From Chicago to Atlanta on the 5:45
I contemplate the fragility of being alive
I sit on the wing with a view of great breadth
While I dream about life and wonder of death

The sun has just set, the moon kisses the sky
And the atmosphere echoes its exhaling sigh
As darkness sets in, the graduation emerges
So I, in the sky, view its majesty in surges

The window is a frame of the moon as a crescent
And I spot a town way down, like a queen to her peasant
There is life, there is motion, there is somewhere to be
There is conflict, there are problems, and then there is me

I snap out of passivity like a casual thought
To locate the flight attendant complementary cart
Since her mobile vending machine is a couple rows down
I return to pensivity and stare at the ground

The tail lights of cars pulse when my true focus starts
As if they were red blood cells exiting the heart
There is a conversation I over hear from 27 E
The girl has dreams of studying alone in Italy

The man has a daughter and he rocks in his seat
They talk like old friends even though they just meet
There are young men in the Navy, and business folks
There is an air of community, peanuts, and hope

As my ears pop constantly and we climb higher
I think of my future and to what I aspire
And I wonder if there's anyone I'll see here again
Close and far away strangers, a view from a plane

The clouds are boring now
as I exist in a realm outside reason and romance.
These clouds are aimlessly
splattered on a dull blue sky
by a tried Artist
feeling uninspired…unrealized.

Is there any hope
for the Artist
and our world he tries to paint?
Why must the artwork continue
to destroy itself!
I destroy me
by staying stagnant and unamused.

Perhaps sometimes art
must be boring to soothe the soul

tracks on the airport road (by planes)
to cleaners it would be stains that cannot be rid of
to people it would be a sight of imperfection and age
but to me
it signifies a routine
of a plane that was sent off
and back again
a routine of safety
a routine that people take for granted

I met you and my life changed for the better
everything seemed to have  a brighter color because
you started a fire inside of me that I didn't even know was possible.
Being around you made everything okay
but now I'm in tears on a plane and I am blaming you.
I thought I was getting better because of you
but I was only absorbing your light.
I was washing your hair while in the shower at five the morning
because you spent the night and your phone lit up "princess"
I can't believe I didn't realize  that your princess isn't me and
your princess never will be me and I hate you so much for
letting me love you  with no intention of loving me back

If I could hijack all the planes
That land and take off in between us
I would
If I could calm this storm
So we can see clearly
Right before we forget what love even looks like
I would

But my love,
All I can try to do
With these endless days ahead
Is to trust
That when the fog fades
You'll still be looking for me

as the plane came in to land
i believed i was descending into the very gates of hell
the mountains circling the area jutting like a devil's jaw
waiting to swallow us whole

ripping holes in the sky
clouds bleeding an unnatural red as the sun set.

in the hotel i turn off the light
and lie in the humid darkness
listening to the storm raging outside

the devils are hungry now
their stomachs yelling angrily
their eyes flashing bright across the blackness
as they hunt for their prey

and the sky cries heavy rains of grief
for its wounded victims.

A month ago I sat in class
in a New England School for boys
Now, I'm in a bomber group
Adjusting to the noise

I made plans for Harvard
A doctor, I would be
Then my life would turn
In a way I didn't see

The war was on in Europe
We saw in the press
But, 18 days before Christmas
we were pulled into the mess

Future plans were put aside
Our country we'd support
We'd forget all of our future thoughts
We'd join, though not for sport

We signed up down in Boston
Young men flyers, soldiers all
Preparing for a battle
Many would not live till fall

We thought not of our future
Our present, all we had
Many dead by Christmas next
The thought is truly sad

You do not what you want to
But, what needs to be done
You go from boy to man so fast
You've barely walked...now run

Think back on those who made it
Remember who did not
Young men they are forever
They deserve a longer thought

The air is pure and holy
It is scattered with young souls
Boys, now men who went to war
And put aside their goals