"aircraft" poems
Erebus disaster - November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is Vanda Station.
We have clear weather with no cloud and little wind.
If you want to fly over the dry valleys we will flash you with our signal mirrors so you can pinpoint the station.
Vanda Station, this is NZ niner zero one
Roger, we are now just north of Cape Hallett and will call you again for directions.
November Zulu Niner zero one Vanda Station.
Roger It’s a right hand turn just after Beaufort Island.
For the next few hours
There was no word
worst feared not heard
The radio crackled through the night
In the un natural sound of SSB
All crew up drinking coffee and tea
with the midnight sun
Glued to the HF single sideband
November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is
mac centre mac centre
howcopy
November zulu niner zero one
This is
vanda station vanda station
five four zero zero
Relay relay mac centre mac centre
Please contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Relay relay mac centre
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen howcopy
All through the night
Over and over
Hour after hour
The same message
Until that fateful call
Feared by all
Mac centre mac centre
This is
navy three two one
wreckage sighting wreckage sighting howcopy
mac centre
navy three one niner
Longitude
One six sefen
Two sefen echo
Latitude
Sefen six
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre mac centre
This is
Navy three two one
Correction Correction
I say again latitude
I say again Latitude
Sefen sefen
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre
Navy three two one
Ahh ahh mac centre There appear to be no survivors
Howcopy
So it was then,
That the on board data longitude error some would blame for the crash
Is something that happens often but is accommodated by good airmanship
by not relying on one thing alone.
was repeated in similar fate
by a latitude error
in the crash site location message
from the search aircraft XD01-48321
that found a terrible sight
that the sun stayed up on late
on a truly awful night
when 257 souls met their fate.
©GARY LEWIS.2009
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
I don’t care,
That you don’t care,
About caring about
What I care for.
And you know what?
I don’t care that
You won’t care for
the only thing that I really
care for.
What if I care about
cake? Would you not
care about cake?
Would you not care
ABOUT CAKE?
You care about cake, of course you do.
I can see it in your eyes and by
that tell tale dribble at your mouth.
Cake is something that will
make your legs quake with
butter cream goodness.
A good cake baked,
makes you proud to be
a cake baking citizen in
a country that will let you
bake cake.
So what if I care about
democracy. Would you not
care about democracy?
Would you let people live
in fear of the **** of a gun,
Would you care that there
are those who are on the run
from tyranny and violence
who know pain and loss,
that you could only
wake up from,
in a cold sweat?
As you turn and toss
in your memory foam bed.
There is more happening on this Earth
Then cake.
There are greater causes
than choosing between
Thortons Double Chocolate Celebration
and that traditional Victoria Sponge your
Mother-in-law won in a raffle last week.
The struggle humanity faces, is to live
in harmony with each other.
It cannot be resolved with cake.
You cannot bring democracy
to a country with cake.
Or can we?
What if we swapped,
Non radar detectable aircraft
For dairy delectable foodcraft,
What if we swapped
12inch shells for
12 thousand babybels?
What if we stole
RPGs and gave back
MSG’s (they’re less harmful
in the long run, if thrown at you).
What if, for once, everyone cared.
And then we’d get somewhere.
Every voice in every home
Would not be a voice alone,
And for once, we’d all agree about the fact
we like cake and democracy for all.
Mar 16, 2010
Mar 16, 2010 at 8:19 AM UTC
Erebus disaster - November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is Vanda Station.
We have clear weather with no cloud and little wind.
If you want to fly over the dry valleys we will flash you with our signal mirrors so you can pinpoint the station.
Vanda Station, this is NZ niner zero one
Roger, we are now just north of Cape Hallett and will call you again for directions.
November Zulu Niner zero one Vanda Station.
Roger It’s a right hand turn just after Beaufort Island.
