Gently indifferent, resolved, hardened in stasis
As rain on unallowing concrete
In earthbound unflow downward:
Gravity’s darkbow so torpid

Roaring past chronology:
the machinery of 10 minutes later, blurring
echo and desire, calling
time bygone time.
Lying.
Murmuring and rustling, grasped in closure, the absence of leaves
Subtly and steadily
The absence of mother.

In obeisance I cede to these greater forces and stoically belt myself
Insufficient enough and ready in faith
That ever comforting rope

An irrevocable condition, tethered
beyond windows cruel and secure,
communion estranged,
in a handful of sand,
scattered to some outside home
tenderly viewed

Yellow the visage glares oblique
A hazy, flat omen
Blinking, too, as it drives onward
Sentimentally no longer:
The sterile plane of a new day

Gentle, gentle waking world
Icarus me in sky not sea

The train huffs and bellows;
Screeching tracks sparking
Waves of rolling roaring
Like stretched thunder,
Booming in rapid motion.

Above, a plane traces an arc
Of breathy fury, compressed
And exploding voraciously.
It erupts in ignited screams
Across the moon-lit sky.

Always, too, the forever pops
And sliding-low gurgling of cars
And trucks and motorbikes, vague
Ticks of missing-beats, sparse
Rumbles of howling engines and

Flashing sirens piercing
Continuous above it all.
A cat (probably) somewhere
Screams nearby.

All returns to normal.

Unfinished conversations
linger in the air,
dropping low—
the weight of 242 innocent souls.

Time is fluid, here

on the plane, we are floating --


in moments of now.

I got on the go-away train
The same one I wished on while you were gone

My bags all packed for the plane
One last hope left in the side pocket

A hope you might not let me go
Squished between my toothbrush and t-shirts

But we both listened to the whistle blow
And you watched the go-away train take me

How could you let there be oceans between us?
When I can barely stand a centimetre

Why, when you just sit there motionless,
Do I have to crawl the earth to keep up with you?

We are on a plane. We are on a plane and flying fast enough to cross the world in days. We are crossing the world in small increments. Every minute is one hour closer to home. Every minute is one hour, and every 24 hours is 365 days.

What difference does one year make?  One year later, I am wearing new clothes. One year later, I am singing fresh songs. I am in the air with nothing but white clouds and blue skies ahead.

A flight delayed
Can take a toll
Schedules remade
Like dominoes fall
Yet plan A
Can be overrated
Trust that plan B
Is what we truly needed.

To ride a plane
Is to let go.
Entrust and rely
On the pilot’s hands
Pray he be guided
By the Mighty One
Boarding this vessel
With several other humans
Who likewise let go
Of control from their hands
Trust and faith
Are what we need
In moments like this
We relax and yield.

Rev Pea
It's all about the features and benefits
Make a product which will benefit
The users satisfaction oh yes
An aeroplane that delivers
All promised things and more
This one they got right
Even if it's costly beyond compare

For a century it'll reap profits
Make them rich beyond realms
Not to mention the next one
More capable more costly
More profits more sold
Lockheed did this right
No revenue in peace