"whooshes" poems
Glistening through shafts of sunlight, I spy the silvery dragonfly,
Hovering above the clovered knoll,
Swaying like wheat in speckled sun.
Cantering up grassy hills, away from the stream,
The bleating goats exchange existential crises,
Brushing past the whispering tulips ablaze in the sunset.
Behind me,
In the shade of oaks, in spiraling dusts,
Decaying logs half buried in the windbreak
Rekindle and animate in the orange beams.
I stand up and sip my beer, as the stars blink and stutter.
A snowy owl whooshes past, wishing for rain.
Somebody loves me.
May 4, 2010
May 4, 2010 at 5:00 PM UTC
The boom of artillery roars in my ears.
A deadly projectile whooshes over my head,
Slamming into the luckless soul behind me,
And heavy feet beat out a rhythmless tattoo.
Men - are they warriors, soldiers? Gladiators?
They shout encouragement to their comrades,
And screech obscenities at their adversaries.
Reduced to savages, they are consumed by bloodlust.
Something lands nearby.
It strikes the ground, bounces, rolls to my feet.
“Get it!” someone cries out desperately.
A grenade? I lunge, lift it up, hurl it away.
The battle rages on, the artillery still booms,
Men still shout. I want to run, to hide,
But I can only wait for it all to end
When basketball ends at 12:35.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
We are human
Walking traumas
Left untreated
Open wounds
Being leeched
To treat
The wrong fever
It is incongruous
Being inoculated
Against the wrong disease
Vaccinated with apathy
So we don’t feel
The sores that bleed
But you have to laugh
We are mortal
Not merely men
Nor women
More like
All the things
Around and in-between
Searching
Sub-consciously
For peace
Trying to sustain ourselves
While losing
Everyone else
Crying
But you have to laugh
We are little boxes of flesh
Lego people made to fit together
Chipped
Scratched
Lost and found
Each stress tearing at our flesh
Rending our skin
Like a thresher
Building internal and external pressure
Till we need release
****** and or emotional
But you have to laugh
Ready to cry
Sometimes
We are ready to die
Till the brain twitches
Till the broken switches
Leave you in stiches
And you see something strange
Irony or absurdity
Life twisted in its purity
On the verge of exploding
Not really knowing
But something hits
Something fits
Presses the right button
Slapstick
Stupidity
Intellectual curiosity
Sanity flipped on its heels
But you have to laugh
A chortle a choking gasp
The tension breaks
The air whooshes past
You have no control
You have to laugh
The world doesn’t change
Much
The feelings are still there
But with each laugh
It gets easier to bare
It’s a chemical reaction
With endorphins and stuff
But I don’t think you care
It’s just what you needed
To fight off the despair
So I say it again you have to laugh
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
then from the grimy floor
of the lavender fields' portaloo swells
an endless summer, and it creeps
up the blood orange walls;
each time i take a breath,
the plastic warbles like an underwater thing
we make little whooshes together
it swells up and leaks out yellow
like i fear the girl's head will,
across the road,
all shaved and shiny like a soft boiled egg
fit to crack if the wrong car swerves
the wrong way...
anyway,
cancer?
at such a young age?
or the bees outside
springing up cushions,
decorative soaps, honey,
chocolate even out there from the earth
and i can't kick back and laugh
at how much they must be worth
because my god-
i'm scared of bees-
especially with the lavender
mingling with the sweat
in the soft part behind my knees
because what if they chose to stick there
and build empires from my flesh instead?
i'd be like that little girl;
as good as
anyway
sometimes my thighs conduct
like they're made of brass
and there's hail marys in the dust
tiny earthquakes caused by trucks
the tip of an ice cream cone
that isn't soggy
that's good enough
i stayed a little longer
than the trickle did
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 2:20 PM UTC
there ain't nothing
you can teach me
about love that
i don't already know
it comes and it swirls
and it whooshes
and it goes.
there ain't nothing
about life that
makes me want
to live it more
i am here,
i have survived
i have broken down
gun shields, climbed
opportunity walls
but at the end of
the day, i sit back
i watch the sun
sometimes i am jealous
because it lives
for no one.
maybe there's some
things, you can teach
about heart break
and why dying has
become so synonymous
with it.
please try to teach me
love
and life
i need a better
perspective
i am losing
my sight.
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
I'm empty of everything that early in the morning. No sleep, no hunger, no profound instinctual compulsions that you'd guess live deep in the bowels of the morning, when only the least complex form of each person exists. When it's that dark and that quiet, the heart is the only thing that matters.
I breathe, but each breath whooshes like wind through one open window and out the other. There's no substance in there; lungs don't catch and hold on. My chest moves hollowly, mechanically, as if it's some household appliance running incessantly. Like a light bulb glowing in a deserted house.
My eyes stare anywhere, at anything, at darkness and nothingness and up through space and time into worlds where each speck of dust is an infinite entity. I'm restless, too hot under normally snug covers, my arms wanting to reach out and grab hold of something more substantial than what I have. Have you ever had that feeling? Of just wanting to reach out, out, out into the atmosphere, farther, longer, feel the power reverberating through your arm, and feel the stretch of your muscles and tendons? My cheeks burn--I know they're red.
I turn onto my side, I stare out the window, I watch the murky orange-pink of the streetlight far away, slightly blurred by the ***** glass.
My stress is tangible, emanating out of my body, filling the air with a cloud of decay, stifling me in my bed. I reach up and touch the ceiling, less than 2 feet above my head, feeling trapped, my temples are a newly tumble-dried button-down shirt firmly pressed under an iron. I'm aching, and it's all my fault.
My dreams have been wispy, morning haze, almost indistinguishable from real life. Reminders.
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
there is music
all around us
it’s in the leaves
and soft petals
as they dance to the beat of the wind
it’s in a ripple
as it glides across the surface of the water
it’s in the quiet
thump-thump
of a bird’s wings
it’s in the river
as the water trickles over pebbles
it’s in the playful notes
of a cardinal’s song
it’s in the breeze
as it whooshes through the grass
it’s in the
pitter patter
of your shoes as you bounce along
to hear it
all you have you have to do
is quiet your mind
open your heart
and listen
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
Amidst the mosaic
of fall’s vibrant finale,
in motley piles of brown,
red, and green
she performs each of her steps
like a frantic symphony,
stomping a storm of leaves
onto the street- each one
crumbling and crackling
beneath her feet.
She laughs with limbs flailing,
leaf bits sailing
in the cool November air.
She pushes and kicks,
whooshes and picks the perfect
spot of soil for her creation.
Once her leafy
blanket has piled high,
she takes a few steps back,
breaths in, and dives.
Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 12:31 PM UTC
And then the snow came,
Covered the world in white.
A music box of listless thoughts
like pictures out of frame.
It whooshes by so swift,
so quick and beautiful.
One side of the street is slow.
The other is fast.
Opposing ends,
cations.
Magnets,
pulling, tearing,
into one beautiful waltz of latewinter hurrah.
It is so beautiful because not a sole has touched its fall.
Perfectly ****** and smooth.
It is infinity,
never-ending
and terrifying.
Only until the morning breaks
and the people will scuttle from their perches and they will tread
all over its happy white sheet.
What a shame when the morning comes.
Let it stay like this forever.
It is all white
Turbulent
fast
scary
blurry
Nowhere, not anywhere will you see a tread.
It is perfect and always.
It brings me closer to myself
and further from all else.
It won't require a signature
and it doesn't run out of ink.
It is suppliant and healthy.
It will always be.
However, it will melt when the sun beats down.
The sun will come and **** the core.
It will shun out all of my comforts and leave me to be where I want to be the least.
God of night,
shun that terrible sun. Let it be gone forever.
Never let it find me.
Forever hold me in your embrace.
Fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall fall
forever and ever more.
From heaven to earth
the designated gift from God.
Down from the fat lady into our palms
fall fall fall fall
churn my mind water, churn my dreams.
Me, on the ground.
There is a light in the distance. So small and halogen.
It is amber to the core.
A siren in the storm.
Hearth of the madness.
Half-moon of serenity.
Oh I will never understand my words.
Never will I begin to learn my meaning.
What what what does it mean?
I never will understand.
God, what a great and terrible beauty.
What the hell have I done to you?
You were perfect and now a mess.
It is all my undoing. Why have I done it?
Please forgive me.
Or let me learn,
Let there be light tomorrow. Forget this night.
Now I can never stop, for it never stops.
Why should they be mutually exclusive?
I cannot rest until it is gone.
IT WILL NEVER BE GONE.
I can never get proper sleep.
I SHALL FOREVER BE A SHELL.
Sleep, says the amber half-moon.
Sleep and let all your troubles fall like a cell in the storm.
Let your mind be lost in the drift of snow.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 9:43 PM UTC
Dragonfly, flying
against the wind; that
whooshes and whooshes.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 10:14 PM UTC
You were once
A random etcetera,
Woman I hardly knew;
Best friend I always wished for
Muse I always dreamed of,
You came into focus
Out of the blur,
Now you are my synonym
And the world is our antonym,
Let's become an onomatopoeic,
Sound of joy,
Two drops dripping upon the waters,
A splash a spray or sprinkle
Whooshes in the breeze,
Fluttering flags of independence,
A sign for all to see,
Two souls united
Inseparable hearts,
Beating as one
To a tune all our own,
If we inspire before we expire,
Let no one extinguish this fire...
© okpoet
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
Did i got squashed?
A dog is on the rush,
Right behind me,
Quick glance
To another man
A painting and a brush,
Needed to get washed.
But please, hush.
Then a little shun, a **** whooshes,
Woke me up from my dream.
Monster crashes,
To my face,
The morning gleam.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 6:43 AM UTC
Twisting wind whooshes,
Thunderstorm’s uncontrolled fits;
Town and country floats!
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
A happy song plays in a happy home
Hums of the chorus along with sound of the chores
Unceasing noise of laughter
Clatter of children's games
Sitting together in the balcony
Breeze beats at their talkative face
Nonchalant old stories of shaking voices
Whooshes of the fast moving fan
Girls laughing elegantly
at their mischevious plan
This is the story of a happy family
Oblivious to what trauma could be
In the same home where there is no gloom
Where colorful and variety of flowers bloom
Also stays the little princess who sits and weeps
Witnessing the false face of a doublefaced creep.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
When the night silently whooshes
Over the sky,
It becomes that time of day,
The time to recline
And watch Dwayne Chapman and friends
Apprehend the wanted and charged
In the Hawaiian splotches of land.
Every cut to commercial
Happens at the ****** of each episode,
Starving the soul for what might happen...
When really the cut-scene continues
With less action than Beth, Dwayne,
Leland, Sonny, Cleo,
And Baby Lyssa may stir before a break.
Cars, cameras, and people
Move in hot-pursuit.
And thus the setting of the TV series
Isn't the only dimension
Captured.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
I told myself,
when I got in-country,
I'd fake it,
act like a saint,
do enough
just to survive.
'Cause in reality,
I didn't really want to hurt
anybody.
Well, so I thought.
When I heard my first explosions,
felt a few whooshes,
experienced some automatic rounds
whizzing
just overhead,
so close,
nearby,
I thought
what the ****
I want some blood,
those ******** are
really trying to ruin
my ******* day
by killing me.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
A catamaran whooshes past
Epilogued by the propeller with which it steers
Marking each and every ripple
Without hesitation, without fear
I'll take the next wave
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
From just 5-yrs-old
Nothing was right in life
There were thoughts of ending
There were thoughts of suffocating
Thoughts that shouldn't have been there
At 12-yrs-old things got better
But then they dropped drastically
From happy to, again, thoughts of ending
This time there were pills instead of suffocating
At 16-yrs-old Life flashed before the eyes
A car whooshes by so close an arm could break
Traumatic incident occurred no going back from that
to be left alone on a day like that with no one to talk to at all
At 18-yrs-old scrapes and scratches are used
To feel the pain to let the other one loose into the world
But nobody notices that anything is wrong through all those years
what could be wrong with that young, happy, christian girl that always
has a smile on
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Sometimes it takes the sky to open my eyes
To what's shone, coming and wrong,
To what's bright, rich and right
Sometimes in the emptiness of the night
when I lie awake to your choir of snores,
I chase the Devils of idyllic futures and more,
I hear me in them, in laments of glory, such songs,
and watch the warm creep by from feelings thought ever gone,
it ends,
yet when I truly wake to the scarlet rise
through the smog and maze on the horizon
I realize that in the center of concrete bushes,
as the wind of doubt whoosh whooshes,
I'm standing awake in the circle of change and growth
And I've waded through the black sludge of failures malicious moat,
and now I see me
as the dirt's swill stills
and I look upon my face
for the first time without distaste
and know that between this mud
and the roaring horizons blaze
stands a champion here present,
self made.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
There’s a bright white light
crack in the dull gray clouds
today.
The collection of cars
that cruise by
are louder then
the winding wind
that whooshes through
the empty trees.
No leaves
that I can see
on those wild dancing trees
but the buds on their limbs
are already starting to bloom.
Now these day clouds
hang heavy
ready
to release
their dark gray
rain loads.
I wait for the water,
but I shouldn’t have bothered.
The clouds merely tease
but never release
a single drop for me.
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 9:02 AM UTC