For the next few hours
There was no word
worst feared not heard
The radio crackled through the night
In the un natural sound of SSB
All crew up drinking coffee and tea
with the midnight sun
Glued to the HF single sideband
November zulu niner zero one
November zulu niner zero one
This is
mac centre mac centre
howcopy
November zulu niner zero one
This is
vanda station vanda station
five four zero zero
Relay relay mac centre mac centre
Please contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen
Relay relay mac centre
Contact mac centre eight niner niner sefen howcopy
All through the night
Over and over
Hour after hour
The same message
Until that fateful call
Feared by all
Mac centre mac centre
This is
navy three two one
wreckage sighting wreckage sighting howcopy
mac centre
navy three one niner
Longitude
One six sefen
Two sefen echo
Latitude
Sefen six
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre mac centre
This is
Navy three two one
Correction Correction
I say again latitude
I say again Latitude
Sefen sefen
Two six sierra
howcopy
Mac centre
Navy three two one
Ahh ahh mac centre There appear to be no survivors
Howcopy
So it was then,
That the on board data longitude error some would blame for the crash
Is something that happens often but is accommodated by good airmanship
by not relying on one thing alone.
was repeated in similar fate
by a latitude error
in the crash site location message
from the search aircraft XD01-48321
that found a terrible sight
that the sun stayed up on late
on a truly awful night
when 257 souls met their fate.
©GARY LEWIS.2009
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
Another Version
Hartley Forde
You can’t see the wind,
But that old mango tree,
Outside my window,
tell me it’s there..
.
I never travel with a raincoat,
Even though I hate getting wet,
Then here comes the aches and pain
And I started to wonder,
was it because I got a little insane..
I thought that I could
Have run faster than it pours
I haven’t heard of
any aircraft that outrun a jet plane yet,
But, not so anymore,
I never leave my coat and cane,
When I am on a stool,
Oh dear, what has happened to me?
Am I aging? I am not young anymore,
Nor grey, nor old: for age is just a number,
But when the toil of the day
Merges with the aches and pain
With sighing sounds I start to wonder:
I still dance the night away, with my social tunes,
And waltz across the floor to all-time favorite of Strauss
See how I step back in time with the reggae beat,
Lighter than a feather on my feet,
Smiling, with my pearly teeth from ear to ear:
Life just isn’t fear: because age is just a number
That’s when the rubs and oil granny left me:
Come alive again in the neck of time,
to soothe the pain of my aching joints
I smile once again and said
“Oh dear, what do they say again,
Age is just a number and life begins at forty,
Because, I am just starting to be naughty:
Downhill !
written by:
Hartley Forde
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
It been a while now I'm back,
playing the beat on a track,
Lyrically I attack,
I'm an M C,
So naturally,
That's how I react,
You might not get my psych,
goin ape shyte crazy,
chasin these monkeys of my back,
I guess opposites still attract.
Rapidly rapping raps,
spitting facts,
I'm what these other cats lack,
cut from another cloth,
Can't cut'em no slack,
This rifts, rat,
I'm way better than that
I master my craft
Like captain kirk taking a bath
higher than an aircraft
Plotting my path
like a hovercraft
Fully prepared for the crash.
These other guys, think they fly,
I just laugh. They get puff up,
While I pass by, getting
Roughed up, crossing my path
Iooking like ironman with this mic in my hand,
Feels like I'm hold a staff.
Like a titan, I clash.
I am the better man,
check my clasp,
I got a better plan,
Better lyrical grasp,
I'm so smooth,
These other rappers, rap sound like ***
I land minds, no gymnastic class
my geographic quadgraphics better than a veteran
with a can of V8 in his hand
Still crazy from the war,
tasted the blood of a warrior,
Now I'm thirsty for more.
I'm dropping bombs like the army core in 94
With more confidence than Al b sure on tour
Finding common sense scattered all over the floor
Picking up feed back on channel 4
Turning the microphones up,
Then slam it to the floor,
Cause I don't want to rap anymore,
Back and forth I go,
It's all a part of the flow,
I'm just putting on a show,
rhythm book, pinned up,
It's a wrap, flow after flow,
Pulling up, getting my spins up,
The treble and bass doing chin ups,
While I'm spitting rhythms galore,
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
BACKGROUND.
I was working at an international airport as a aircraft cleaner, this ment we went on to the planes to clean them before they went on there next flight.
I was the supervisor of a team of 6 that night, so it was my job to go to the aircraft and talk with the number one, (the number one is the head hostess), she told us when we could board the aircraft.
At the door I could see a young girl and a lady, sitting in the front row, I asked the number one if we could board, she told me they are waiting for a wheel chair for the young girl.
The wheel chair did not turn up until after this story.
This is what happened next.
I will pick the story up after my question to the number one.
THE SHORT STORY, OF A TRUE EVENT IN MY LIFE.
I am standing on the aircraft by the young girl and the number one, when I heard the girl say.
MOM! can I see the controls of the plane.
I am not sure if the number one heard this, so I related to her.
She told me she would ask the captain, and left to do so.
I was alone with the girl and the lady, so I spoke to the lady.
Hi i said, where have you come from?
The lady answered, we have been to disney land.
Wow or something like that I said, that must have been fun, the young girl spoke up.
it was, I saw lot of things, Micky Mouse.
I asked the girl her name.
Samantha she said.
At that the number one came back.
And told us, as soon as the wheel chair is here, the captain say you can look at the flight deck.
The young girl said, can I not go now?
I needed to get my cleaning team on the aircraft!
So I said to the number one.
I will carry her to the flight deck if that is ok.
It was agreed.
So I picked up young Samantha, and carried her forward to the flight deck. number one and Lady behind me.
The number one past me, to ask the captain, if this was ok, and it was.
As we entered the captain said, hi my name is John. the young girl said hi my is Samantha, welcome sammy, said the captain.
The co pilot stood up, to give Samantha his seat.
The captain and Sammy talk about the instruments.
The captain still had his head phones around his neck, What are those?
Sammy asked.
That is my contact with the flight controllers he said, can I have a go? Sammy said.
The captain put on his head phone and asked the control tower, and she did have a go.
Then the wheel chair turned up, and the captain was told by the number one.
You must go now Sammy, thank you John she said, I picked her up from the co-pilots seat, thanked the captain, and the co-pilot on the way out, also the number one, and took the girl down the plane, Sammy then asked me.
What is your name?
Paul I said, she then said this to me.
Thank you Paul I will remember that the rest of my life, at this the lady burst into tears, I placed Sammy in the wheel chair and walked with them to the exit.
I asked the lady, why do you cry, she told me that Sammy was dyeing of cancer and he flight was for a cure and a trip to disneyland, but the cure, did not work, and Sammy might be dead within the year.
I cried for about an hour!
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 7:37 AM UTC
He fly above the same airport
Waiting for a chance to land on the runway
The runway of her heart
Nobody knows how long he waited but the Lord
That airport have only one parking spot and one runway
And occupied by one aircraft
It's hopeless
To wait for that parked aircraft to take off and gone forever
He began to feel desperate
All his patience, all of his waiting, gave him a mental break
He opens his sectional
Pull out his plotter
Change his heading bug in his heading indicator
He finally said, with a smile
“It’s time to divert”
Waste of fuel and time
Waste of credits and dimes
Too long he was holding
Now it’s time for leaving
He will never know
How does the runway and the taxi light glows
After sunset and before sunrise
He will never feel
The satisfaction for using the service
24 hours everyday and night
He will never see
The runway decorated by green grass, flowers and trees
The beauty of the airport’s sight
But it’s for the best
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 3:30 AM UTC
It hath yet to clear away
from the skies of the bereaved
hearts: of family and friends,
neighbours and colleagues, church
members and associates--the
sudden pall of smoke of sorrow
that arose a week agone, precisely
on the Lord's Day last--from the
debris of deaths of the Dana plane
accident in Lagos, Nigeria.
When that evil bruit first
on the radio i heard, like lead
sank fast to the very base of
the sea of woe, my heart; and
wailing was i within like a child
that's bereft of breast milk. I
could not my tongue find again, for
words were as sand heavy in my
mouth. All earthly pleasures did de-
part my thoughts at once, losing
all known appetites for ecstasy
For the 153 souls that perished
in the ill-fated plane crash, when
upon a two-story building with its
belly fell; killing 6 more people
besides the number aboard the aircraft
who, like everyone else on that Sunday, were
having a nice day in their various homes.
of whose tale amongst the unfortunate
victims should i tell thee: Is it
of the bright, warm and lovely lady
that came from the US to celebrate
her brother's wedding with her children
and died along with her family whole--
husband, two kids, and a set of
twins, mother, and two cousins? Or is
it of those who had gone to visit their
friends but met their death untimely
in that damaged building? Or is it
of the air hostess that was to get
married next July? Or is it of the very
reverend Cole and his darling wife?
Or is it of the brass hats, professor,
corps member and top civil servants? I can
not exhaust the tragedy's list! It's too
great a tale to be told by me--the
sad loss of precious lives like mine!
And for 3 days in grief hung the country's
flag in a half-flown position, lowering
its high head in ashes of sympathy
as the nation at large did mourn
the dead and condoled with their families.
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 1:16 PM UTC
In Battalion,
Misery is served in a thousand ways.
Misery is served in buckets of rain
and hours of wind.
Unyielding, soul-sucking cold and wet.
Porous jungle boots that invite the frigid water in and soften your feet for a relentless 30 mile march.
Misery is served in a stifling aircraft flying Nap of the Earth.
A nauseating rollercoaster ride that never fails to elicit
chain reaction vomiting from the paratroopers rigged to jump.
Misery is served at pool PT
When your arms and legs feel like lead
and drowning is a better alternative
than the aquatic torture that you’re enduring.
Misery is served during blistering Company runs
led by the Commander
who was a college decathlete.
Runs where the strongest of us
pulled aside, emptied our stomachs,
and rejoined the formation.
Misery is served by no warning alerts
separating families and lovers
for indefinite periods,
sometimes forever.
Misery is served by the Spec 4 Mafia
Unleashing Hell on new Rangers
testing their threshold for ****
Misery is served by road marches, prickly heat,
Black Palm, and sawgrass. It’s served by desert heat,
Arctic cold, and the stench of the world’s worst places.
Misery is served by the loss of brothers in war and training,
gone too soon to join the Great Ranger in the Sky.
Through it all, misery hardened my body and strengthened my soul.
It made me a warrior and ushered me into a Brotherhood that will be with me until we all sit at the great table in Valhalla.
So on this Veteran’s Day
Embrace the ****
Endure the pain
Invite the Misery
For that’s what makes us
Men amongst Men
Rangers Lead The Way.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
Rumors
They fly
Sometimes it seems they fly
Faster then any aircraft
Found in conspiracy or in the accepted reality
Just the sight of a man entertaining a baby
Makes him a good father
Seeing a woman with a child giggling to no end
Makes her a good mother
When all they were trying to do is take care of a young one
Rumors
Be they good or be they cruel
Write the history of the small minds that let them be truth
Slowly they could become a weapon from Brahma
or an ancient legend
Rumors
They do not need a body
For they possess the foolish minds that believe
Only those that find its mistakes
Cause by the afflicted who tricked its tale
See the true lights of what is said
Rumors
Let them inside
And they will possess you
Altering the truth to fit their existance
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 12:10 AM UTC
Aircraft blazin' fuel
Aboon, "done-with's" grave floods sight,
A calm midnight rain,
The mind racing. Why
Must the nurtured be blind eye
Wilie McTell? Pain.
The mind racing, on
A smile,
Lonesome star in opaque
Darkness, Freedom
From label. Freedom
From responsibility.
Freedom from action,
Is this noble,
Or a jester's play in chess?
Oh, must I turn my fist to face aloft,
Straighten my clenched fingers, present you
Burning embers of admiration, that for so long
Have been stitched into my palm,
Gifted from a passive voyager afar,
Weary, to announce affection,
For a grasp can only
Last as long as
Two hands want to clasp.
What is on your mind?
Aircraft blazin' fuel
Aboon, "done-with's" grave floods sight,
A calm midnight rain.
A chance to breathe.
Be my Sheppard.
Lead
Me to pastures of serenity
To graze in, until my eternal slumber.
That's where I want to be.
Sep 20, 2023
Sep 20, 2023 at 12:22 AM UTC
You pull on my lip like an aircraft emergency oxygen system.
Our engines catch fire
as our tongues flutter like the wing's peeling metal,
and as our eyes peek at one another
between each plane crash of lips.
We've lost cabin pressure
as we can no longer control our bodies.
We gasp for each other's breath
as our shimmering structures
roll around on the sky of my bed.
We kiss like we've only got seconds left,
when in reality,
these moments will never die
even if we do.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
whenever
I meet
women on
Lifts
shopping
waiting
restaurants
bus
train
aircraft
my eyes are bucket to
collect their staring
and pour into my memory
but soon forgot
on the birth of next day
it carry's on and on..
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 10:29 PM UTC
Your words are precision Bombs from slow junkers,
Exploding between my ears. there are no bunkers.
My response tumbles out stuttering like anti aircraft nests.
They hit smoke at best.
The alarms in my brain go off suppressed by tears discharged
Heart, Trust, Ego, Friends over the years the shards.......
Your armaments know where to hit and cause most damage,
The sarcasm of your arsenic love language.
Plumes of fiery emotion flare up, soon loves smoldering cracks .
I dodge your heat seeking adjectives, they encircle in packs.
Cold nights afloat clinging to this yellow deflated ego. falters
Awaiting hope in pirated waters.
Our love is war
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 3:07 PM UTC
The ogre that I am, I sit in my man-cave.
It’s bathed in light from my TV and laptop.
Each is a portal to our ugly world.
Regulated crystal-city skyscrapers
Form Giant’s Causeways.
Aircraft eagle overhead
Reminding me of vultures
And 9\11.
Cars beetling about the suburbs,
Some Beetles, Ha Ha.
River highways cascading cars.
Ants rush everywhere,
A seething nest.
So many an ant,
Holding a conch to the ear,
Or staring mesmerised at that tiny screen.
Yoda fingers his phone…
And me I sit here,
Metamorphosing metaphors
For a while
Before I visit Facebook Land
Once again.
Paul Butters
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 5:40 AM UTC
The Hawker Hurricane is a British fighter design from the 1930s. Some 14,000 Hurricane and Sea Hurricane fighters and fighter-bombers were built by the end of 1944。 August 1940 brought what has become the Hurricane's shining moment in history: The Battle of Britain. RAF Hurricanes accounted for more enemy aircraft kills than all other defenses combined, including all aircraft and ground defenses. Later in the war, the Hurricane served admirably in North Africa, Burma, Malta, and nearly every other theater in which the RAF participated. The Hurricane underwent many modifications during its life, resulting in many major variants, including the Mk IA, with interchangeable wings housing eight 7.7mm (0.303in) guns;the Mk IIC, with a Merlin ** engine; the Mk IID, a tankbuster with two 40mm anti-tank guns plus two 7.7mm guns. During the war, Hurricanes were sold to Egypt, Finland, India, the Irish， Persia, Turkey and the USSR Air Corps.More in http://www.rangorango.com/124-series-c-1_5.html
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:08 AM UTC
Was it your beauty
That distracts me?
Was it your body
That makes my focus blurry?
Was it your smile
That sets my heart on fire?
Was it your eyes
That makes me can’t see because it’s too bright?
Was it the way your singing
That makes me can’t hear the radio coming?
Was it your brain
That caused my heart to beats faster like bullet train?
Or maybe your just overwhelming
That inspired my dreams and caused me overthinking
Whatever the reason is
You made me crashed my aircraft
Really **** hard
That nearly caused a fatal injury
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 2:34 AM UTC
We laugh.
We have too.
When automotive executives speak about the electric cars running the future.
Why?
You say.
Okay, for a better word ask?
Many of us aware this will only work completely if they eliminate gasoline.
Yes, if our government legislature passes a law stating it.
We saw how they dictate high definition rules with television to the states.
The electric car reminds us of the fools behind driverless cars.
That alone is a hipster joke to various people.
A mind must operate the various options of the automotive.
When to stop?
When to move?
We know mistakes have occurred presently with this method
What's next?
Driverless planes with no pilot aboard.
Calling all mountains, look out!
Calling all skyscrapers, be aware!
Even other aircraft just flying in the air.
So, here we are?
Listening to others pushing the electric car.
Eventually, you have to charge it.
****
How long with that be?
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 7:37 PM UTC
Lining up batteries of anti-aircraft anti-everything
all anti- something this and that
distribution centre for psychological pressure
backed by radio, TV presidents staring straight
newspapers, journals and dialogues around
flash round tables on the whys how’s and who’s
sneaky microphone hidden in flower pots,
long distance listening devices. Telephones tapped
wives tapped, senior diplomats and doormats tapped
wives tapped on shoulders
whispered to: watch out for Joe blogs he has a roving eye.
see me tonight, after dinner.
The russians have warship A into Zone B
the chinese have shifted anti-missile up
the mountains near tibet, near nepal
near taiwan, near the hormuz straits
into africa, zimbabwe, fiji, and northern china
who cares. Tomorrow they will shift out again.
the pressure is building in the ukraine, turkey is on fire
The north koreans have no power
as seen from satelllites
The president has run of tomato sauce so he has asked
for a shipload from us of a
ship it with some spies dressed as tomatoes
god its killing me
these acupuncture points
three more needles please!
Author Notes
Relentless. ( an wacky I s'pose). Think about it all.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
The Mujahideen fight for their way of life
They simply want to practice their religion
Follow their religion
And live in peace
The Soviets have no right to invade
And tell them how to live
Rocket propelled grenades
Were effectivey used at the Kandahar pass
Soviet tanks were sitting ducks
They met their end
Guerilla fighters
Walk and fight in the mountains
They mastered the ambush
The Battle of Arghandab
The Soviets attacked
An entrenched Mujahideen
The Afghan government forces often defected to the resistance
Some Soviet aircraft
Were shot down by Stinger missles
Provided by the U.S.
The Russian people were lied to
About what their military was doing there
They were told they were nation building
The war caused around one million civilian deaths
And the emigration of 5 to 10 million Afghans
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Around a big glass table reflecting chandeliers
suits, oxford knotted ties, long tongues gathered
to move an anti-aircraft division across the western border
straddling two different opinions.
at dusk under the silk of darkness
the satellites zoomed in on the convoy
of green dressed camouflaged trucks,
Slinking down the back roads
under infra-red eyes six hundred kms
across the mountains
to take up new positions.
At dawn the satellites spoke to each other
and defied opinions made at the round table.
The longest tongue now hanging out
in sheer delight at operation well done, like steak!
Without discussion the satellites ordered the trucks
back to where they came from!
When the war began the anti-aircraft guns
were ready and waiting for the enemy
in the wrong location.
A flock of geese migrating from Canada to Kazakhstan
were met with missiles attracted by the metal tags
researchers had strapped around their ankles.
As the feathers settled into the waiting valley
two satellites in outer space
laughed at each others games
And switched off.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
"My first attempt in aerobatics"
The trainee pilot, a petite girl softly replies.
As the single engine trainer aircraft attempts a daring loop,
my perplexed eyes see ground below races upwards!
No time now for anything, but to enjoy the fruit of karma.
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
She cries with the force of the stampede
That killed Mufasa, and I forget the
Viking blood that runs through us.
Weakness on display is a sign of strength.
She is the strongest person I know;
Does almost everything without
Me. Barely cries about it afterwards,
When hindsight lets her see what she's
Been through.
Wake up, little heart; your nightmare is
Over. Fall back asleep in arms that
Care.
Listen: It's not raining anymore.
She calls out to me like air raid sirens
Over a city dark with enemy aircraft
Wings.
But all is quiet now.
Nothing harder than drops of
Water ever fell.
Sleep. Sun upon cloudless skies will
See you smile, drowzy; unalone.
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 6:05 PM UTC
I watch the world from a mari-go-round twirling in circles twiddling my thumbs
Falling from the piercing thunders in the sky full of lust and deception
Silence was the enemy
My ADHD can't deny the boredom of the same old routine hindering my existence
Am I worthless?
The shallow waters awaken my dream of rainforests and other pleasant things
And reality is in the forecast with partly cloudy skies
If only it were night forever than I could be most anything
My imagination takes me further then any aircraft ever could
So I dare the challenge of the never-ending; if forever could bare the soul
I would be proof of history when I do conquer the world
Defeat is not an option
If superman existed, he would win and so can I and so can you
I do know dreams come true
There are Oscars and gold medals and soldiers overcoming death
There are angels and saints saving us from ourselves
There are wars and heroes and bad guys as well
The devil does exist but God sees them as angels who fell
I believe there is glory and freedom and peace
It mustn't just be in my head full of dreams
I will show you there is evidence if the good in the world
When your vulnerable and naive there is more than meets the eye
There are things out there you are meant to triumph if you put your best foot first
And the circles in your creating will align and amount to you, in the perfect sense of harmony in a cold and grey and cynical universe
There is yellow, there is blue there is gold but we are red
But the colors you attract to are not affirmation
You are priceless, immeasurable and incomparable even so
A savage in the heat of battle, simmering to boil
You're a warrior with the rest of them, with a stunning biography
You are destined to create glory sublime in the phenomenon of impulse and heart
Constructing immaculate stories to fill the pages of a book
We are gifts from above,
This can't all be in my head
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC