#planes
How can I make myself better for you?
You have always said that I am perfect,
But I know deeply that that isn’t true.
I’m practically a living defect,
And though you say that you cannot select
A single thing about me you would change,
I know that you lie; I try to correct;
But my mark is Beyond Visual Range.
I know that I am deeply wrong and strange-
Not quite the human I pretend to be-
An F-15C, sick with decades’ mange,
I’m obsolete, but you won’t retire me.
I ask if you’re ok, you say you’re alright-
Unmodernized I stall, swallowed by the night.
May 13
May 13, 2026 at 1:18 AM UTC
Thank you for waking me up on time
to make my flight.
I bought you a ticket, even though
you can’t come along.
I smile as you
carefully fold my favorite dress,
while I scramble
and scrape beneath the bed for my suitcase.
You smile too, but
I see the sadness rest on your lips.
It’s silent; so unforgiving.
I want to softly kiss it away,
for hours,
in a place where our bed is made,
but only for a moment,
and our memories patiently
wait their turn.
I’m not sure when I’ll land, but
I’ll keep your seat vacant
and pretend
that the clouds are your favorite part
of flying too.
I’m not sure where I’ll land, but
I’ll be able to see it all in color,
because you taught me how.
I’m not sure when I’ll land, but
I hope it will be on schedule.
Maybe next time,
we will be too.
Aug 28, 2025
Aug 28, 2025 at 10:06 PM UTC
Will be leaving soon for Orlando,
Away from the cold in Ontario.
Will I return?
I really don't know.
A wacko may secretly board my plane;
A radicalized lunatic far from sane.
Or Canada geese, heading south,
Might take our fuelled jet engines out.
Some random lightning shot from the sky
Lights up our cockpit,
And the pilots die.
The landing gear is up and stuck...
“I don't think I drank enough!”
There's mad rage on the road
Between
Orlando and St. Augustine.
There’s snub-nosed guns in too many bags,
And the pubs are teeming with cougars and *****
The Matanzas flows with gators and sharks,
I'll make note of this as my kyak embarks.
A drunken driver could do the job;
Or I get hospitalized
From being robbed.
An Early Bird bone might make me choke,
Or an errant golf ball holes out in my throat.
Perhaps nothing happens, I’m too suspect
Of the possible perils from my Florida trek.
Is it worth the risks. I’ll let you know,
When I get back to the warmth of Ontario.
Jan 11, 2025
Jan 11, 2025 at 12:03 PM UTC
Find myself, find myself- trying to find something to write about;
the words arrive as if they owe me a debt for the reflections
I’ve already invested. If you could loan me a few phrases,
to bank on crafting something that’s truly worth your time.
We shared a moment, you pouring out your thoughts while
I absorbed every word, my voice trapped in a writer’s block.
Kissing by that corner, parked in my feelings- we took a neutral
agreement that our first kiss would remain a secret between us.
But we had shifting ideas; you preferred discretion, while I
yearned to shout from the rooftops about finally kissing a girl.
But I… had this imagination of being able to read your mind
by your eyes spelling of tears- each time you cried out what
your first relationship should be. But could it be just me,
thinking that you were hinting at something, when you
spoke those words, to maybe pass a hint at me?
And I’m like a folding chair for the memory of you, sitting
on my mind- folding into myself; collapsing inward, delicate
as paper ready to be transformed into paper planes- the again,
I was just a guy flying around your head.
_A fly by night crush._
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 3:29 PM UTC
There flew the **** bomber low over a town
The front gunner shot at people he spotted
Short random bursts zipping out mostly missing
Bullets bouncing off roads houses walls
Some thudding into people quite lethally
Nobody shoots back this raider has surprise
And speed with daring to keep him safe
Plus eight guns to shoot if intercepted
The English fighters are always hungry
To nail a *** especially one aggressive like this
The Dornier zooms here and there gunning away
Having already dropped his bombs on target
A mid-sized engineering factory making items
For the war effort which killed German troops
It was now time to expend some bullets
Do some more killing on English targets
A grandmother was a target as was a postman
The Dornier curved round and headed for home
His ammo half expanded he continued
Roaring over rooftops a hundred feet up
His nose gun and other guns spit forth death
This was only one **** plane what of a hundred?
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 9:02 AM UTC
trapped on this flying bus
they just turned out the lights
do they not want us to see each others’ faces?!
while we plummet to our fiery deaths?!
Mar 2, 2023
Mar 2, 2023 at 9:12 PM UTC
Shiden-Kai
After the battle
Fishing the plane
From the water
No fighter pilot
Where is he?
Gone far away
Where warriors go
Shiden-Kai pilot
One of six
Lost that day
B-Sans or Hellcats
All the same
Way back '45
Old fading times
Not even memories
Don't forget them
Of all sides
Silence ...
Dec 29, 2021
Dec 29, 2021 at 7:49 PM UTC
When they came down from their disk
With their blinding lights
And their alloy ramps
It quickly became obvious
Unexpectedly, in our hubris,
That they wished only to
Gas up,
Take some pictures of squirrels
And stretch their limbs
Before setting out toward a finer frontier.
Aug 31, 2021
Aug 31, 2021 at 10:24 PM UTC
The winds from where you grew up
Strike conversations at midnight
Your thoughts, now paper planes
Take off into memory lanes
And your feet, aching soles
Search for branches, and petals
That remind you of home
The taste of sweet dates still dancing on your tongue
Sweet syrup stretches its limbs
Through your nose
Sensations of a past soaked in white noise
When did you leave it behind?
And you think back to the time
When you walked with your naïve self
Too young to comprehend
Back onto a boat
In those dreams that never escape you
Called memories
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 12:28 PM UTC
planes
planes
planes
rows and rows
of planes
never again to fly
up in the sky's terrains
planes
planes
planes
rows and rows
of planes
sent to the Mojave Desert's
dry weather vanes
planes
planes
planes
rows and rows
of planes
parked forever out of
the corosive rains
planes
planes
planes
rows and rows
of planes
lie idle within their
grounded lanes
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 4:34 AM UTC
i wonder
how we managed
to convince our hands
not to hold onto each other
when we said goodbye.
now, i'm writing
inside this flying can;
thinking this might be the closest
to a home.
these small seats,
with even smaller legs space.
these funny-shaped windows,
where all you can see are
white clouds,
and sporadically
some lights.
tiny houses,
with even tinier people.
and us,
tiny giants,
reading overpriced perfume catalogs,
listening to mispronounced english,
using disposable low-fidelity headphones,
inside low-light low-love low-cost
low-everything
airplanes.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 9:35 AM UTC
i have atom bomb dreams
from the desert
mushroom clouds billowing
the shockwave blow past cacti
and down dirt roads
from the cockpit of a b-29
leveling the ground below
already comprised of craters
as we pummel the earth
we become a might to match the gods
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 1:00 PM UTC
With wearied ways the air looks grey
It's colour stains surrounding planes
Heavy clouds weigh eyelids down
Condensed to rest as momentum slows
Mellow tones and energy spent
Low on conversation goals
All but empty sentiments
No plans today, worn out to play
Sleep instead behinds your gaze
Dreaming to regenerate
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 6:29 AM UTC
my head was in the clouds
but now i'm on the ground
i keep thinking about the sky
but i can't go back now
remember what it was like
dancing upon the air
wind in my soul
cotton in my hair
i miss the hum
of distant planes
i used to be free
now i'm weighed down by chains
my head was in the clouds
but now i'm on the ground
i fell from the sky
and lost all i found
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 6:13 PM UTC
Soviets are like mosquitoes
Always there in the environment
There’s no escape from them
They get in your head
So they rule you remorsessly
By power of paranoia
A bite is a bullet
An infection is a bomb
A disease is a nuclear blast
Mosquitoes are Russians
Russians are mosquitoes
Waiting to be eradicated
By a superior power
Always ready for war
Endless circle of deceit
Mosquito flight round you
Looking for an opening
To attack you
While you sleep
The Russian way
Keep you off guard
Then get you
But not if we strike
And drain their pond
Spray them with insecticide
So they never breed again
No more Novichok
Or nukes or bio weapons
Finally we are safe
Except from our own
FECKING PARANOIA!!!
