"beaufort" 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
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
The copious shambles of rocks
waylaid the roadside,
by the time we saw the Beaufort castle walls
it was easy to see it as a mirror
of its surroundings,
a cannonade of angry words
miscued with shots of Peace.
This belated excursion
was like an erstwhile trumpet
for phosphorus clouds
and driven rain shrapnel
had attempted to ebonize the landscape,
our luggage with best intent was smoking
by the derelict Vichy bolt hole.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 9:21 AM UTC
i am not a girl but a storm,
crackling and rumbling and shaking the ground with my strides.
measure me,
not by my beauty
but by my rage.
richter, beaufort; i am not contained by these numbers.
i am more than what they make of me.
i am not a girl;
i am a storm.
and a storm raises winds like hellfire and blazes through the urban sprawl and is infinite, omniscient, omnipotent.
i am infinite, omniscient, omnipotent.
fear me.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Je lis et cite tour à tour
Ce recueil qui jamais ne lasse,
Ces vers écrits par une Grâce
Avec les plumes de l'Amour.
De vos amis, moi qui vous aime,
Je n'ai ni l'esprit ni les yeux :
Je ne vois en vous que vous-même,
Et vous m'en plaisez beaucoup mieux.
Brillante de votre lumière,
Belle de vos propres attraits,
Vous ne me retracez jamais
Ni La Suze ni Deshoulière.
La voix de leurs admirateurs
Déjà vous place à côté d'elles ;
Vous aurez des imitateurs,
Mais vous n'eûtes pas de modèles.
Écrit en 1795.
646
Her scarf's trying to catch the bus, but goody two shoes don't lose her chance, she runs to catch up, and the lady with the burqa that looks like it's trying to get to work before her catches up too.
The wind should be blue, it feels like blue on my skin when it gets in underneath my vest.
I think that the wind is some sort of a test to sort the weak from the strong as it blows me along.
I'm strong, but the longer the wind blows the more I get weak, I try to play hide and seek,
it finds me, I'm like a wind magnet and caught in its dragnet I bowl down the street.
The colour of wind should be blue and when I saw blue I'd stay indoors, comfy and warm
close to you.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 5:29 AM UTC
To Where Tyrolean aurochs
graze in cools of lapis prairie
, I have come,
In A Balthazar of star- led zeal,
my scarlet hunter flown from
urban zodiacs of anxious ports,
of ailing townships steaming in
their millioned yellow orders,
shackled
sick beneath the mountain's boot.
Through dim grimmiores
of softwood press
I sleeve,
In sympathies of woad to glean
the narrative of under_ storey,
bourne to earn my Eagle .
I chance to know the trip of wind
kissed, sinuous on beaufort scales
balanced on a fingers edge to
turn October
into wine.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
Calm, smoke rises vertically
Smoke drift indicates wind direction, still wind vanes
Wind felt on face, leaves rustle, vanes begin to move
Leaves and small twigs constantly moving, light flags extended
Dust, leaves, and loose paper lifted, small tree branches move
Small trees in leaf begin to sway
Larger tree branches moving, whistling in wires
Whole trees moving, resistance felt walking against wind
Twigs breaking off trees, generally impedes progress
Slight structural damage occurs, slate blows off roofs
Seldom experienced on land, trees broken or uprooted,
"Considerable structural damage"
Devastation Occurs
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
I was there, I saw it, Beaufort, North Caroline
A hamlet of sorts, ocean hugged, just sublime,
There’s a house near the water, on its front a sign seared
“Beware all who enter. This was the home of Blackbeard.”
Born 1680, England’s Bristol, Teach or Tack by name,
Fictitious personas, it’s the pirate’s game.
He sailed for the Caribbean as a ****** of the time;
From home port of Jamaica, fighting Annie’s war before turning crime.
Two captains by his side, they plundered merchant ships,
Cargo seized, often vessels, on their pirating trips.
A man with a thick beard, braided black in pigtails;
The ominous harbinger; full wind in his sails.
No captives were harmed, yet many vessels met their graves;
His ferocious reputation could be viewed with some praise.
In 1718, now a commodore, at the height of power,
He blocked the port of Charles Town, no guard ships, no search tower.
For a week; nine vessels stripped, the Crowley’s plutocrats were held,
Passengers questioned, then locked below, then an exchange, unparalleled.
The lives of men for medication, and maybe some trinkets on the sly,
They set sail for home port, run aground, problems intensify.
Once home, Blackbeard was offered a Royal Pardon from the British court
And that’s why the seared sign is on a home in Beaufort.
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC