, this is reality
And the only dreams I have anymore
are "Why am I still here?"
The escape is subtle
How I survived
The suffocating blanket of "no more"
Parachuting away from your curly hair
And hands that mimic: thief
When my body, is a no trespassing sign
And I finally respect that law
Too late, the walls are peeling
Insides decaying
A lost building
Not taken care of
When will the demolition begin?
Mother nature finds her decay
Caresses her vines around her broken frame
Pulling her down, but inward
Trying to rescue her from the enemy: man
She develops a fear
Her shyness morphed
Into distrust
She stumbles for a tomorrow
Watching for the spears of remembrance
That lurk
In her reflection
The subtle tea of time and books
Help her
Physics and light shows
Burning glass and cloud towers
The amnesia dissipates
The hate remains
But behind so many walls
You find her
The man who speaks the language of my mind
With shaking fingers
And adamant statements that I'm not damaged goods
You place the straw back
In this scarecrow body
You find my heart
I forgot I had one in the first place
You adorn me with your smiles
Grace me with acceptance
And tell me "You look cute in those shorts."
#love #suicide #sad #anger #life #heart #pain
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
He took to parachuting because it, along with sailing and aviation,
is one of the more reasonable paths to self-destruction.
The bottle, the pistol, poetry; all vices.
Diseases, in fact.
But passion, it’s the stuff of living.
Besides, hurling oneself toward Earth and family is the clearest loyalty.
Who can hate something that, after clawing its way toward the heavens,
throws itself back toward the less perfect?
Who can hate something that fights its way to the verge of Eden,
a breath shy of immortality,
and instead reaches and jumps toward the lower, screaming atmosphere?
Fighting for life has become the only virtuous path away from it.
Living is the only proper way to die.
So, he took to hurling.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
I know how hard it is to feel without being felt;
what it's like to look out a window and not see the beautiful view;
to only see yourself jumping.
I know what it is like to be the broken chair in disguise
that everyone thinks is just fine to sit on;
to be the broken egg fallen from the tree while all the sparrows fly.
I am the dandelion in the middle of the field of grass, yet I am the only **** picked.
The world is parachuting through clouds while I sky-dive, free-falling,
into the dirt.
Free, free, free to change anything...
But unable to cope with a thing out of place;
able to dream and do whatever you wish...
but unable to do anything.
I love you so much because you are my mirror;
I love you so much to help.
If you stare long enough at your own brilliance,
it will scar like the sun on your eyes,
and you will see its technicolor splotching
everywhere you look.
Know it is okay to cry but know when it is time to get up;
know it is okay to be sad but know when it has been enough.
You think you can't do it, but you do not know,
and I promise I know that you can.
You just need a hand to help you stand up.
And I hope that this poem can be that hand for you.
Or maybe it won't mean **** I don't know.
But I know you're reading this and you're thinking,
what the hell does she know?
Look forward, not down, and be who you are
and do not give a ****
The right people will love you because you will love yourself.
Develop your wingspan and refuse to flee;
fly and be free.
And you will soar into the sky and be as beautiful as you always wished.
Just remember to always come back down and give a hand to those on the ground.
And maybe write a poem.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 5:33 PM UTC
Wind tumbles leaves from their branches
Like a hatchling from its nest
Sometimes nature's like an alarm
Pushing us from rest
But one thing I have learned from this
Is that the world knows what it's doing
It gives a little shove when needed
And into our future, we're parachuting
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
Try to spit and polish those
old braces, despite prestigious inconsistencies.
New builds for either part shares
or your out landlishly riche are
befuddled social engineering.
What ever happened to the old way
education bringing up the
working classes.
instead of parachuting people in.
Money talks instantly;
no value seen in nurturing development
just sales and free wifi connections
cargo cults to upset Croydon
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
I should be happy
Today was a good day
like objectively a good day
like, on paper, a good day
I should be happy
Today good things happened
better things than yesterday
or last week
or last month
or the last 6 months
I should be happy
But why do I feel like I'm moving my feet through water just to slow them down?
Like I'm looking through cotton just to see where I'm going
Like I'm laughing to prove my smile is bigger than it is
Like even breathing is made harder by the sheet over my lips
parachuting into my mouth with every breath.
I swear
I should be happy
Jul 17, 2022
Jul 17, 2022 at 5:56 AM UTC
On the coldest day
We'll try ice-fishing,
In warm huts
Without winter's sting.
On the snowiest day
We'll try ski-doing
Through bare woods
Leaf-thick in spring.
On clear winter days
Try ice-parachuting,
Skate on ponds,
Wiggle like angels
On our lawns.
Don't sit inside
And fret and mope,
Grab a sled,
Hit the slopes.
Winter activities
Help us cope
Til we break
Winter's back.
Yes,
Til we hear
The final crack.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
hello i am here nothing nothing inside of me no spiders no webs neverlandhas king gone missing andwater runsthe deep
waste telling the peoplewho wait underwater its only an
oz of time until kingdomhas time to be saving
**** thisim saying im going away nothing livesor spells it right no one usesminds lik they deserve to diein
the sun eating checkers dying in
the sun. bridge bent water is under waiting drinking lungs untl they start to panic an beg..mouselife
understreetlights tootpick sword human death in eyes spell backwards what u want to hear straight and empty your veins glowing refill with ice refill with power with hounds and life// hello i am
here nothing nothing was inside of me no spiders no livers no wasteing parachuting into the arms of death spiny leviathin chords with rose lights 4 eyes she is spelling perfectly everything right
the rainbows sleep live hideabove heropen eyes
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC