Ice Fly
How many pilots died and old aircraft lost when they flew over jagged snowy peaks in the remotest corners of the world? Doing a dangerous job knowing the risks and trusting in fate and luck to bring the through. Some never made it, there planes impacting vertical mountain sides in sickening crashes. Bodies lost forever, frozen in the time of death. Icily cold and otherworldly remote.

From the Andes to Himalayas, Alps to the Rockies. If you screw up or your engine stops, you’re going to crash and suffer. Survive and you’re screwed, twenty thousand feet above sea level with no chance of rescue, just a slow cold death.

Of the ones who live and beat death in the mountains, they have stories to hold their grand kids in awe. Did you really fly a C-46 over the Hump, risking Jap fighters and Mother Nature? Sure did son, it was a walk in the park. Of the ones who didn’t make it, they remain forever on coldly beautiful mountains holding up the roof of the world.

Maybe their ghost will remain there forever, in rapture of the beauty of icy mountains, forgetting how they died.

Z Trista Davis Dec 2017

I love looking at highways from aeroplanes,
They snake across the blotchy, flat earth
And slither into the endless blue haze,

I wonder what they find there,
Is it love or death?
Or old friends?
Or happiness?

Perhaps, their happiness
Is in the curly-q designs
They scrawl like ancient script

I trace it,
Running my fingers over three-pane glass,
Until they disappear

And the clouds look like fingers and hands,
Reaching out to touch me,
Expanding with every breath I take,
Calling me down to the river,
Calling me down to the trees

But my happiness is in the single, breathless moment of take-off,
The moment I feel my heart lurch,
And bang into the something inside me pushing me forward,
Into the illusory blue




Sincerely Nov 2017

You are no winner,
So don’t act like I’m a prize to be won.
You can’t pay your way to win me.
I am a challenge, indeed.
I am not supposed to be easy to win over.
Because I’m not.

So bet all you like.
Say all you want.
Throw what you want;
Paper planes, words.
I don’t care anymore.

When you mistake bugs
crawling on a white, blank sheet
for ink blots, or dark stains,

It's just like when the stars
you see in the pitch black sky
move, and turn into planes.

Written walking how from work at night, in Canterbury, Autumn 2016.
CGW Oct 2017

Midnight strikes the clock.
The clicking of boots echos through out a cold Polish town.
Upon worn out streets and wet roads there walks Nazi Germany.
Fear the sky.
Fear the ground.
Fear the deep below.
The deathly silence smells of stale air and Nazi flags.
Break the air with an iron hammer.
Down the come;
One by one they land like seagulls by a cold ocean.
Smash the houses.
Smash the roads.
Smash everything.
The city melted to a puddle like chocolate in a microwave.
Fragments of rusty metal and broken concrete scatter the piles of rubble like icing on cake.
Above in the dark sky a German fighter pilot rests comfortably in his plane.
His solid black glasses reflects upon the cold sun.
His black rubber oxygen mask is apart of his body.
Plane propellers slice through the thick air like a knife cutting through cold butter.
Dawn is coming and the indigo sky crys.

I was inspired by Pink  Floyd

Our childhood's prime game;
Creating a paper plane.
Making it fly high,
But it never reached the sky.

We would continue to raise the bar,
But still we wouldn't get very far.
We would trust a redesign,
But never anything different from our own design.

We would work soley for ourselves;
To keep the success to ourselves.
We would spend all day redesigning a paper plane,
But never on redesigning our life's shame.

We live for a paper plane
And its thrill - day by day.
We would accept our life's flaws,
But never our paper plane's flaws.

We would live for irrelevant people and objects,
But never for our own salvation.
We would live with a self-opinionated attitude,
But why do we now live with our opinion based on that of the world?

We live like a paper plane;
Flying high, just to be redesigned.
The world never helps us stay sane
As we're always seen as a failed design.

Victoria Laws Jun 2017

i woke up one morning
and left.
i needed to get out
so i booked a flight
and left.

that day
as i ran
you texted.
you wanted to see me that night.
i told you i booked a flight
and left.
you stopped texting.

i ran faster.

seat 10b
felt the loneliest.
i cradled my journal
and forced my eyes open;
if i fell asleep
i knew i'd surely
dream of you.

i didn't want to escape
into my dreams
because i knew
i'd wake up in a

i stared at the empty seat next to me
seat 10a
and imagined your form
uncomfortably cuddled up
in a cramped space.
you'd be sleeping
listening to Bowie.
i wouldn't be able to sleep,
i'd be staring at you.

this is why i booked a flight.
and left.

you're everywhere.
i'm drowning in your memory.  
you're my only dream,
but you're too much
of a nightmare.

Tyler Matthew Jun 2017

At the airport she kissed me,
said she would miss me,
gathered her bags and was gone.
I stood in the car lot,
realized I forgot
precisely which plane she was on,

So I drew my eyes skyward,
watching each tin bird,
and hoping she's watching me, too.
I got on the highway,
then pulled into my driveway,
as the space between us grew.

VD Lee May 2017

Streetlamps pass by my windowpane
As the wheels turn, so does the day
I feel the weariness creep onto my brain
My eyes watch the sky as it turns gray

Back at the tracks I worked myself out
Blisters tore into my soles and soul
But I know when I reach the end of the route
My life will soon again be caught in my control

Because I know that my darling will be waiting there
And we'll both have a life just for us

She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck
She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a lusty peck
And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars
Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars

No matter how strong the wind may be
No matter the deadliness of the sun
I'll walk and wait throughout the barren country
Just so I can be with my loved one

Because I know she'll be standing, looking fair
And she'll embrace me at the stop of the bus

She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck
She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a lusty peck
And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars
Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars

The wind is growing colder now
It's been hours since I've been indoors
My toes are stiffer than I would allow
I don't think they'll again touch my home's floors

As hunger and sleep dominate my sides
I see my sweetie still waiting alone
The visions push me and become my guides
Because my unfortunate days are agone

She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck
She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a lusty peck
And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars
Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars

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