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 9:23 PM UTC
Technology marches forward,
Never stopping,
Technology marches forward,
Always progressing.
It permeates our homes,
It resides in our pockets,
The big company's own Sherlock Holmes,
Seeing deep within our lockets.
It gets us where,
We want to go,
Through the air,
Or through the traffic flow.
It runs our lives,
Leading us along,
Like bees in hives,
We follow it's rhythmic song.
Technology marches forward,
Not caring for its creators,
Technology marches forward,
As humanities technological dictators.
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
calling a lost lover
to begin to head on over
this bedroom was only a boarding gate
and this bed your layover.
Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC
Gods omnipresence
tiptoes east to west
strategically
over thirty three
aisles of light planes .
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 10:48 PM UTC
I ******* HATE PLANES
I ******* HATE PLANES
EVERY TIME I FLY
IT'S ALWAYS THE SAME
SIXTEEN HOURS
OF INESCAPABLE PAIN
SITTING IN A CABIN
WITH MORE BABIES THAN BRAINS
IF IT'S TOO ANNOYING
THE WINDOW SEAT IS GREAT
I CAN JUMP THE **** OUT
AND ESCAPE MY ****** FATE
HOW IS THIS EDIBLE?!!
IT LOOKS LIKE THE HAIR OF A CHEST
WHAT WOULD BE MORE TASTEFUL
IS THE ******* ARMREST
ITS' COLD, IT'S DRY,
I WANT TO CRY
BUT THEN I'D DISTURB THE PEOPLE NEARBY
BUT AT LAST, IT STOPS
EMERGENCY LANDING
A CORPSE LIES THERE
IN SEAT 32B
IT'S ME!
IT'S ME!
THE CORPSE IS ME
I DIED
LIKE FIVE TIMES
OR AT LEAST DEAD IS WHAT I'D RATHER BE
FLYING IS A CURSE
THAT DRIVES ME INSANE
BECAUSE I ******* HATE PLANES
I ******* HATE PLANES
Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC
Your love was like a paper plane
so fragile and filled with pain
now you've got me feeling insane
and all I've got is a broken plane.
.
.
.
Mehek
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 7:14 AM UTC
Forty years after its birth the rebel F-20 is an angel of the sky.
Purple in colour to blind its enemy’s eyes, it has laser weapons
and thrust-vectored engines controlled by thought.
This is the craft for mercenaries flown by the daring
and 21st century knights into battle –
they fight for the new republic and the ancient rebel way
against an old royal enemy as deadly as the devil.
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 3:19 PM UTC
_If you're looking for a reason not to **** yourself tonight, this can be it._
Sometimes, we feel as if nothing matters.
We all do.
So i made a list of a few of my own reasons,
13 Reasons Why
I'm still alive.
And hopefully you'll change your mind.
Those moments you feel happy, and nothing but lucky.
And you wish nothing will ever change.
I will try my best.
_Reason 2. Paper Planes._
It sounds very weird; paper planes, but let me explain. Think about the times when you're walkin in a hallway on your way to a test, and you see a friend from a different class who already took it. You look at them and they immediately shout what you have to read, and you shout back the answer from the homework's last question. Or when you're in class, writing a disstrack about the teacher and annoying the **** out of them because the whole class just knew without telling we had to annoy the teacher. So you fold boats, make hats and trow clots of paper. When you have slack lay in class. When you trow paper planes and when everyone gets a F on the math test. When two of your friends want to sit next to you so you finally have a group of 12 people and don't do a **** during class. That feeling of luck, of happiness, of friendship and the feeling of stomach pain from laughing. Like you belong here. That feeling when you just have to smile. It's hard to explain but i hope you get it.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC