Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Magic carpet

Submitted by shazbat on Tue, 2011-12-27 17:12

So you rode the magic carpet
And you sailed above the skies
You were taken by the beauty
You were blinded by the lies
As you soared up through the heavens
You could sense the angel’s sighs
They had seen into your future
And they witnessed loves demise
Now you head towards disaster
With no one to hear your cries
As you cling on to your memories
And the cold wind burns your eyes

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

shazbat

Wed, 2011-12-28 17:08

shazbat's picture

Lonnie, I know, it's not like me, but I was critisised recently for making light of most things. I do have a serious side, though for the most part it's kept hidden (just to keep the buggers guessing). I'm glad that you approve, I may even do a few more although there are no guarantees

John

I used to be quite serious
All work and not much play
But life is far to short
And getting shorter by the day
With no more wife and no more house
And no more bills to pay
I do whatever pleases me
And everything’s okay

author comment

weirdelf

Thu, 2011-12-29 14:11

weirdelf's picture
Volunteer badge

I admire your craft. No crits.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

Nordic cloud

Sun, 2012-01-08 03:01

Nordic cloud's picture

The title caught my attention I've always loved the idea of flying, dreaming I was above the family swimming the air and I could control the flight easily, that was wonderful. Then I flew, the first member of my family to fly, to Norway in 1950 at the age of ten; a Vickers Viscount propeller plane, and spent most of my time in the cockpit, also wonderful. Now, of course I have flown here and there in all sorts, once ten minutes on my log book of gliding, that appealed to me very much; catching thermals with the vultures. Not to mention the storm over Paris in 1959 when in a tiny rattly leaking plane packed with students at 10 pounds from Italy, that was so dramatic, red sunset, black rolling clouds beside me and the pane fair doing the tango, wonderful.

But a carpet wow wouldn't that e just something, we get the chance for that through the children's tales on TV or film, but its not quite the same.

I like this poem its good. Ann

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.