The Window of Vulnerability
Sure today it could come in a fast plane
named perhaps for the pilot's mother,
the city ends in a smear in the road
and that in a child's shoe. No one
will say aboard the Missouri all these
proceedings are now closed, by nightfall
hours beyond zero no one remarks
it was grey, it had no beauty at all.
Now what to do with these postal districts
drifting downwind? It would be
routine enough on the autopilot,
flying home till there's no home to fly to.
Related quotes
Flying
D. mccafferty/p. agnew/d. sweet/m. charlton
Here I am flying
Looking down at mother earth below
Above me only blue skies
Below me is a cotton candy world
Here I am dreaming
Plane Im on flies gently as a bird
Captain said something
But I never heard single word
Here I am flying
Look above you
Ill be watching you
Maybe you wont see me
But soon Ill be flying
Soon Ill be flying home to you
Gazing at the sunrise
Homeland sure looks green far down below
Now were almost landed
I can see the hostess by the door
Here I am flying
Look above you
Ill be watching you
Maybe you wont see me
But soon Ill be flying
Soon Ill be flying home to you
Wont be long till I see
Bridges on our river
Looking at the old familiar lights
Wont be long till well be
Making up for countless sleepless nights
Here I am flying
Looking down at mother earth below
Above me only blue skies
Below me is a cotton candy world
Here I am flying
Look above you
Ill be watching you
Maybe you wont see me
But soon Ill be flying
Soon Ill be flying home to you
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Alarm The Passengers
Steward...
Is it my imagination,
Or is the plane flying without a pilot?
'Don't alarm the passengers,
But yes.
The conservatives aboard,
Have decided those liberal...
Are in too many positions of control.
And wish to replace the pilot,
Because it is assumed...
He is a Muslim, born in a different country.
And determined he is no longer qualified to fly.'
But don't they realize all of us might die?
'I have been promised a high paying position,
By them...
When the new pilot is found and we land.
However...
No one else aboard has the guts,
To sit in the pilot's seat.
So I'm doing my best to keep all of you calm.'
Are you NUTS?
'Sir,
I must beg of you to lower your voice.
We have many conservatives flying first class.
And they will be distubed by your outbursts! '
But we all will die without a pilot!
'Hopefully not.
Many are now praying to have someone appear,
Who poses no threat to their stolen traditions.
And that person not be of color.'
What difference does that make?
'Many on board...
Rather die than be saved by a Negro! '
Are they all INSANE?
'Sir,
I must beg of you to lower your voice.
Don't alarm the passengers,
But yes.
The conservatives aboard,
Have decided those liberal...
Are in too many positions of control.
And wish to replace the pilot,
Because it is assumed...
He is a Muslim, born in a different country.
And determined he is no longer qualified to fly.'
So...
What happens? ! WHAT HAPPENS? ? ?
'Sir,
Please lower your voice.
What happens?
Whatever happens...
I'm sure no one will ever learn a thing! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Roll Along Home!
I though I heard the old man say -
'Aye, aye, roll along home! -
Bound home for old England we're sailing to-day -
Heave up the anchor and roll along home!
The pilot's aboard and the capstan is manned,
Blue Peter's a-waving farewell to the land,
For after long waiting our orders have come
To heave up the anchor and roll along home -
Roll - roll along home!'
The sails they are bent and the cargo is stowed -
Aye, aye, roll along home! -
And far will her way be and lonely her road -
Shake out the topsails and roll along home!
Yes, long is the road through the storm and the shine
That brings me back home to you, true love of mine;
No longer I'll wander, no further I'll roam,
But shake out my topsails and roll along home -
Roll - roll along home!'
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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Innocence blood
Country, beauty fills it
Home of mother nature
With all the Creature
The voices of children
Is the music of the roses
A child's smile
It is the roses sunlight
A child's laughter
Is nature's patter
Colorful faces
Is the City's rainbow
Now it is country, ugly fills it
Home of a mother warrior
With all the war
The screaming for help
is The Crying of the roses
A child's frown
Is the roses crown
A child's weeping
Is nature's sleeping
Pale faces
Is the City's clouds
Innocence blood
What they have done?
poem by michelle al G
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Josiah Tompkins
I was well known and much beloved
And rich, as fortunes are reckoned
In Spoon River, where I had lived and worked.
That was the home for me,
Though all my children had flown afar—
Which is the way of Nature—all but one.
The boy, who was the baby, stayed at home,
To be my help in my failing years
And the solace of his mother.
But I grew weaker, as he grew stronger,
And he quarreled with me about the business,
And his wife said I was a hindrance to it;
And he won his mother to see as he did,
Till they tore me up to be transplanted
With them to her girlhood home in Missouri.
And so much of my fortune was gone at last,
Though I made the will just as he drew it,
He profited little by it.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Lost and Found
In a southern city lived a wealthy family;
In a southern city was the happy home
Of a father and mother and a little daughter.
In peace and contentment they lived alone.
But one summer evening there happened a misfortune,
Which caused the parents to weep and mourn,
For this little daughter, a loving little treasure,
Was a poor little wanderer far, far from home.
It happened thus, -- the mother went out calling
On a widow friend, who lived all alone;
She left her little daughter in the care of her father,
And through his neglect she wandered from home.
The father rocked his child, till her eyes closed in slumber;
Thought he to himself, I'll go over across the way,
And see a neighbor friend; he'll be there this evening,
And I must see him before he goes away.
He left his little one, he supposed, sweetly sleeping
In her little cradle, in the house alone,
And in his great hurry he left the gate ajar;
This thoughtlessness caused destruction to his home.
Soon after he was gone she awoke from her slumber,
Poor child, she then found herself all alone,
For no one was there, no one heard her weeping
As she wandered away far, far from home.
She wandered along on the busy thoroughbare,
No one seemed to notice this little one alone;
She wandered down Broadway till the little feet were tired,
This poor little wanderer far away from home.
At last, getting weary, she sat down on the pavement,
And soon fell asleep, so tired had she grown;
In her troubled sleep she would softly murmur, papa;
This poor little lost one so far away from home.
A policeman came along and saw her sweetly sleeping,
On the pavement at midnight alone.
He gently picked her up and took her to the station,
This poor little wanderer far away from home.
He advertised, but could not find her parents;
At last he took her to the orphan home,
Where she lived till a farmer in the country
Took her to live with him, this wanderer alone.
The father died o'er the loss of his daughter,
The mother sought for her three years alone;
At last she found her with kind people in the country,
Her poor little wanderer far away from home.
Kind people can imagine the joy of the mother,
When she found her little loving one.
"Oh God," exclaimed the mother, "I have found my little Alice,
My poor little wanderer far away from home.
poem by Julia A Moore
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I Am On My Way Back Home
I am on my way back home
Before the snow storm starts
Because I heard on the radio
That the snow storm could come at any time today
And
That is the weather for today
Also
All the stores are closed already
Because of the bad weather
They are going home early also
At 3: 00 pm I boarded the bus
Thanks god I was on the bus
Because the snow storm started
It was coming down fast and hard
I knew that it would be a long ride
Home on the bus specially when the weather is bad
Like today
On a good day I get home at 6: 00 pm
Today I got home at 9: 00 pm
It was a long day
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Coming Home To See You
You're very much like your mother
And that's a natural fact
But you couldn't look much like your brother's wife
Or anyone like that
And you don't look much like your sister
'Cause she's all big and fat
But don't breath a word to your mean all dad
'Cause I'll be gone midnight
I'm coming home to see you early in the morning
All be around and all the ?birdtrades? today
I'm coming home to see your hard day darling
All aboard, all aboard
Put on some fancy clothes and meet me at the station
Make sure I don't mistake you for your sister Jane
Don't want to see you with tour goddamn relations
That's all for now, I'll se you, chiao
song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gotta Get The First Plane Home
I wont stay around with you my friend
My lifes been empty since I went
Since I went away from home
Im sick and tired of being alone
Theres nothing left for me to do
So I gotta get the first plane home
I gotta get the first plane home
I gotta wing wing[? ] fly high over the see
Theres a little girl whos waiting for me
Love her till my dying day
And when I die youll hear me say
I love that girl for eternity
But I gotta get the first plane home
I gotta get the first plane home
Got to wing wing[? ] fly high over the see
Theres a little girl whos waiting for me
Love her till my dying day
And when I die youll hear me say
I love that girl for eternity
But I gotta get the first plane home
I gotta get the first plane home
I gotta get the first plane home
I gotta get the first plane home
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mother
A mother shows the child the world
A mother is its world when small
A mother shows the child what's love
A mother loves her child like a doll!
A mother makes the home and bed
A mother cares for all at home
A mother trains the child to walk
And stand on own, perfectly talk.
A mother is the teacher prime
A mother moulds the character
A mother shows the child to pray
And trust the unseen God all life.
A mother is the child's best friend
A mother knows its needs and wants
A mother cares for child when sick
And feels so proud, when child achieves.
Children, thank God for a good mother
On ‘Mother's day! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-05-12
poem by John Celes
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Without (Love Poem)
Like a car without a driver
Like a plane without a pilot
Like a boat without a captain
Like a town without a person
Like a hole without a space
Like a map without a place
Like a suit without a man
Like a shoe without a foot
Like a hat without a head
Like a cry without a child
Like a bark without a dog
Like a smile without a face
Like me
Without
You.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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First Things First
There we were, on our flight to London, Paris and Rome
When I realized we must immediately return home
I insisted the Pilot turn the plane around
And get us back down on the ground
The pilot hemmed, jawed and hawed
After all, it was Europe we were headed toward
But when he finally understood, he agreed
To turn the plane around 180 degrees
So we wouldn’t visit the Eiffel Tower, or London’s Big Ben
Forget about the audience with The Pope in the Vatican
It was first things first and I understandably reckoned
That compared to where we were headed, they all came in second
After landing, we grabbed a cab and home we went
Got dollied up for our important event
We dared not be late, couldn’t be tardy
For our annual Writers Club holiday party
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Gypsy Road
I used to be now Im not what you see, lord I try
And now it seems all those dreams have come true, but theyre passing me by
Some fast talkin mama for a dollar put a smile on my face
Im drivin all night
I end up in the same old place
My gypsy road cant take me home
I drive all night just to see the light
My gypsy road cant take me home
I keep on pushin cause it feels alright
And whos to care if I grow my hair to the sky
Ill take a wish and a prayer cross my fingers cause I always get by
Some fast talkin jerk for a dollar wiped the smile off my face
Im drivin all night
Just to keep the rat in the race
My gypsy road cant take me home
I drive all night just to see the light
My gypsy road cant take me home
I keep on pushin cause it feels alright
Sometimes I feel so old
Got my lights burnin bright
But Im lookin pretty sold
Sometimes I feel so cold
So cold
Lets go
Got to get on home
My gypsy road cant take me home
My gypsy road cant take me home, t-t-take me
My gypsy road cant take me home
I drive all night just to see the light
My gypsy road cant take me home
I keep on pushin cause it feels alright
My gypsy road cant take me home
I drive all night just to see the light
My gypsy road cant take me home
I keep on p-p-pushin
My gypsy road
My gypsy road
My gypsy road
My gypsy road
My gypsy road
song performed by by Cinderella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Coming Home
Take my hand
and I will close my eyes
guide me home
and as a child
I will eagerly fantasize
Its been along time since I've been home
and I hope I am nearly there
no matter how far you are, they say
home knows no race, no distance
home is fair
home is at the end of war
home is in the peacfull sun
home is in the mornings breeze
home is where it all began
they say, even if you run away
home can still find you
they say you cant have it all
but occasionaly you deserve do
home is in a Child's laughter
home is in a lover's arms
home is in a new chapter
home is where you make it yours
poem by Ayesha Sartawi
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A day of 1971
The school is three kilometers away.
Akmal was hastily walking towards the school as he was already late.
The school starts at midday.
Mother was insisting him on for long to go to the school.
But Akmal was little reluctant today.
He was experiencing something new in the whole surroundings.
His small psyche could not exactly guess what it was but something very strange was happening around him.
On his way to school Nepalda was chatting with some of his friends at a corner. Nepalda may be five to six years senior to Akmal.
Once Nepalda was Akmal’s house tutor.
Nepalda called Akmal, ‘Hey where are you going today? School? School is closed today. Don’t go’, declared he.
There was enough reason to believe Nepalda for Akmal. After all he was his teacher and he has a good reputation in the society. At least his parents consider Nepalda as a gentle young man.
When Nepalda was saying that the school is closed then he has no reason to proceed further. Yet to be sure he asked Nepalda, ‘Is it true? Our school is closed? ’
‘Yes, my boy. I am not joking with you. ’ Nepalda replied. Then he murmured, ‘Be careful. Go to home and remain in the home. Don’t come out. There may be some exchange of fire. We are ready….the army is advancing…we are ready to obstruct them…go home’.
Akmal understood nothing but he could guess that he has to return to home quickly.
It came to his mind that he did not do his home work today. So certainly he was going to be punished today if the school was open.
He was happy that the school is not open and today nobody will ask him to sit for study in the evening, he expected.
poem by Kazi Ahmed
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Aearial Painting
Aerial Painting
The painting in the hall of an old bi-plane flying
a across a blue sky, was different this morning,
it had landed by a waterfall and the pilots stood
leaning against the plane’s fuselage slowly
smoking a cigarette, eyes closed enjoying every
moment, every inhale of scented tobacco.
I looked at the painting again the sky was dark,
there was lightning in the air the pilot had flown to
the front and collided with a barrage balloon,
the plane was a broken as thrown to the ground by
a spoilt boy who had wanted a fire-engine for his
birthday, and know only the blue sky prevails.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Java's Ghost Nuclear Reactors
live on the island of Java
one of the most densely
populated places on earth
in a suburb on the edge of
Bintaro next to Tangerang
regency over 2.6 million
a few million people in
our suburbs outside Jakarta
a paradox merge mega city
seven districts Ciputat,
Ciputat Timur, Serpong,
Serpong Utara, Pamulang,
Pondok Aren, and Setu
with a total population
of 1.2 million scattered
near my home form part
of Tangerang regency just
a few of many suburbs of
South Tangerang 26 districts
rezoned was 36 districts
3.4 million people in 2009
just one side to a mega city
about 15 k from the nearest
nuclear reactor there are
another two one over an
hour away by car in Bundung
the city my wife's parents
come from here but they
live in a suburb of Jakarta
called Cijantung in East
Jakarta close to city Bogor
on the way to Bundung the
other nuclear reactor is in
Jogakarta big cities suck up
power Jakarta the big durian
never sleeps misses heart beat
but my house is quiet the law
is elastic so like a local here I
usually never wear a motorcycle
helmet within 5 or 10 kilometres
from home unless riding to
nearby Serpong four on the
bike two adults two children
Indonesian style because this
is normal in these our suburbs
but this city in Indonesia kills
over 1500 on the roads yearly
motorbikes hitting potholes in
the road monthly can hit over
30 dead in a single bad pot holed
month but out here we avoid all
smoke-belching three-wheeled
vehicles stinging eyes throats in
hours of snarl traffic or gridlock
a happy man here lives five minutes
from work not two or three hours
of traffic conflict away so worry
over run down reactors does not exit
locals do not even know they are there
immediacy includes no might future fear
Indonesia hugging Pacific ring of fire
volcanoes mud slides kill thousands
Aceh Tsunami 2004 killed 230,000
Indonesians reactors presently score nil
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The City is Short Today
The city is short today
and it can’t be anymore
than just a few blocks wide today
and the city is grey today,
grey and cold
and the city is short today
the skyscrapers,
only a few inches tall now,
sway back and forth,
caught in the grasp of a
sharp, cutting wind,
the sky scrapers rankle me today
and the city is short today
and the people walk about today
like zombies,
tiny zombies,
their faces and clothes
lack any colour,
and they resemble ants,
they wait on the street corner,
waiting for a miniscule bus
to take them out of this
tiny city
and the city is short today,
and grey
and cold
and small,
so very small
and yet, it towers over me.
Copyright (C) MMIV (2004)
poem by Derek R. Audette
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A Haywood City Queen
Haywood City, Cherokee Indian
Reservation Queen
Haywood City, State Of Missouri
Five cemeteries seen
Haywood City, State Of Missouri
40 acres and a Mule
Haywood City, State Of Missouri
Where's The Negro Public School?
Haywood City, state of misery
Indian Royal Slove Queen
Haywood City, State Of Missouri
A Queen has left the scene.
-----
(I am an Undercover-Christian Rite Cherokee Indian, and
I am also a USA Poetry Queen since the good year 2009.)
--
poem by Queen Of England RoyaltyPatrenia Turner
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