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Sharon Talbot Aug 2018
I never knew until now,
Dear Dad, though
I listened to the stories you told,
Of War that re-ignited after the one supposed,
To end all wars, or so it was proclaimed.

You went abroad, your Varsity
Stalled, dreams put aside,
Long before I was born,
Before you met my mother or I was named.

Instead, you wanted to fly,
High above the Bay of Bengal
And the Andaman Sea,
Above the carnage, or so you said.
And that must have seemed a way to save
That sanity
You needed to take you through,
To come back and marry a beloved girl.

I watch the newsreels now,
They are old, with time and victory ingrained.

I can see you flying that high,
Himalayan peaks shining in your eyes,
Cold death above and horror below.
You told me stories, I recall,
Too young for me to imagine.
Now too old for me to hear them all.

You never piloted again
Except in your nightmares.
On a road between moon and sun
In your own history you flew
The infamous, undying path
Of The Burma Run.
My father, an Army Air Force Captain, put off college and piloted cargo planes over "The ****", on the Burma Run from India to China. He wasn't prone to tell stories, yet sometimes he would talk about his flights, the wonder and danger of them, being fired at, watching his friends' planes crash into mountains and land in a war zone. He was proud of his service, yet damaged by it, as is so often the case.
Jacob Lyons May 2018
Skipping beats like rain in July
It was unexpected, but here it is
Still my arms are burning inside
As the heat punches and kicks
Why did I put a heavy coat on?
Just to prove that I was strong?
Strength should be knowing best
And getting this out of my head
So I'll cut off my hair and then
Put sunglasses on instead
Watching the waves of fire
From a distance I can desire
The day has ended once again
But we both know it's not the end

Are we even meant to be?
We can't be our enemies
But I'd really hate to see
You with someone that isn't me
Quit saying you're sorry
We both know what you mean
That the grass could be green
But right now it's all dying
You always get my attention
And my heart, not to mention
I smile when I see your name
I smile when I see your face
The day has ended one more time
But we both know we have the night
nick armbrister Feb 2018
Warhawk and Nate
The Warhawks took off and flew upwards
Like angry hornets looking for trouble
Covering the frail old biplane
A flying camera with brave crew
Tasked to look for enemy locations
Flying here and there warlanes they were
American flown Curtiss fighters
Guarding the Filipino crewed Stearman
On a mission of war in the second global war
The **** were ready and scrambled planes
Nates took off and headed for battle
Each side had skilled determined pilots
Men would die today and planes be wrecked
Like something from Hollywood they clashed
Vicious little snappers reeling about the sky
Rolling turning diving climbing shooting dodging
The battle went till fuel and ammo was gone
Two planes and pilots never made it back
Both fought like demons and paid the price
Each side lost a pilot and plane
They both came to grief on the same mountain
And left comrades and loved ones behind
Bits of broken airplanes on the mountain
Lost forgotten unwanted for decades
Till the wrecks were eventually found
Some answers revealed more questions posed
Only the pilots' ghosts and God knew the truth
In this Tarac Ridge battle February 9 1942
The day Stone and Kurosawa died...
nick armbrister Feb 2018
Tarac
We busted our *****
To get up there
Over a kilometre high
Where the warplanes live
And die a violent death
Meeting their end up above
On towering lonely slopes
As did Lt Stone and Sgt Kurosawa
On the same day seventy six years ago
To the day we went there
As others before had
For we had a job to do
The missing answer to find
To locate the remains of a lost pilot
Named Stone from America
Who flew a Curtiss P-40 Warhawk
In mortal battle with his nemesis
Kurosawa from Japan
With his Nakajima Ki-27 Nate
Both died that day
February 9 1942
And both haunt those inclines
One is angry and lost
One found wants to go home
One likes Hello Kitty
But not the one you think
For my drink tumbler fell
And the guide missed it
It stopped where Stone said
And there we dug dug dug
And found his airplane
Or what was once his warplane
In pieces that were scrap
But had meaning to our group
For it was this plane
That brought us here
Many hours of climbing
Swearing and sweating
To touch the clouds
And be where both hit
At what cost?
Two planes smashed
Two pilots dead
The American protecting Villamoor
The Philippines' best pilot
Who flew his biplane
A Boeing Stearman
On a recon mission
The same type that flies today
With **** English wing walkers
From Clark in Bataan
The same field Kurosawa flew from
Yes synchronicity is here
Eagle Has Landed style
What does this mean now?
In 2018 right now
Is it the pilots' ghosts
Or God or fate or karma
That brought me here
To Tarac Ridge to look
To try to find Stone's bones?
When so many have looked
And failed to find him
Did we really find Lt Stone?
So he's no longer MIA
And captive here
This beautiful mountain side
Where the sky and sea become one
Where Bataan and Corregidor
Are visible
The old battlefields
Where hell occured
Where there are more MIAs
From both sides
Both pilots hunted here
And both became the prey
Paying the ultimate cost
Bent metal and broken bones
Telling a story
Their story
If you listen
You will hear it...
nick armbrister Feb 2018
WAR
WAR

“Why is he not burning?”

“He will, he will, the air is too thin up here…”

Wing over broken wing, crushing g-forces stopping escape,

the enemy pilot prayed to his god but it was too late,

he’s as good as dead.

Sunlight sparkled on the spinning plane a thousand metres below.

Smaller and smaller hard to see in the death spiral.

Will he cry for his mother and scream her name in the thicker air?

When he burns up and if he is still alive? The God of war has struck again and shows no mercy.

Lower air bites and fuel vapour streams through a hundred bullet holes,

catching in a second.

A flash of yellow flame, almost white and a wounded pilot burns,

mercifully unconscious at his life’s end.

War has taken another victim. In the upper air the war rages.

Two more planes fall down, defeated…
Brandon Dec 2017
{Set I: Brandon}
I want to glide underneath the Sun
You know, it's hard sometimes
I want to guide others like I would a son
That's what I love to fantasize
For my enemies, I wouldn't dare a wish on them
Just **** them with kindness and cut their stem

{Set II: Brandon}
"I'd die for you" is easy to say
Everybody makes a list they'd take
Bullets are here and bullets jump there
I'd jump in front of everybody
But I don't seem to see bodies jumping for me
They'll abuse the phrase to conjure false smiles
I can document every situation in my files
People loosely say that they'd live for you
But they fail to realize how hard it is to do
How do you tell them when you know it's not true?
While listening to 'Ride' by 21 Pilots I just sort of thinking about the phrase "I'd die for you". People say it all the time, but do they truly mean it? Personally, I don't know. Enjoy!
BSeuss Aug 2017
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, m
th* f^kng clue.
.
.
.
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, m
th* f^kng clue.

welcome to the room of people who have seen deceitful lovers walk away, while getting paid.

just because we taped our mouths when we left doesn't mean our brains are slain, because of the game.

you'll never know the rebel, siting next to you,
you'll never know the genius, sitting next to you,
you'll have some weird people
sitting next to you.
.
.
.
.
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, m
th* f^kng clue.
.
.
.
we gave some new faces a chance to really truly sell,
they said they had it down script after leaving hell.

some got trust issues yet they flexin,
some are shy while carrying Gods message.

you'll never know the warriors sitting next to you,
you'll have some strange equals spitting out they food.

talking **** to each other,
in their hearts staying true.
.
and after all i've said,
please try to repress (Fck it)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
(F
ck it)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
all my friends are preachers just let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
do not wait until your heading home.
.
.
.
get so drnk, smoke some ****, let loose.
.
.
.
you have no, m
th* f^kng clue.
.
.
.
why you scared we here to change the world.
.
.
.
cannot stand a lying man or girl.
.
.
and now we,
move ghostly,
they hu-unt.
it looks like,
they might banish is us.
--
---
----
--
@ Fibonacci_0
suicide squad soundtrack remix
Misfitkilljoy Aug 2016
I am my own shrink.
Ya i know it might sound a little  crazy,
But some times it helps me think.
Don't think of me as someone lazy,
Because anxiety  is a while lotta  work,
Don't worry  I'm trying.
If you  give me confidence I'll give you a smirk.
It may help me from  feeling like I'm dieing.
Sometimes I feel alone,
But certain things makes me feel alive.
Most of the time I feel like the unknown.
Thank God I have music to survive.
This is dedicated to twenty one pilots. I just love their music so much I understand it so much.
Ashlie Lozano Aug 2016
The truth is, I'm just another mutant kid. Fused at the wrists and hips, these scars will tell you how I've lived.

I've seen the Son's face, if it wasn't for His grace, I don't know how I would have survived this place.

Your songs reminded me that I don't always have to be strong, that my tears weren't always wrong. My Savior offers me haven from the demons that plague this place.

My home is dark and cold, but He set fire to my bones. He set my soul ablaze and I made haste to escape this dreadful place.

I've thrown away all my ammunition, put aside all my false traditions. I've canceled all my plans, I've proven the enemy as a scam.

And now instead of taking it out on my wrist, I've turned my gun to a fist.
Okay so I wrote this kind of as a "what would I say to Twenty One Pilots?" kind of deal. Their music has helped me so much and inspired me to do even more. So, yeah lol.
noor Jul 2015
i care what you think
i may not act like it
i may not show it
but i do

a single comment about my hair
can make me hide it in despair
with the ever so lame excuse
which no one notices me misuse;

'they don't look good today'

a single comment about my weight
can make joining a gym my fate
with the ever so lame excuse
which no one notices me misuse;

'i'm doing this just for myself'

a single comment about my overbite
can make me get braces, real tight
with the ever so lame excuse
which no one notices me misuse;

'it makes closing my mouth impossible'
// my name's blurryface and i care what you think //
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