"dogfight" poems
paper air planes made out
of tiny pieces of a torn up heart
they are red
but they have these streaks of black in them
it is a terrible blackness like rotting
thats unhappiness
it is poison
paper airplanes
tiny paper airplanes
he folds them quick and quiet at the stone wall
end of the driveway
at the bus stop where little old ladies dither away
long summer afternoons
tiny paper airplanes dogfight in the air
watch one go down in flames
made of the ripped up pieces of a broken heart
they are red
like fire trucks for the burning desire for her soft flesh
like alarm bells to warn off the unwary
they are red
tiny paper airplanes
one slips free
sees a cloud high up there where no paper airplane has dared
so far up in the wide open sky
none have ever even dreamed such a thing
he slips free and climbs
faster and higher
he climbs
free
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
I had to run to the store today at lunchtime
we were out of paper plates
we had a party last night
and didn't want to have to do dishes again
While there and while moving quite quickly
although in the shape I am in, "quickly" is being very kind to myself
I came across a man
In a blue blazer
with yellow shorts and
knee-high yellow socks
in beige shoes
My first thought was
I need to get paper plates
my father-in-law is waiting for his lunch
he's eighty nine and flew over the Pacific
during WWII in a PBY Catalina
one of the most beautiful flying boats ever created
pulling pilots out of the water
who had come up short in a dogfight
or of fuel
I needed to get paper plates
This isn't Bermuda old chap
or a cricket match in Rhoorkee
the british invented great campaign chairs there
this is Connecticut but then
I realized that I knew the man
I had worked with him in a previous life
in a long dead company
that burst before the internet bubble did
He was a former British Sergeant Major
and as such took his colonial British very seriously
that attitude fascinates me
his office I recalled, looked like a colonial governor's office in India
So I said hi
and we talked for a bit
and wished each other well
and said good bye
as I needed to get paper plates
my father-in-law was waiting for his lunch
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
i miss the dogfight
of our teeth squaring off
in a shiny mirror.
you could call our canines
moon kernels or portents,
but the sentiment
is sharper. the poem
tautology to a bracelet
of crescent dents.
self-portrait: light
shadow, shadow, light.
a plane reflecting
other planes, an edge
biting an edge, biting
an edge, bitten.
the bracelet tautology
to a skyline sans sky,
one wedge of evening
held in your periphery.
i press my fingers
into a warm glass throat.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
two barks don't make a bite
but
it takes two dogs
to make a dogfight
Feb 14, 2023
Feb 14, 2023 at 9:27 PM UTC
i used to lay on the snowed-in flowerbeds
of nan's backyard. once it snowed enough,
you couldn't tell that a ****** of perrenials
slept peacefully there: all crushed
and crooked beneath
dirt and ice.
some days she'd come and join me
if the ground was soft enough:
we'd stargaze up into the cosmos
of pine trees overhead and listen
for the stillness of winter - the hush
of silence that lingered in the air.
ivy and henbit writhed
gingerly underfoot:
a quiet dogfight
of frozen earth
that begged a
sluggish spring
to come out of
hiding.
Mar 14, 2022
Mar 14, 2022 at 9:47 PM UTC
we went out to the desert
my young daughter and I
looking for the pilots
crash site shot down in a dogfight
over this strange landscape
we found the memorial
to their sadly shortened lives
and my daughter who had
collected shells from the beach
to take home
placed them as offerings
tears welled in my eyes
and I thanked them for their
sacrifice and this precious
moment in my life
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 1:07 PM UTC
Sipping cider on the Saturday porch
while the bubbles and dust moats dogfight among the leaves.
Paradise,
with a breeze.
Catching zees while the sounds of traffic and children,
water gun arsenals at the ready,
**** up and down the street;
the sing song sounds of birds as the flit to meet
on the cables and branches high above.
Paradise,
the only way to ease
into the languid living
of a hot weekend.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
I was out, looking all night
In a time that it felt right
Could have stayed in and slept tight
Couldn't go on with it, this life
Now I know in the twilight
Gorgeous blondes, Yeah, they looked tight
But, their plans had me fist fight
That idea in a dogfight
Stoli made with fruits and berries
Gave me thoughts of that girl, Liz Cherry
So close to connect, burr
Got the chills, then just left
Waiting to find someone young, like you
Finding the wait for young, someone like you
Can't buy the bait no more; Don't need a clue
Waiting to find her young, someone like you
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
Convergence
Two lines drawn
Non-linear episodes flowing
jet streams of ink
What matters in this dogfight
Matter vs. anti-matter
Longitude and latitude
There is us
Page upon page we desire sequence
A door forced shut
Shutters blow open
Life arrives unleashed
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
We have ourselves a dogfight, in
Elysium.
Where the daylight shoots rays like lazers against the darkness.
Until all is covered in light.
The snow is tears, the winter goes cold, and freezes over.
The mirror reflects endless eyes shone.
It is the infinite overture, that humanity imitates.
It is like your bodies the wooden bars, and your minds the inmates…
https://cascadialegends.wordpress.com/category/poems/
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
standing in a full moonlight
understanding life a crashlanding
multiplied
even if we were supermen we
walking on kryptonite every breath
is a fight
a path lit by candlelight
demanding we ranting while
withstanding a stamping till you hit bottom
a spanking
superman doesn't die start standing time to stand in
for the things I stand for not for standing
when I impact I'm a meteorite
for my kids, I'll get crucified
while singing them
a lullaby, against life I can't lay down and die
I'm a dog with fight to life I'm a dogfight
They keep missing my understanding leading to misunderstandings all I am is standing outside
calling to be outstanding
running this rat race
while straddling my kid's hands praying they don't let go and watch me fall
from grace my failure realized
Would I be surprised, these thought suicide
denied I'm Brutus when I pop eyes
while my syllables break decibels amplified
a gun in a knife fight there is only one side
my past I rewrite midnight when its dark outside
silence my solace while I reach for the finish line
while my sound byte outright in your head resides
Nov 8, 2023
Nov 8, 2023 at 1:06 PM UTC
I’m here, now, if you want to put a bug in your dad’s ear about pouring coffee. in the war the thing I felt crawling up his spine became his spine. in the war I called it abandoned and he said not while we’re in it. he scratched the worst looking dog into the side of it so we’d know it was a church. I shared more than once how I’d be stupid as that dog to guard a dogfight and less than once how jesus would’ve been a suicide bomber had the crowd been clueless. we cried about women and children and by our crying they were found.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC