"whoosh" poems
The beach
WOOOSH
.......Whoosh.....
Sand
Water
Whoosh swoosh of the waves
Cute boys in the water
Whoosh swoosh
Of the water.
In my towel
Whoosh..... swoosh......
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
WHOOSH she goes
On the low seas, carried by the high winds.
Where
Ankles anchor, Knees tack, Back yaws, Wrists lock, and Thumb sagg.
Holding on to a harpoon in
my dingy, flopping against
Glinting, Honed, Double-Edged waves.
"**Light, **
It's the Eye of the Storm.**
Fatigue steers me into its heart
My anchor prodding me,
To continue or to
rest.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
By walking between certain trees,
Sometimes, one has an odd feeling,
An unusual tingling sensation,
Not scary, but mostly appealing.
Katalyn passed between two elms,
And entered into ancient realms.
Excitement prickled Katalyn’s skin,
Trees here were wide and tall,
Then from a sun-splashed clearing,
There came a strange animal call.
Creeping closely; peering round a tree,
Katalyn saw unicorns, roaming free.
Approaching slowly, heart beating fast,
Katalyn could not help but smile,
As the unicorns gathered round,
What grace, such poise, cool style.
Not thinking, Katalyn touched a wing,
There came a whoosh . . . so dizzying.
Without knowing, how or why,
Katalyn soared above the trees,
Holding a slender unicorn neck,
Laughter escaping on the breeze.
They dropped into a sudden glide,
With a thrilling rush: what a ride!
They winged across grassy plains,
Between mountains capped with snow,
Katalyn neither knew nor recognised,
The wild land, passing by, below.
Another world; another dimension,
Kept secret by; magical intention.
Then Katalyn was suddenly walking,
Back where the adventure began,
Passing between two old elms,
Returned to the world of man.
Now feeling as happy, as you please,
Knowing unicorns lived, beyond the trees.
© Paul M Chafer 2014
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
Regret melts slow,
dripping from the side.
It feels like skin being tugged against,
the impression left from
my hand to yours.
The anticipation of being patient
burns and flickers,
excitedly proud to be included.
Your back, the wick that stands straight,
slowly curving,
stretching, releasing tension.
Your legs wrapped in mine.
If you were to blow too hard,
the flame would whoosh,
leaving nothing but a puddle.
The people we were
staring, looking at the mess.
The rest of my strength
supports your arch,
the curled wick that's grown tired
against my chest.
No matter how you lay,
I am comfortable in your wild stretch.
Sleep surrounding both of us—
I have your back, your heart.
The crisp edges of your hair tangled
On my head
The smoke of desire soots and breathes,
dried in a puddle of wax
Jan 17, 2025
Jan 17, 2025 at 9:13 PM UTC
Blue eyes, bald head, haggard skin...dead...
It was like a race
with a bet for her life if she lost
Her delicate figure encased by a
tortoises shell
but no match for the hare that
infects her blood
speeding through the race
...speeding through her life
But wait...
the hare slowed down,
taking a rest
letting her, the slow tortoise
gradually start to win this race
this fight
Steps from the finish line
steps from overcoming this battle
...whoosh...
She lost
Cancer won the race...and her life
Dedicated to Carol MacPherson
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
Chirp chirp
A sparrow hops and flitters
Jumps and flutters
From branch
To branch
To wire
Lining up with all her friends
Waiting for some skybus to take them away
Twitter and chortling about the world below
Silly humans in their lucid bubbles of
Space
Squirrels chattering and cussing from the trees
Thieving birdseeds and peaches
Meanwhile the sparrow bounces on the wire
Jittery and full of energy
Twitching and flicking her feathers and tail
Boune bounce hop
Fidget and jump on straw thin legs
And then whoosh
All leave at once
Their invisible skytrain pulling away as fast as it comes
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 11:21 AM UTC
Morning has broken
but she has not
it had been a long night
sinister fraught
the stars were cut
in lacerations of lace
stains of tears
mark trails
on her face
mascara in circles
mocking panda eyes
multiple moments
of almost self-demise
wrists bound to
sadness, heart
trussed to trust
pain from crumbling
illusions, plus
that constant,
searing lust
Now, on the floor,
lying face down
in what seemed
like blood,
she starts to
move around,
as realization pours over
in a thick, viscous flood:
She can move her arms;
for they were not
really bound
That gag in her mouth?
it has dissolved into sound
The sound of her voice
as she gets up
from the floor
opens the window
bringing light
to the fore
guttural noises
escape deep
from her throat
and before she
knows it, the
room starts to float
furniture circling
as the energy takes
and she lets in the air
fresh as new fate
her cuts balmed over
winds whipping up her hair
marks from taut ropes
smoothing over to bare
and the light bursts in
in a blast, in a whoosh
like bursts of starlight
cutting in with a push
they seep into shadows
pulsing over the dark
the howling rescinds
in an explosion of sparks
blocks of pain that held
her chained
are knocked over
and the lightstorm
keeps coming
her inner percussion
just doesn't stop drumming
And as she flies through that window
and unhinges the door
from its frame
freedom
is now hers
forever to claim
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 4:53 AM UTC
The impetus
Of being
Always on the run
Through pinwheel eyes
Those standing by
The mystic roadway : River
Blues yet to be brushed
or in blush
Of evening chill's breathing
a canvas like windows dreaming felt
All mindful
And chockfull O'
Wonder
Then ponder
Yonder "window breaks"
Past the wilderness' sleep
Bone heavy wood
Umber earth
Past whoosh and rush of liquid
Folding on itself / a soundtrack
Listen now
Pedestrian be
Mindful of the cautionary whales
Old Ahab’s yell
Obsessions
Fears
Or loathing.
If one is drowning in one's sleep
Look wildly
widely
Blithely
Down river
Or up there beyond finger's point
Sidewinder snake journeys
Until sky and below it
All meet
The distance
Now only a line
Coalescing what is beyond
Our ability to see
Far and away
Evanescent
Effervescent
Ever after
River. Life.
Here we are
And proud
The free spirit is fluent
With the rapid rivers loud
Always on the run
Currents like a child's curiosity ...
How then,
When or why
does it end ?
Where do we go?
Like most things existing,
Will lead to the high art /
love's deep oceans...
We often forget to seek
And mind
the sublimations/
d¬¬rift wood.
So then,
Begin with a dot .
A speck of dusk
A burst of light
A starry sky,
pieces to mastering
Raging fragility of water
Liquid undulations
Folding itself in / volumes
Or falling from on high
A droplet cry
Then the lightning
(crash or bloom)
From the heavens
like electric rivers
So brilliantly
Festoons
Where do we go (so low)
There and here / underfoot /
Over north / southern sleep
To oceans twilight deep?
Go wrapped or map-less
Or no.
Up
Way
Up yonder
There up there
Everywhere
All without fear...
My heart like the river yearns
To go toward the sun
A flow /
the beating drum
Always on the run
And
Yet
Still
Here.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 3:58 AM UTC
this swirling roaring wind that blows homeward from the sea
saltiness with eucalyptus blending in twisting my fear
the knots in my chest and stomach entangling
deadly mocktail of emotions surging
with every howling whoosh
a new green life falls breaking
life prematurely ending
storm violently shaking
every limb of every tree
an attempt to blow anxiety
into each living breath
a drenched vision
of a couple of crows
seemingly meditating
in the midst of the tempest
holding their own
***in the eye
of the storm
they find
Peace***
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
01.11.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
*"Once upon a time there was"
"no"
"No"
"NO"
"Many moons ago"
"There was a dreamer"
Who wished with all her heart,
To find the gold at the rainbows end,
She would look for clouds
Bursting
Up
High,
Her mother smiled.
"Are you still searching for that rainbows end"
"Pamela your dreams are the clouds"
*"Mummy a *** of gold I will find"*
"For if you latch on to one"
"You will find yourself upon the other side""
Then one morning awoke to find a rainbow
Moving over her lawn,
Blouse,
Trousers,
Shoes
On too, she had packed a case
Encase this time did come true,
She slid down the banister
"Whoooooosh"
Through the front door,
Just as it was fading
Hands did grab hold,
She was surrounded by colours
Red,
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Indigo
Violet
All were pure and bright, then with a
"Thump"
On her bottom she did land, surrounded
By beauty, plants the colours of the rainbow
"Blue leaves"
"Grass was orange"
Sky was all shades of the rainbow too,
A *** seen, gold did gleam,
Mouth wide open,
A violent fly flew in then out,
"Gross"
And she then quickly shut her mouth,
She was over the moon, the rainbow too,
She picked it up,
Lighter than she thought??
She picked one up
Put it too her mouth,
And bit,
It was squiggly in her mouth
"Gross"
Twice in two minutes,
She was
Sullen,
Grumpy,
Tears
Did cascade from little eyes,
They came out
Colours of the rainbow
Which lightened her mood,
She wiped her tears looked once, twice
Then hands upon the rainbow,
And whoosh, she landed with a
"Thump"
On next doors cow,
"MMmmmoooooo"
Went the cow,
"AAaahhhhhhh"
Went Pamela,
She ran with a
Scare
And
Fright,
As in the distance still hearing the angry
"MMMmmoooooooooooo"
She ran to her house, opened the door,
"MUM"
"MUM"
"MUM"
With a fright her mum ran out,
"Pamela"
"My baby are you all right"
"I found the rainbow"
**"I found the ***
"I found a land of colour,"
"But the treasure wasn't right"
All said with in one breathe,
Now breath my angel,
As mother did take a coin
Opened it carefully and with the tip
Of here finger tasted it,
"MMmmmm"
So creamy, so light,
As she took her in the kitchen,
And the toaster minutes later
POPPED out,
Spreading it evenly, and eaten was
The toast crust and all,
"Mummy may I try one"
Pamela said
"Magic words my honey bear"
"Please may I try one"
And with that the toast again
POPPED out,
"MMmmmmmmm"
"My gosh mummy this tastes divine"
"You found a golden treasure that's for sure"
As they had toast each morning,
Opening a coin spreading it evenly,
"It was a taste to behold"
The treasure at the end of the rainbow,
Wasn't money, but I was something better
A taste that put a smile on faces
Every morning at breakfast time.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:45 AM UTC
I still hear the world in my ears.
I hear the whoosh of the west wind,
The noise of the empty word
And clatter of senses rubbing
Against the body of the wind
As if they are my very bones
That move lazily in my knee.
As I walk in my defunct dreams
I do not need the hearing aid.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 6:54 AM UTC
Flying in the sky, my hands by my side.
Whisking your skin as I passed by.
Lights made facades of what should have beens.
Deformed beauties of light formed on your backs and your shoulders.
You laughed and talked.
You ran you mocked.
You whispered, you thought.
You told jokes, you were polite.
quietly I whisk by.
Barely marking the places I have been.
There I go, the whoosh of the wind, I said something in your ear.
But all it was was just a whoosh in your ear.
Swiftly I fade away.
Just moved the leaves and made them sway.
You barely noticed me, I know.
I didn't mean to be cold...
I hope you forgive me, for blowing out the candles, for letting the dreams and hopes of yours fly past. Unnoticed.
Quietly I flew by, as I danced in the smoke of your eyes, talking to you, by and by.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:11 AM UTC
once you take that first step down the path
the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back
now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting
right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction
time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass
beholden to no one it has its own destiny
for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy
setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger
unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow
their ire ****** forth like a thunderous lighting strike
wishing to smite those that have broken her heart
there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed
bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles
a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation
is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness
it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable
step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down
the walled fortress now a corral with no escape
and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting
a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared
her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed
utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun
how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another
now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly
she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword
I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire
so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here
all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not
Andreas Simic©
Apr 30, 2022
Apr 30, 2022 at 8:50 PM UTC
As you told me I figured you could be my guide
I put my guard down as you take me
This is somewhere too far
And yet you have made sure
That you could leave me, anytime
I didn’t see that coming but of course
I have to find my way on my own
Just to realize you took me where I once were
Am I really kind and selfless?
You reminded me my old pains and angst
And still made me feel like I’m worthy
Most of all, I admired what I saw
I can’t help but to think of my endless possibilities
Thank you,
But are you still there?
Almost unreal,
What was that?
Whoosh,
Where are you?
A wind,
A whale song?
My, my, my mind is all over
I can’t stop thinking of getting better
But I also can’t stop thinking of getting better with you
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 1:34 PM UTC
I write about love and I write about hate
I am a writer who was born to create
I am a writer
I write with a pen and I type with a whirl
I'm a writer, a poet, a creative girl.
I am a writer
Hear the whoosh of my pen
I am a writer and I'll say it again
Because I am a writer
I want to be heard
So I'll write every sentence with thought in each word
I write about love and all that is great
I am a writer who was born to create
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 12:16 PM UTC
Hips hunkered, rise to dapple-blue-toned dusty seat
Flush arch cheeky blush, excitement
Droll eye-glazing blue pupil toned in sleepy drug haze
Wind whipping wild air rushing through tempered glass
Wubing whoosh of wheeled blacktop pavement
Colored in eerie sunshade yellow
Lined, darting-flash gold white boundary crossing
Tight knuckles, two hand hold
Blinking brown doe-eyed drowsy heavy lidded
Lolling head knocked back, head bash rested caressing faux blue
Ploom of dust
Dry-mouth open to catching fly’s
Or what’s left of dank-infused air
Quiet stillness
Blond hair crawling in busy wind,
Equally as gone
Thumping, jolting-momentum
White line boundary lost, wheels ended grass
Ditching down, dirt slid slide
Floating weightless suspended-nightmare phase
Snapping,
Awake! Awake!
Screaming slotted terrified,
Panic! Painful-heart-wrecking rob breath
Nose dive, mounded metal drive inching closer
Hairs-breath away
Afraid, screaming ****** ****** inside sealed lips
Brown eyes; lid white
Hands upon steering slack, loose light
Asleep, peaceful in calamity
Unnatural shake and tumble
Nail dug bleeding ache
Skidding gravel, tree lined doom
A god not believed in a prayer ensued
Shaking, the calm unglued
“Baby, wake I beg you!”
Brown quick electric wide
Screaming, Screaming
“Oh my God! Why!”
Swerve snake skin peelout
Black lane orange in night
An almost death.
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
Writhing, the screeching leviathan demands
And I cave to save the aching from tricky time slopes
Pained craving
Wavering but
Hit and
It’s all loosey goosey goodness
Sensing silent magma pulse, whoosh the tummy tingles
Droopy ears gape-face giggle no more nowadays
A stern turn in old age the silly phase of
Too bright, neon common numb tongue rambles
Secedes into introspective
Crowded walks, broken talks strung into threats clustered and
Flung like monkey **** at many-stabbed ego, Brutus?
Strangers will eat you
The professor thinks I’m funny because
I know the answers in class
The other day Dingus
And Whoseewhatsee tried to alley mug and hurt and end
And money!
No, rocked nose ran dude! Fine
Trying not to fear the outdoors, though
The arthropods and phantoms tell me ***** jokes
And not to eat my candy
Books melt into soupy mercurial elixir
I slurp them and belch
Educating myself in a barn ******* knowledge
On loud faces; empty meat
Where you can hear the jingly metal
Thing when you shake it, it’s dead no flower
They don’t always like me
But
I’ve got the jeepers creepers behind my peepers
And a million lightyears to burn
Truth is worth dying
Four **** sow
Izzeny thing these daze
Maybe it was a bust from the start but there’s
Always art
Quieting the plague that revealed
Not so good after all
Tiny thorns and all-consuming
Waves of red-get-out wrenching, gutted like a fish
Overcome, that never went away or found
A place to sit
Memories arthritic grind a grim gray whetting stone
Reduce with juice-cloud, grape teeth cough will never find a home
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
It's funny the pull one person can have.
The way they can make the world right-
bring flight to your very soul-
Only to rip a hole through you
in the very next breath.
I don't get it.
This whirlwind, this tornado of emotional distrust.
How did you gain such power over me?
I will gladly stand her to be showered by
your kisses and professions of affection
but all it takes is a split second of self-doubt
and I'm left wondering...
Are you better off without me?
There are others, you know...
Much prettier, shinier baubles out there,
just waiting to be picked up and admired.
I'm flawed, filled to the brim with troubles,
not wrapped in nearly such a neat package.
Funny, it is, the way this ferris wheel works.
Just when I think I've found my comfort space,
my safe place,
...whoosh...
there is goes, oh so quickly,
blinked away much too rapidly.
How does one person gather that much strength
over my very own essence?
Funny the way that works.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
The color of death is not black, is not white.
Not red, not gold.
Think: ashen skin.
Think: where did the blood go?
Think: pale, so ******* pale.
Bruise again. He’s going to bruise again.
Mottled red and purple and blue and green and yellow.
That’s what the body does after death. Blood runs down
to the lowest bend of the body and bruises the skin.
The rust of cerebrospinal fluid as it sloshes
back and forth
in the bag hanging above the bed.
My mother’s hands:
white knuckled and gripping down on washcloths
to prevent her from breaking the skin of her palms.
The constant hum of telemetry,
the soft whoosh of the ventilator.
The human body has roughly 7% of its weight in blood.
The human body has no ******* idea what to do when
there is too much or too little of really anything.
Think: blood vessel bursting.
Think: cells mutating.
Think: proned patient coding after intubation.
Bruised. His hands were bruised from all the needle-sticks,
from his lack of platelets. And a single transfusion only goes so long.
Goes three weeks long.
The hands on the belly, laid so gently, so carefully are
covered in makeup. The hair is parted wrong with a cowlick.
I know how they created that soft smile on his closed mouth.
I’ve read the books.
I’ve heard the talks from morticians.
They’ve made my grandfather tan, but
I know what’s underneath the foundation:
grey.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 10:55 PM UTC
9:43 on a frigid clear morning, the morning I made the conscious decision to stand as far as possible from the dropoff to the train tracks, and an older gentleman next to me, newspaper folded, saying "It's a cold one today, isn't it". And I smiled in agreement and I drank my overpriced coffee, fogging up the sky.
10:13 on the train, unwashed windows turning the sun dirty-bright, and I didn't drift off for it as all the men in suits and flatlined mouths slowly did.
And 11:36 in the City, a man I had decided not to love and his sarcastic appreciation of modern art, and me laughing endlessly. And this man showing me his secret hideouts and telling me secret stories, stories that you earn. I had decided not to love him, though, and so I didn't. It was easy because he had made no such call.
And 5:52 in his marble high-rise and his bed that was bigger than my bed, on it, he told me he had decided not to love me too. And then we kissed, and kissed, with nothing-to-lose moving our hands and mouths all over each other. Nothing-to-lose tangling his sheets and relaxing our heartbeats, and making them audible.
8:04 on the night of the morning I began to fear the third rail and the whoosh of the New Haven line, a bruise on my neck and my kiss-swollen mouth flashed red and dirty-bright to the post-commuters, and the man I forgot not to love still in the city, and the feeling of peaceful but irreversible damage heavy on my lap.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
House of cards,
Little space.
"Draw the curtains,"
Happy place.
On the swings,
Gentle push.
"Touch the sky!"
Fleeting whoosh.
Running some errands,
Busy afternoon.
Grocery store music,
Catchy tune.
Quiet back alley,
Stabbing knife.
Laying on pavement,
Doubting life.
Cold storm strikes,
Washing away.
Sigh after sigh,
Feelings betray.
Dreary minutes pass,
Eyes blear.
Urge to cry,
Prisoner tear.
Ghostly vibe pulsates,
Hopes high.
One last breath,
Say goodbye.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 9:38 PM UTC
You step out into darkness
And you look all around.
Something is going to get you,
And then a shiver slide up and down your spine,
Whish- whoosh a ghost was here,
Whish- whoosh a ghost was here,
Whish- whoosh a ghost was here.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 8:16 PM UTC
It doesn't matter
if you die petting your dog
or prowling the freeway,
you will always hear a whoosh
when you go up into the sky.
And the next thing you know
you are in deep space
walking along an old stone bridge
suspended in endless star soup
with all the latest earth leavers
and you think -
omigod those stories were all true.
All eyes gaze
transfixed by a celestial diamond
bigger than the Great Pyramid
suspended in blueblack emptiness
pulsing with music you recognize
but cannot name.
The old man beside you says
we are not in heaven
this the line for the trip
that goes into light.
The diamond hums
everyone's kundalini rises
and one by one
each person reaches the end of the bridge
and steps off into the vacuum of space.
They waft down like leaves
grinning like children on a merrygoround
coming to rest on the diamond
then slowly dissolving into it
and they disappear.
But they quickly reappear
bursting forth from the diamond's tip
as sparkling cherubs
caressing a billion luminous suns
each one another ride
on a celestial road trip
that never ends.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 8:33 AM UTC
Like a matchstick
Under pressure and friction
I light up
Burn
Heat surges through
my body
and then after glowing for awhile
it is extinguished
whoosh
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC