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#helicopter
They call it a chopper For the way the blades slice the air, For the way the sound slices your eardrum And minces your gut as it approaches. Chopped could describe the exterior, Banged-up in a way where you almost feel safer drowning than being lifted into its cage. Chopped are the words Spoken by the coastguard As they try to secure you; you can’t Distinguish their voices from the wind, From the drum in your ears. They call it a chopper, And expect you to be happy To see it.
0
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 4:07 PM UTC
Chopper
On the road outside Of the fence The Border Collie hears The call of the Doggies On the inside Enclosed behind The wooden fence The Alaskan malamute The Drever, the Poodle Bustle the edge of the barrier Bark, bark, bark A cacophony Let us out Let us come with you Pledging to obey, The Collie On hind legs Of a towering stature Lifts a paw Finds the latch The gate creaks open Uncorking in celebration They run in gleeful circles Hounds to escape artists Unbound and free from tyranny Of a heartless master Marking their new territory Of tree trunks Sidewalks and fields Have you ever seen Such jubilation Mirth and gaiety Wagging their tails Like helicopter blades With gail force glee They take off Like upside down rain Up, up, up Every which way Friends forever Boundless canines In search of the next immured pooch who waits For the musketeers
0
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC
Helicopter Blades
I love it when Lisa and I take our show out and, on the road, like this twilight helicopter flight, from New Haven to LaGuardia. I’m so excited about tonight, it’s possible that I might implode. The rotor blades started twirling, our luggage had been stowed, the pilot asked Lisa. “Ready for takeoff?” Lisa grinned saying, “Let's go!” He gave her a quick and crisp salute and the engine noise started to grow. As we went wheels-up, the whirly-birds warning lights began to strobe. Yep, It’s the start of November recess and we’re changing our zip code. We rise like a balloon, at first, until the harbor comes into view. The engines were screaming like jets, when the whole world turned askew, I’ve done numerous take-offs like this, but it still feels like I might spew. Above the rear cockpit window, there’s an air-speed indicator that looks like a clock. With a quick turn over Yale’s campus, we’re going 90 as we steak over the docks. As we ascend into the night, the twinkling lights of New Haven seem to shrink. We’re swiftly gaining altitude, this quivering contraption, moves faster than you’d think. As the red numbers settle at 260, the vibrations have all but ceased, The engine noise is gone as well, as we race up, in the darkness and out over the sea. I try not to think of the inky black water, how far we would fall and how quickly we’d sink. Long Island Sound glittered, like fractured glass, under the waxing crescent moon. The forever-blue sky was hosting a large, fake-star, because Venus was glowing there too. That dark almost-orbit was prettier than the infinity-of-lights we’ll see on Park Avenue. We’ll be meeting Peter’s flight from Geneva - a surprise - he doesn’t have a clue. As the lights of New York become pronounced, so does my excitement that he’ll be around. I’m sure we’ll get a moment of quiet intimacy at the LaGuardia international arrivals lounge.
0
Nov 20, 2023
Nov 20, 2023 at 8:55 AM UTC
a twilight rising
I love it when Lisa and I take our show out and, on the road, like this twilight helicopter flight, from New Haven to LaGuardia. I’m so excited about tonight, it’s possible that I might implode. The rotor blades started twirling, our luggage had been stowed, the pilot asked Lisa. “Ready for takeoff?” Lisa grinned saying, “Let's go!” He gave her a quick and crisp salute and the engine noise started to grow. As we went wheels-up, the whirly-birds warning lights began to strobe. Yep, It’s the start of November recess and we’re changing our zip code. We rise like a balloon, at first, until the harbor comes into view. The engines were screaming like jets, when the whole world turned askew, I’ve done numerous take-offs like this, but it still feels like I might spew. Above the rear cockpit window, there’s an air-speed indicator that looks like a clock. With a quick turn over Yale’s campus, we’re going 90 as we steak over the docks. As we ascend into the night, the twinkling lights of New Haven seem to shrink. We’re swiftly gaining altitude, this quivering contraption, moves faster than you’d think. As the red numbers settle at 260, the vibrations have all but ceased, The engine noise is gone as well, as we race up, in the darkness and out over the sea. I try not to think of the inky black water, how far we would fall and how quickly we’d sink. Long Island Sound glittered, like fractured glass, under the waxing crescent moon. The forever-blue sky was hosting a large, fake-star, because Venus was glowing there too. That dark almost-orbit was prettier than the infinity-of-lights we’ll see on Park Avenue. We’ll be meeting Peter’s flight from Geneva - a surprise - he doesn’t have a clue. As the lights of New York become pronounced, so does my excitement that he’ll be around. I’m sure we’ll get a moment of quiet intimacy at the LaGuardia international arrivals lounge.
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24
the clatter of machinery invades my bedroom as rotors defeat gravity for as long as fuel allows someone's on the run headed for the woods at the back of my house why do they think the darkness of trees and undergrowth will hide them from infrared's all seeing eye, their journey to freedom is about to end dramatically under spotlight I've got to get up for work in under four hours
0
Aug 11, 2022
Aug 11, 2022 at 9:07 AM UTC
police helicopter
sky is the limit first historic flight on Mars ~ ingenuity Mark Toney © 2021
0
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 9:24 AM UTC
Perseverance
delaminated I've broken free the blade undone cover me with a round of fire and I'll meet you on the landing strip but where's the safety net? where are the professionals? it's not war that chills my spine this time it's the final take
0
Dec 15, 2022
Dec 15, 2022 at 9:56 AM UTC
When That Helicopter Comes
The metal floor is slicky Desert heat amplifies The odor of ***** and blood Mostly empty IV bags hang on their stands Packaging from numerous medical supplies Litter the ground Quickly and carefully I clean and spray and sweep and scrub I sort and pack and refit and reorganize Preparing the chopper for the next call Lives were saved But I don’t know what will become of them Some will leave the Army Some will come back here Some will do the job the enemy couldn’t do And take their own lives I can’t think about that This is hard enough
0
Feb 10, 2020
Feb 10, 2020 at 11:02 AM UTC
Turnaround
Turning Burning Learning Yearning Blackhawk turning, HIT, cockpit burning Troops learning of war, yearning for home
0
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 10:16 AM UTC
Autorotate
the helicopter like a dragonfly in the air
0
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 6:47 PM UTC
the helicopter - a modern haiku
A heave of the earth. Hillsides of structures collapsing; cascades of rock and vegetation; liquid shifting of terrain; the silent screams of trapped and torn people. We turned towards the worst damage. Rotors, engine, and radio were the Only sounds.
0
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
Epicenter
Helicopter in the air Searching for those on the run Holding the greenness of shattered glass A tight embrace of the natural beauty A rock tied to mine locks Padlocked as I creep the stairway of life Evolution of flames and fallacies A sly that promises no tears Compelled to paste the puzzle together A locomotion of pieces to a system Never to be afraid of who we are United uniqueness to be the ones of a kind Are we the loyal dogs who bark by the rivers? Waiting for the tides to wash us away Singing as the sun reflects beautiful ways The tales of a long ago uncovers my soul
0
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
Mine Locks
Stop trying to hold me still I'm sure you mean well, But your grip can **** Your voice is haunting me How can I find my way When you're holding so tightly?
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 9:27 PM UTC
Quick Sand
He’s young, so very young, And beautiful. Dark, broody, beautiful! No fear in his eyes- Only quiet confidence. You fly by night With sight of the owl, You climb with your eagle machine, Fiercely, conquering the night. Skilfully, lovingly, victoriously!
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
ORYX IN THE NIGHT
Roly poly helicopter Spinning and toppling on a splatter of pink liquid paint The sharp sound of blackberries and the taste of an oboe Under the neon night sky glinting with frozen lollipops
0
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
The Night Out