"skydiving" poems
The raindrop
Stands alone
Then escapes the cloud
Like a skydiving soldier on mission
Whose face is proud.
It stands alone
In its descent,
Only to embrace the ground
As if it had a hand to hold.
But the earth is dry
And land is cold.
The rain drop is simple
And cool at heart.
Its thoughts so fickle
To make the foolish smart,
Yet I sometimes wonder
Were it sentient would it ponder
The significance of a lifetime between earth and yonder
And the sentiment of finding a purpose fonder.
For we are all like raindrops solitary
With a finite life span, temporary.
Some stand alone, and some find another
To join together and become stronger.
The lonely raindrop stands alone
But every raindrop makes the planet whole.
Mother Earth awakes, smiles at thunder
And says, “Mr. Lonely Raindrop: you have a home.”
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:34 AM UTC
*Your love is like skydiving,
an unnerving thought,
breathless & intoxicating
elevations beyond exhilarating,
as it transforms life's panorama
nothing seemed ever the same,
after the thrill of the fall*
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
Frost forms on the window as I fly away from you,
looking through the crystals to clouds,
imagining falling through frigid air outside,
my faith in a folded parachute to end my flight.
You told me once you’d do it, you’d jump into the sky,
but never for the thrill of risk, only to rescue, to save a life.
I wonder if you see me falling into your eyes,
and in your heart, am I worth a dive
for love, or even friendship’s sake?
Maybe that jump's just a risk you won't take.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
I prefer her
Over the bucket list
Her soft sweet voice
Over the deafening roar
The warmth of her unexpected touch
To the sting of the frigid wind
Hours waiting
Over the free-fall
The view into her blue eyes
Better than all of God’s green Earth
The relationship
Dwarfs the experience
Her smile followed by the laugh
To the cackle of the fat man on my back
Resting in peace facing the sun
Instead of flying alone into the ground
Sharing a drink full of germs
To scraping the dirt when I land
She is exhilarating
But more trustworthy than the fabric and strings
I prefer her
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
When I write,
It is like I am on an adventure,
When I am happy I am drifting down a lazy river,
When I am full of anger I am raging down dangerous rapids,
Crashing into the jagged rocks of my anguish and anxiety
Until finally I reach the river bank and I can rest.
It is like I am scaling Mount Everest,
Each level of creativity is another 100 metres into the sky
Until finally my imagination is at the peak
And my freedom is limitless,
stretching across to the farthest reaches of the horizon
It is like skydiving,
A rush of adrenaline as I plummet towards the ground,
Completely weightless and my mind is racing
Like the air that brushes over my skin
Until I pull the cord and release the parachute,
Safely land on my feet
With a new idea.
It is like a drug,
I am on an all time high,
Hallucinations of what could be,
How something that is far from tangible
Becomes existential,
Then during the come down
I make that dream a reality.
When I write, I feel like myself,
There are too many possibilities
That are still left unmarked on the map of written art.
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
You can assume what you want you're probably right
This is a never ending story
A special heart broke apart is the downside of favoritism
To live today with a awfully wedded wife
Can coincide with the upside to fablism
Can you stand up with or aside a revolution
It's still a time of movement
This is the start of a revolution
In the mind of a mover who constantly dreams of destruction
Fail or win
Now that's its over
You can become addicted to the fact that you want it back
Just that very dream or memory
Can leave you so high
That a skydiving crash would feel like a descent towards pillowed daffodils
Now histamines flare up
Now swollen about to pop
You've never been so high
The perfect quality to qualify the high you have
But quantity Is the one thing no one can grasp
Have none to share none
If you don't have it for yourself first
You can't give something you don't have enough for even yourself
This is the blank meaning for inspiration
For inspiring an unborn child
Maybe it's the missing meaning
Blank blank blank
It still means nothing when nothing is there
So why take this walk
Why write lines the continue to feel like nothing
Why scream on top of the mountain of the faintest echo won't reach the mightiest of ears hearing to tell the world of an achievement
That no one fortunately cares about
An empty sentient being
It's more interpersonal than that
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Questions Please
Put up a question please
Throw me a question please
Question, any question
Burning or sensational
big or small or silly
easy or tough or absurd
hypothetical or factual
All questions are invited.
Only and only questions
No Answers at all
As I already have answers
I have answers to all the questions
that ever existed, but ceased to exist today.
I have the answers to prevailing questions
that are making us crazy day by day
I even have the answers to the questions
which are still in the future's belly
waiting to be born one day
in this beautiful and ugly world
Questions please
All sorts of questions
May be from geography or philosophy
Or from religion to defence studies
It may be from medical science or history
Or from space research too
Animal husbandry is no taboo
Questions on skydiving are also welcome
Politics is my all-time favourite
although I can answer sports or adventure
Questions on corruption are also solicited
You can ask on oceanography or calligraphy too
I know everything, literally everything
but neither I am 'Google' nor 'Bing'
I am not even 'Duck Duck Go'
nor I claim to be 'Baidu'
I guessed your question.
You are wondering – "Who am I?"
It's very-very simple Man!
I am a nasty spokesperson from the ruling party
I may be found mostly in television debates
as a panelist, as a debator, as a joker
as a disturbing element, as a liar
as a person making hue and cries
You may or may not like my answers,
but, please like me, please love me
Raise slogans for me, Praise me
Make me famous, make me a celebrity
But even if you dislike me
I don't care, I have my media
I have my own followers
I also own a troll army
I train them perfectly
I pay them heavily
I spend too much on
News media and Social media
I have my own trustworthy mob
who is always ready for violence
anytime and anywhere
at any cost whatsoever
Beware, I am from the ruling party
I inherit a complete readymade system
of Investigating agencies, Ready to book anyone
on false and frivolous grounds.
And it will take years to prove innocence
Innocence may be proved, may be disproved
This also depends on Money, Power and Links
Or the nasty arithmetic of alliance with us in future
So if you still chose to dislike me
It's your choice, but wait
I can still become a minister
Or even a prime minister
I have the quality to lure voters
I have the answers to all the questions
That ever existed or are existing
Or that are stilling waiting to be born.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 2:16 AM UTC
When you're falling,
the wind is like an accomplice
that will tell onlookers that you're only crying
because it's battering your eyes.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 1:40 AM UTC
"It scares me
how much I don't care
about the consequences
of falling for you,
when I know it's skydiving
without a parachute."
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 3:14 AM UTC
Everyday’s affliction with what we know is missing
Countless moments wishing that fishing was as simple as whistling
Remembering that willows wither in winters un-warmed
and wandering wonders willfully repose when rivaled against ripening woes
Come closer potential memories of exposes’
Clothes skydiving with expectations of faceplanting into the floor
Lady classifications disguise the actions depicting a *****
Heaping hopefuls cascade over glistening gazes that persuade the perilous to lay dormant
Come closer to the oops
That second guess in the back of your head that taps the shoulder and says go
That same go that was an initial no and now corruption has spidered the criteria
It seems the cat may have found the trick to the ball of yarn
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 10:26 PM UTC
Illusions of skydiving in a kimono
are not nightmares that awaken her
in a sweat each night
Fantasies of floating like a drone
creep into morning daydreams
Unprepared for make-believe
no kimono hangs in her closet
Each day she stands in front
of her full-length mirror
stares at perceived imperfections
as they thicken before her eyes
Friends don’t notice
each misplaced mole
or cellulite pleading
to hide from any
audience
Co-workers notice her
post-it-note headline
“Intelligent Perfect Women
Skydives in Kimono”
affixed to the cubicle wall
Today results of
her search for kimonos
of various colors
is carefully placed in
a folder entitled skydiving
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
I know what a skydiver feels like,
though I've never actually jumped from a plane
because with you I feel I'm skydiving.
Free falling, chutes failed
Crashing into your arms, into my world-
Yearning for the touch that grounds me
better than this planet ever has or could or will.
And in your eyes I see an ocean
One I plan to swim forever, trusting that
the water will be warm and the waves never too rough.
But it's in your soul that I find home,
in a space made just for me,
the one that waited, patiently waited-
Knowing only I would fit.
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
A poem, for some, is not fuelled by a single thought.
It is not a sudden emotion that yearns to be converted instantly to wordful waste, it is gradual.
It is a volcano, that builds up until eruption is inevitable.
Poetry, for some, is layer upon layer of thought and feeling and concept, hardened over time,
For some, it is hours of pain and joy and the works of the indescribable puppeteer so desperately fused
into metaphor.
Poetry, for some, lifelong.
But for others, poetry is pure spontaneity. It is unpredictable and unlook-back-able.
For others, poetry is their act of carpe diem, their tip-toe into daily bravery and recklessness.
Their mark that is not a scar.
Poetry, for others, is a single moment picked out of an infinity of them and pulled apart, or pulled together.
It is wonderful and hideous, it is skydiving and socialising and swimming with the sharks.
It is instant, it is adrenaline.
For others, poetry is lack of thought or understanding, just the swift transition from neuron to ink or binary.
Poetry, for others, is short lived.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 2:06 PM UTC
What is this sound
melodic, pure, a feeling washes over me
one like jumping into a clear mountain spring
rushing through sand dunes giggling as I stumble
skydiving, knowing I am safe and will forever fly
this sound makes me want to listen always
like the birds singing and the winds whisper
the trees swaying telling their secrets
sunshine bathing me warming me to the core
the sound is your laughter
and it is my favorite music
if you would not mind laugh again please
I wish to dance
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
I think I'm winning but I realise,
I'm running in the wrong direction.
I've already made too many mistakes,
When will I be right again?
Always running from the truth,
I'm skydiving with no parachute.
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 6:36 AM UTC
Polyrhythms & sunny synths
rippling across the surface
of a blue lagoon as we are guided
to ascend by an enlightened
soul with the force of a typhoon.
Tinkling melodies & shining stars
gracing through the galaxies
within our hearts, pacing
in circles as it all continues
to lovingly fall apart.
Good vibes & joyous moments
take us all on a mystical journey
through the folds of time
as we flow through the waters
of golden beaches so divine.
What wonderful luck to be alive,
coexisting with the beauty
of a land touched by starlight.
An uplifting sea of memories
surfaces as nostalgia subtly sways
through the summer leaves,
floating upon a gentle breeze
giving way to an easy night.
Nov 9, 2021
Nov 9, 2021 at 5:51 AM UTC
1. Go on a scary ride 10 times in a row.
2. Go Skydiving.
3.Make a time capsule.
4.Spend 1 day without talking.
5.Say yes to everything for a day (expect if it is: harmful, embarrassing...).
6.Face my fears.
7.Learn how to drive a car.
8.Go camping for a week (with friends).
9.Go without TV for a month.
10.Donate blood.
11.Walk around barefooted for a day (SolesforSouls).
12.Dress like a hobo for two days.
13.Drink 100 cups of coffee (& stay up all night).
14.Take a picture of a jellyfish.
15.Change my style.
16. Read 10 classic books in a 2 days.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
Yours Truly
Loving You Avenue
Kissime, Missmeana
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Dear Love of my Life,
You do not know me yet but, I am the love of your life and you are mine. Try not to over look me if we ever meet. Pick me out the crowd of beautiful women you see from where ever we meet, whether it be in public, private, or through a computer screen. Oh yea, and try your best to judge me by my personality. Look past the color of my skin for it may interfere with your better judgement of me. For all you know I could be white, purple, or mahogany. Once, we are together theres somethings you should remember. One is that I won’t completely hate you if you forget our anniversary. I’ll only pretend to so we can feel like a sitcom family. Second, my favorite flower is the lotus but I’ll settle for roses as long as they are never red, I prefer white or black instead.Third, don’t be what you think I expect you to be because I really love spontaneity. So don’t be surprised if for vacation I’d like to go skydiving, bungee jumping, or skiing. By the way I have of list of things I’d like to do before I died and those activities are numbers one, two, and three. Promise to never lie to me unless you are trying to protect me. Yes, I know honesty's the best policy but a little white lie never hurt anybody. I hate to be told what to do unless of course it is by you. So I guess I’ll be fair and not give you too many rules. This last one is a request of you for me, Spontaneously tell me you love me.
Sincerely yours,
The Love of your Life
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 3:48 PM UTC
Let your soul shine through like the ring you thought he bought for you to propose
Like the umbrella you used when he left you stranded in a storm
Like the spots on your thighs from skydiving tears and misleading acts of love
Like the lock on your pretty pink journal that never whispers to another soul
Like the walls your heart will soon begin to build
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
I feel like a lost little boy in the woods looking for a way out. HELP! HELP! I yell, yet no one answers I cannot handle these emotions turmoiling inside me I'm in hell I'm in ecstacy I'm no where in between love is a drug that cannot be compared it carries me to the absolute brink of the precipice and I stare down into the abyss that awaits to engulf me and devour my very being, my soul, I can't help but smile and laugh hysterically as I fall, I am absolutely elated and at the same time feel the abject terror flooding into the very core of my whole existence. It is exhilarating. I am in ******* agony I am in ******* intense beautiful rapture. I am skydiving without a parachute watching the ground scream towards me. I want to stay in free fall forever.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC
Falling for you
It’s like skydiving without a parachute.
Free falling.
Almost feels like flying…
And then I crash.
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
New York Sun Editor John B. Bogart once said
When a dog bites a man, that is not news because it happens so often. But if a man bites a dog, now that's news.
I think the same could be said of life,
at least, mine anyway.
Don't worry, I'm not going around biting dogs,
but I am living it up as if my life were a story,
because it is, otherwise, I'd be bored.
But, if it were up to my parents,
I'd be working some dead-end desk job
at some marketing firm shilling packaged bread
so I could pay off my student loans,
own a home, get a wife & make enough dinero
to march to retirement, just like everyone else.
Same 'ol story.
Dog bites man.
Isn't it more exciting to read
about a roving poet skipping around
the world from Cairo to Toronto
occasionally stopping to smoke on beaches
all the while meeting people
who seem like they're from a different dimension?
I'm not saying I want a book written about me,
but... if one should be in the works,
I know it'd be a real page turner.
Although, most in my generation has been told
we're all unique and special;
getting participation trophies in baseball
& ribbons for being in the spelling-bee,
yet we're all also told, or rather it's highly suggested we
follow suit & get in line like our parents & grandparents did,
continuing their stories of countless wars and conformity.
Same 'ol story.
Dog bites man.
But nobody will read all these identical stories.
That's part of the problem with people,
only a few are living like they have a story to tell
while most fade away in some gray apathy hell.
Well, my brothers and sisters,
I can only frame it to you this way,
if you had a choice between reading the headlines:
Person Does What they're Told Until Death
or
**Person Dies in a Skydiving Sound Circle **** & Bake Sale**
which story are you going to read?
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to make some magic brownies
because I'm late to my skydiving ****** education lesson.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
Skeletal,
she had laid comatose,
thirty-six hours,
morphine tubes & cotton swabs,
so cold to the touch.
It wasn't supposed to end this way.
I remember her in her better days,
before the cancer
had ravaged her *******
skydiving over the Rockies,
Montana whitewater,
sailing the sound
between St.Thomas & St. John,
margaritas in San Juan.
She was the most brilliant light,
a beautiful soul,
truest fighter to the end
& I miss her,
pray everyday,
"May our little sister
rest in peace.
Amen."
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
Love is a lot like
falling towards the earth
at terminal velocity
with no parachute
Knowing that
they are waiting
on the ground
to catch you
in a loving embrace
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
Can we go on an adventure?
Who's the one to hold my hand
Who's the one to take me on surprise trips,
Not just to the beach, but to South Africa
And watch the lions growl and play
Or what about someone who is close to God
Someone who will go on a mission trip with me,
Someone who isn't afraid to spread our faith
Who's going to sit on the porch in rocking chairs,
When its raining. And just talk.
Who's going skydiving with me
Or how about surfing? Snowboarding?
Who will have a sense of adventure
A sense to do something before its too late
Well in a few years
Im boarding a plane.
Who will come live with me?
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC