Rocket
Sleeping late on
Warm afternoon
Waking up to
Bright silver moon
Silent words from
My heart to you
My empty filled
Filled up with you
Rockets fly
Rockets fly
I slip another smile in your pocket
My heart is racing to you like a rocket
Rockets fly
Rockets fly
I slip another smile in your pocket
My heart is racing to you like a rocket
The two of us we dream like one
Our energy could light the sun
The two of us take breath as one
The two of us... The two of us...
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Rocket
Sleeping late on
Warm afternoon
Waking up to
Bright silver moon
Silent words from
My heart to you
My empty filled
Filled up with you
Rockets fly
Rockets fly
I slip another smile in your pocket
My heart is racing to you like a rocket
Rockets fly
Rockets fly
I slip another smile in your pocket
My heart is racing to you like a rocket
The two of us we dream like one
Our energy could light the sun
The two of us take breath as one
The two of us... The two of us...
song performed by by Yellowcard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rocket Robin Hood
Come gather around me. Space travelers surround me.
Hark now to the ballad of Rocket Robin Hood.
I may well confound you, astound you, spellbound you,
With heroes and villains, the bad and the good.
Watch now as our rockets race here from afar.
For now, with our Robin, we live on a star.
Three. Two. One. Blast off!
Band of brothers, marching together.
Heads held high in all kinds of weather.
With fiery blasts, our roaring rockets rise,
Beyond the Earth, beyond the skies!
At the sight of Robin, take your stand,
With the gallant leader of our band.
Send a joyous shout throughout the land!
For Rocket Robin Hood!
poem by Todd Steussie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Surfing On A Rocket
Time for flying rockets
For silver jets
For surfing bombs
Surfing on a rocket
Don't pray to go
Please take my hand
Don't get me down
Surfing on a rocket
I'll be back one day
Just pray for me
I'm on my way
Surfing on a rocket
5 4 3 2 1 0
No one can stop me to go
You'll never see me again
song performed by by Air
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Grove Rockets
We are Spring Grove Rockets.
So pull that money out of your pockets.
Because you know that we can stop it you just love to watch us block it.
Because we are the SPRING GROVE ROCKETS
We launch our hearts from the start
So don't try to braek us apart
We are strong
We are brave
We've got you beaten
to the grave
SPRING GROVE ROCKETS
poem by Kayla Nace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I certainly remember building model rockets. It was fun to watch the rocket blast into the air, suspenseful to wonder if the parachute would open to bring the rocket safely back.
quote by Eric Allin Cornell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rocket 88
Yea I think I know
I really hate it when it gets too slow
I gotta try and keep myself amused
I love the way my rocket purrs
I like it best when I see blurs
You gotta love to watch me light my fuse
No more lookin back to yesterday
I got the thing to blow us both away
All I need is you to navigate
So come and ride my rocket 88
Call it chump change, I think not
cause I got sumpn no one else has got
Its no look like and it aint no protege
Its nuclear my rocket 88
Well get down on the darkside of the moon
And leave a little somthin on the dune
This home by ten is gonna have to wait
cause we got a rocket 88
Light years honey thats how far well go
Lets fire it up and watch the rockets glow
Gee suit, g-spot, gee I really must admit
I got my rocket 88, honey this is it
So no more up against the wall
Just come with me and watch the earth get small
I swear you never will come down at all
So if you like it in your face
Ill rub your nose into outer space
And turn into a red hot fireball
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rocket scientists agree that we have about reached the limit of our ability to travel in space using chemical rockets. To achieve anything near the speed of light we will need a new energy source and a new propellant. Nuclear fission is not an option.
quote by Wilson Greatbatch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Bottle Rocket
It's flimsy and clumsy
and epileptically sturdy
Lacking circuit transistors
With 20 inch motors
The paint jobs diminished
Crackling white brim acrylics
And you can see the Coke logo
Embellished beneath the port windows
But none of this matters
Even if the ship scatters
For it's propelled with conviction
Against the Sadisms of Physics
It's an aluminum cadaver
Furbishing two cylinder pillars
With an apple juice cartridge
Bifurcated as the ship's bow
It's got wings to counterbalance
The aerodynamic escaping actions
Though their made of cardboard triangles
They look developed from certain angels
There are a dozen toothpaste caps
Interlinked through the silver stern
Which boost it up to outer space
Connecting me to angel in turns
I'll be a thousand light years off
While still inside the french courtyard
Looking left at Bernard's Star
Across the voluminous parking lot
Peripatetically motioning
Towards the gemstones of Andromeda
Engaging zigzagging quasars
Under succulent Milky Way Bar
Caressing the navigation
Towards the strangest of destinations
Jungles of steel, skies of flying whales
Found under ellipses of oneway lenses
Bottle Rockets float
Under Surreal Gravity,
upside down my sanity
This is a fantastic disaster
But it doesen't anti-matter
Because it my bottle rocket
I'm an aggrandized Agnostic
Adhesive axel adolescents
Propelled at high speeds of obsession
Escaping material tides
While embracing cosmic rides
So set the controls to the heart of forever
My foolish fortune is a treasure without measure
Bottle rockets
deliver holistic temptation
Bottle rockets
exhibit lascivious fascination
Bottle rockets
unshackle amateur Braun's
Bottle rockets
command dexterous Russian
Bottle Rockets
explode pan dimensional madmen
Bottle Rockets
demolish apathies cursed religion
Bottle rockets take me
beyond the absents of dreams
Into dimensions which weave
imaginations unperceived
by realities chains
unleashed from terrains
from Pedestrian Hemispheres
Towards celestial raptures
and though they don't fly
Ill still make a try
For my mind is alive
With bottle rockets tonight
poem by Kevin Patrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Palestinian must stop throwing stones, and the Israelis must stop firing rockets. And in the view of the Sharm el-Sheikh summit, rockets are equal to stones.
quote by Hassan Nasrallah
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Fourth Of July (Love And Rockets Red Glare)
On this night of patriotic celebration
We find a special place to hide away
for a while
Just for the two of us
Under the boardwalk
We lay a blanket down and spread it out
Sitting on the blanket
The time has come
And so
One by one
Fireworks and rockets go off
As they go off
We exchange hugs and kisses
While still making time to see the beauty
and magic happening in the sky
On the Fourth of July
As the fireworks and celebration continue
On this Fourth of July
You and I can both agree
We wouldn't want to be anywhere else
Anywhere else in the world
On this Fourth of July
On the Fourth of July
For us
Tonight
It's definitely love and rockets red glare
Love and rockets red glare
All over
poem by Justin Gildow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Night I Painted The Sky
I came from the north
Escaping convention
Modern invention that wont let me be
To the shores of st. martin
With my fiction addiction
To restart the fire
A dreamers remedy
Independence day
And all I remember
Was a midnight rainbow
That fell from the sky
As I stand on the beach
I slowly surrender
To the child in me
That cant say goodbye
The rockets in the air
And the people everywhere
Put away their differences for a while
Oh I am still a child
When it comes to something wild
Oh that was the night
I painted the sky
I dug in the sand
Like a boy on a mission
And there in my hands
A pyros delight
If un bombadier
A night time magician
I sparked the sky
As the rockets fly from view
The rockets in the air
And the people everywhere
Put away their differences for a while
Es I am still a child
When it comes to something wild
Oh that was the night
I painted the sky
Oh the mortars they roar
In anticipation
Proceeding the sigh
Of the uplifted eyes
It showers us all
In sulfuric sensation
The colors shine
And a fiery rhyme tonight
The rockets in the air (ooooh...)
And the people everywhere
Wont you put away your differences for a while
I am but a child
When it comes to something wild
Oh that was the night
That was the night
Oh that was the night
I painted the sky
Painted the sky
Painted the sky
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Rockets Fall On Sderot Chanukah 5768
ROCKETS FALL ON SDEROT CHANUKAH 5768
This is no day for a poem
Rage and rain and mud
Darkness covers the earth
Our haters multiply their weapons
Rockets and bombs fall upon us
We hide
Waiting for the right moment
To strike.
Will it ever end
The hatred
The cruelty
The endless effort to destroy us?
Rockets at random terrorize
The children and the poor
Nights are not nights
And days are not days
When death and destruction
Can come at any time.
We are an old people
Long longing for peace
And our enemies multiply
And their weapons also
And hate is their breakfast and their dinner
And destruction is their main food.
And we alone as always alone
We the alone people
Waiting to make one more small strike
Against their leaders,
In a war against hatred and haters
which makes no promise
now or ever
Of ever truly ending.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It Comes - Part 6
(It is suggested that the reader reads Parts 1,2,3,4 and 5 first)
Naval fighters in the vicinity of the Coast Guard flight
last known position flew towards it.
Reaching the area, they noticed
the blue light moving north and commenced their first attack.
Rockets were fired.
Great fountains of water sprouted into the air
as the rockets exploded beneath the surface.
The blue light seemed unaffected
and continued moving northward.
A second attack was launched
and further fountains of water reached out of the sea.
Slowly the blue light got smaller
as the creature dived deeper under the waves.
The fighters returned to base
to be debriefed and have their aircraft refuelled and rearmed.
Military Chiefs concurred that the rockets exploded at depths,
which could not reach the creature.
The only other way was to time the rockets
to explode with delays.
Work began on modifying the rockets
on all search aircraft.
It was tried to estimate how far down
the creature would be swimming
and how long it would take the rockets to reach it.
Each night squadrons comprising of five aircraft to search the seas.
Another month passed before the blue light was again spotted.
Naval fighters from several different countries
moved towards the position.
The first five fighters there commenced their attack.
Rockets were fired hit the water caused splashes
without exploding.
The seconds passed as the aircraft
swooped upwards out of their dive.
As they reached the top of their climb,
the rockets exploded throwing up great fountains of water
and pieces of something.
As the sea calmed a large stain that appeared red
under the moonlight surrounded the area.
The blue light had disappeared.
Deep below the surface
eyes watched as bits of the creature gently floated down.
Some pieces were intercepted by sharks.
Their eyes closed in temporary sadness.
The experiment had been a failure.
One day they would be back to try again.
The End……or is it?
3 October 2009
Author’s Note.
If you have read It Comes and enjoyed it, you might like to read other cliffhanging pieces I have written. The titles are as follows and how many parts there are.
An Invitation To Tea (A Dark Comedy) (3 Parts)
Casebook Of Oliver Cyriax 1# The Burning Bush (4 Parts)
Eyes Of Mr D (5 Parts)
The Hogarth Experiment (6 Parts)
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Poem
(Abbreviated from the conversation with Mr. T E H.
Over the flat slope of St Eloi
A wide wall of sandbags.
Night,
In the silence desultory men
Pottering over small fires, cleaning their mess-tins:
To and fro, from the lines,
Men walk as on Piccadilly,
Making paths in the dark,
Through scattered dead horses,
Over a dead Belgian’s body.
The Germans have rockets. The English have no rockets,
Behind the lines, cannon, hidden, lying back miles.
Before the line, chaos.
My mind is a corridor. The minds about me are
corridors.
Nothing suggests itself. There is nothing to do but keep on.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Meanwhile, In Another Part Of The War
On the street of the concrete refugee tenements
That have collapsed into the smoking holes
The Israeli rockets blew open at dawn’s early light,
The sundered limbs and torsos of a Jenin family
Lie with the shards and dust of their household,
Three generations, shredded like paper dolls.
There are no heads to be found. They never had heads.
If they had heads, the Israeli spokesman assures
The State Department, the U.N., the Believers,
The CNN camera, with his shy smile, in
His Noo Yock twang, they wouldn’t have been
Where the terrorists were.
“Of the three-month-old infant,
Crushed in its cradle, and the eighty-year-old
Shepherd who retired twenty years ago when Israelis
From Russia drove off his flock at gunpoint,
And his son’s wife, and the schoolboy, all buried
In the holes the rockets made, which ones
Were the terrorists?” A voice off-camera asks.
But the spokesman shrugs and smiles
Shyly. The cameras and the microphones
Are already turned off.
There were survivors. One, some say
The mother of two victims, has volunteered
To take the bus to Jerusalem.
poem by James Phillip McAuley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moon less night shivers,
Winter still some weeks away;
Rockets pierce quiet…
haiku by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Many Younger People
So many younger people.
Speed through their lives like rockets.
And all they want to do,
Is display their bling.
They text their messages,
About the joys of having sex.
And think nothing about respecting.
Or the affects left by neglecting,
That process.
So many younger people.
Speed through their lives like rockets.
And all they want to do,
Is display their bling.
They text their messages,
About the joys of having sex.
And think nothing about respecting.
Or the affects left by neglecting,
That process.
Kicks they get,
From being loud and rude.
Even in school hallways,
They loosely talk of booty choosing...
Like it is kept,
In some treasured chest.
And most of them dress,
As if they wish for a nakedness.
While observing grown up little girls,
Exposing their butts...
And developed breasts.
As if soliciting themselves to be.
Sexpots or pets,
As they bend over demurely
Around and near their teachers' desks.
So many younger people.
Speed through their lives like rockets.
And all they want to do,
Is display their bling.
They text their messages,
About the joys of having sex.
And think nothing about respecting.
Or the affects left by neglecting,
That process.
So many younger people,
Get their kicks.
And aware of it.
They are.
As if
They have been taught,
This as a focus.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Crubside Prophet
im just a curbside prophet
with my hand in my pocket
and im waiting for my rocket to come
im just a curbside prophet
with my hand in my pocket
and im waiting for my rocket
ysee it started way back in nyc
when i stole my first rhyme from the m.i.c.
at a west end avenue at 63
the beginning of a leap year, february, 96
with a guitar picked up in the mix
i committed to the licks like a nickel back of tricks
well look at me now
look at me now
look at me now, now, now, now
i'm just a curbside prophet
with my hand in my pocket
and i'm waiting for my rocket to come
i'm just a curbside prophet
with my hand in my pocket
and i'm waiting for my rocket
well youre never gonna guess
where ive been been been
and i have no regrets
that i bet my whole checking account
because it all amounts to nothing up in the end
well you can only count on the road again
well soon be on the radio dial
and i been payin close attention to the willie nelson style
like a band of gypsies on the highway while
im one man pushin on the california skyline drive
up the coast mc brag the most
i m pickin up my pace and makin time like space ghost
raising a toast to the highway patrol and to most
but my cruise control's on coast
cause im touring around the nation
on extended vacation
see i got Elsa the dog who exceeds my limitation
i say,
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Sun Wields Mercy
and the sun wields mercy
but like a jet torch carried to high,
and the jets whip across its sight
and rockets leap like toads,
and the boys get out the maps
and pin-cushion the moon,
old green cheese,
no life there but too much on earth:
our unwashed India boys
crossing their legs,playing pipes,
starving with sucked in bellies,
watching the snakes volute
like beautiful women in the hungry air;
the rockets leap,
the rockets leap like hares,
clearing clump and dog
replacing out-dated bullets;
the Chinese still carve
in jade,quietly stuffing rice
into their hunger, a hunger
a thousand years old,
their muddy rivers moving with fire
and song, barges, houseboats
pushed by drifting poles
of waiting without wanting;
in Turkey they face the East
on their carpets
praying to a purple god
who smokes and laughs
and sticks fingers in their eyes
blinding them, as gods will do;
but the rockets are ready: peace is no longer,
for some reason,precious;
madness drifts like lily pads
on a pond circling senselessly;
the painters paint dipping
their reds and greens and yellows,
poets rhyme their loneliness,
musicians starve as always
and the novelists miss the mark,
but not the pelican , the gull;
pelicans dip and dive, rise,
shaking shocked half-dead
radioactive fish from their beaks;
indeed, indeed, the waters wash
the rocks with slime; and on wall st.
the market staggers like a lost drunk
looking for his key; ah,
this will be a good one,by God:
it will take us back to the
sabre-teeth, the winged monkey
scrabbling in pits over bits
of helmet, instrument and glass;
a lightning crashes across
the window and in a million rooms
lovers lie entwined and lost
and sick as peace;
the sky still breaks red and orange for the
painters-and for the lovers,
flowers open as they always have
opened but covered with thin dust
of rocket fuel and mushrooms,
poison mushrooms; it's a bad time,
a dog-sick time-curtain
act 3, standing room only,
SOLD OUT, SOLD OUT, SOLD OUT again,
by god,by somebody and something,
by rockets and generals and
leaders, by poets , doctors, comedians,
by manufacturers of soup
and biscuits, Janus-faced hucksters
of their own indexterity;
I can now see now the coal-slick
contaminated fields, a snail or 2,
bile, obsidian, a fish or 3
in the shallows, an obloquy of our
source and our sight.....
has this happened before? is history
a circle that catches itself by the tail,
a dream, a nightmare,
a general's dream, a presidents dream,
a dictators dream...
can't we awaken?
or are the forces of life greater than we are?
can't we awaken? must we forever,
dear friends, die in our sleep?
Anonymous submission.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tracks, Trails, Lines and pages
Tracks in forests… of woodland creatures
Trails of shooting stars in summer skies
Tracks of rockets o’er bloody battlefields
Traces of wrinkles round wizened eyes
Lines of wisdom on wrinkled faces
Lines of ants upon the floor
Lines of prose on parchment pages
Lines of carts inside the stores
Pages of life, inside old diarys
Pages dog-eared to mark the places
Pages filled with tales sad and fiery
Pages filled with empty spaces
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!