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LD Goodwin May 2013
Here, on the flatlands
I was put in my place.
formed and pressed
into their neat and presumably safe little box.
It's all they knew.
It is so hard to think of them as once children themselves,
formed and pressed.
Formed from a different time, with different conformists.
There are no manuals when we are born,
you get leftover instructions from previous pipe fitters.
Agrarian raised, like grain fed beef.
Complete with the fears and habits of bygone generations.
I leave one bite of each item on my plate,
with just enough drink to wash it all down.
I have done that as long as I can remember.
I want the whole candy bar, rather than just a bite.
Pressed and formed my Father saves.
He saves twist ties from bread bags.
He saves old welcome mats, and garage door openers.
He buys in bulk, and has two deep freezers full.
Full of freezer burn, tasteless, barely nutritious,
neatly formed and pressed portions of frozen in time Salisbury steak.
It is as if he himself would like to be frozen in time.
He is a depressionite child.
In the basement there is an old dresser that he found at a yard sale.
He painted it a hideous green,
but it has a formed and pressed neat white little doily on top.
In the top drawer there are various expired drugstore items,
some dating as far back as 35 years ago.
"You never know when you might need something in there."
Expired aspirin that has broken down into powder and smells of vinegar.
Vicks Vaporub, in the pretty blue glass jar, that is dried up and orderless.
All brand new and have never been opened.
Formed and pressed neatly in their little containers.
I watch these molders of my life slowly pass away,
becoming neatly formed and packed into their aging corner of the world,
neatly formed and packed into a stereotypical old folks home.
Forgotten, in the way, slow, aching.
Soon all they will have will be memories.
Soon all they will need will be memories.
Neatly formed and packed in their aging minds.
And then, like a comet that has shuttled through space
for thousands of years, millions of years,
they will burn out and fade into dust.
And their whole lives
will be neatly formed and packed
away,
in a trunk
in the attic,
to be opened like a time capsule,
at a later date.

*the result of a week with my 94 yr old Parents
Miamisburg, OH   May 2013
B J Clement Jun 2014
We were all anxious about the takeoff. With one faulty engine and a short rough runway, we neded all the airspeed we could muster to get airborne. We hung on and braced ourselves as we roared down the runway. The bouncing suddenly stopped. We were airborn! we seemed to skim the wave tops for ages before we started a slow climb to our normal cruising altitude. This was another boring featureless flight, over the sea towards Darwin. I don't know what I was expecting, but whatever it was, I was dissapointed. Darwin was a mosquito ridden dump at  that time. We ate slept and took off after refuelling. Still with a faulty engine. The other aircraft did not come with us, this time we were alone and heading for a well known town in the outback. Alice springs. Now we were flying over some great country, it seemed so crisp and clean- even if most of it was desert. We landed at alice springs to refuel, and then took off with full tanks, heading for the Australian Air Force base near Adelaide, I think it was at Edinburgh Fields. Gordon was sleeping, or trying to, I was sitting by the window gazing at the countryside below. I began to see what looked like a vapour trail coming from the wing, there was one similar coming from the wing opposite too, it was very slight, was I seeing things, perhaps it was moisture in the air, I sat and watched for half an hour, it was more noticeable now, and it seemed to be coming from the fuel tank filler pipes. I thought it was worth a mention, and I went to the cockpit where the pilot and radio operator were talking to the fitters. The Pilot was thumping the gauges on a panel. I told them what I saw. Christ! the pilot and the fitters looked worried very worried.
He patted me on the shoulder, "Well done, we thought the fuel gauges must be faulty. He turned the aircraft around and headed back to Alice springs for another refuelling. The tanks were filled again, the filler caps were ******* down tight, and we took off again!  Twenty minutes later we were back for more fuel and the filler caps were checked and rechecked and finally ******* down as tight as possible. We took of again, and landed again, took on more fuel,and  tightened the filler caps. "It's too late to continue with the flight now, we'll stay in town tonight and try again in the morning. "That was easier said than done, we had no money and no credit, we managed to get a room at the pilots expense , but there was no food but a packet of biscuits.
I lay on the bed beside four others and wondered what tomorrow would bring.
Rob Sandman Jun 2017
Trip Sitter Poem by Rob Sandman

We’ve all got a friend like this of course,
Istabraq, Seabiscuit the ould warhorse,
Snortin like a whale inhaling at the surface,
Smokes til just lookin’ at them makes your lungs hurt its-
Amazing grace while you’re off your face messed up,
They’re in the corner laughin' - not a hair mussed up,
Not out of place in the place to be,
The opposite in fact a life saver to see,
Always at your back with a friendly shoulder,
A spliff, skins smokes-well timed glass of water


Not immune or a ******- just seasoned,
When you’re lost-beyond all reason,
Lost the end of your sentence?-they’ve got it,
a well tuned part in the heart of the party chaotic,
The calm center of the whirlpool, Deadpool-
Quick with a line, not too cuttin’ but nobodies fool,
trip sitter, designated brain at the sesh,
A little OCD maybe, but  nonetheless,

We’re all thankful with a full tankful
Its gas havin' a laugh knowin' you can bank full-
Confidence in your mates if you trip,

But no mercy with the quips,  quick! zip your lips
If you’re not in full control of the tongue,
They’ll be followin’ the slips and zip down your lungs
You’re a wounded gazelle on the plains and they’ll lunge,
Like a cheetah once you’ve taken the plunge


I’m not talkin of only one person of course,
We all take turns as the tour de force-
goes round
Like a Merry go round sound friends abound
While you’re bewildered the wildebeest takes the crown,
Don’t know about you, but I’m blessed with a few true-
Trip sitters babysitters life fitters diametrically opposed to bullshitters


*Sideplitters with one liners that leave you gaspin’
For air beyond compare got the grasp and flavor
Best savour the moments-they’re all too few ,
Best friends are saviours  who help you pull through,
So lets all give thanks to the big hitters,
Thanks lads and lasses I’m always grateful for me trip sitters!
This is a poem for my Mates, we all have each others backs,
we've all been the "Calm at the Center of the Storm" for one another,
I hope you're all blessed in the same way,
Watch this Space for an E.C. Podcast featuring Music, Laughs, and (more than) Occasional over the top Language and abuse!
B J Clement Jun 2014
Gordon and I waited outside, while the Australian soldiers were carried onto one of the transports. They were all stretcher cases, men who had been shot or blown up by Malayan terrorists I think. When every one was taken on board, Gordon and I were told to board the other Dakota type aircraft, along with a large chest of spare parts, and two air frame fitters. Both aircraft were identical and equally sparse and noisy, described as flying pigs by the pilot of our aircraft, who was a Flight Searjeant. There were two nursing sisters on the other aircraft, looking after the injured men,  our aircraft was almost empty by comparison. We took off with the engines roar filling our ears, and turned towards Ceylon, now renamed Sri Lanka. I prefer the former name personally. That part of the flight went ok, although there was no sight of land until we touched down in Colombo.
Colombo was quite beautiful and I can't recall where we were billeted but I do recall that there were rows of wooden bungalow's set amidst cocoanut palms. There were lot's of nuts on the ground, still in their husks, but we could not break them open without some kind of tool. We were also warned to keep clear of falling nuts, which could be lethal to anyone below.  The following morning we left Ceylon and headed out across The Java Sea, looking for a small island which if memory serves was called Koepeng.  That's when things started to get a little hairy!!
B J Clement Jun 2014
We reached the island in the late afternoon, it was no bigger than a cricket pitch to my eyes.  The runway was a sick joke. There was none!  There was a strip of land that was clear of jungle, (the runway) started in the sea, and finished in the sea, and was full of big potholes. It had been a Japanese airfield in the second world war, now it was covered in cows, goats and children.
We flew very low over the island twice to warn them of our intention to land.
We were very low on fuel and needed to land as soon as possible. "Here we go," the pilot grinned *hit or bust! we  almost landed in the sea, and bounced down the runway, we were less than fifty yards from the surf when we turned and trundled over to the refuelling station. I watched in trepidation as the second aircraft attempted to land, bounced twenty feet in the air and took off again, skimming the sea. It managed to land at the second attempt, bounced several times, and turned with it's tail wheel almost in the sea.  I turned to say something to Gordon and saw the pilot and aircrew looking up at the starboard engine and wing of our aircraft, which appeared to have gone green. "Looks like the reduction gears have packed in."  That was the opinion of the air frame fitters. "Can you fix it?" That was the pilot.
"Yes, but not here." the fitter said shaking his head, "It's stuck in coarse pitch so you'll need to take it easy." The pilot laughed. "If it's stuck in coarse pitch we will have to be flat out to get her off the ground!"
A little old man dressed in a loincloth, ragged shirt, and sandals manned the fuel pump and began to pump fuel into the fuel tanks located in each wing.
When that was done, about three hours later, the pilot  had him douse the wing and engine cover that was covered in the green grease, and we did our best to clean it up. As soon as the other aircraft was refuelled, we took off again. "Next stop Darwin, fingers crossed." He laughed. I could only admire his happy go lucky attitude and determination, I think he would have got us safely to our destination, even if we lost a wing!
B J Clement Jun 2014
We enjoyed two days of rest and good food and discussed between ourselves all the possible reasons why we had been shipped out to OZ, instead of The Second Tactical Air Force in Germany! Neither of us had a clue, and try as we might we could get no explanation from any source.
Towards the evening of the second day, we received instructions to wait by the admin office at nine thirty the following morning, with our belongings. "What next," Gordon asked. I could only shrug my  shoulders,
"After what we have been through, anything is possible." An orderly was waiting for us,  to check our twelve fifties. "Come with me  please."
He escorted us out to where our aircraft was waiting, Our Pilot and the two fitters were busy loading equipment on board. "Climb aboard guys, we won't be long!"  "Can you tell us where wer'e going?"  He grinned, "Yes, of course, but not just yet, let's get airborne first, shall we."
He changed the subject abruptly. "You will be glad to know that our friends have fixed the problem with the reduction gears, and have replaced the seals on the fuel tanks, fingers crossed, we should be ok."
We were ok, the aircraft lifted off and we gained altitude quickly.  The pilot drew our attention to something below. "Do you see that road? "
We could see a black ribbon stretching away in front of us. "We follow that for about six hundred miles, that's the end of the line for you!"
I looked at Gordon, our eyes met, he nodded. "But what are we doing there?" The pilot's grin widened grin widened. "You will join the rest of your friends on Task Force Antler, you will be testing Atomic weapons, and good luck to you."
B J Clement Jun 2014
The Australian desert can be very cold at night. It was the cold that woke us early in the morning. We were all eager to be off, and we soon found ourselves drumming along the metalled road leading to the airstrip, in an ex military four by four open topped vehicle. By the time we got there we were all frozen, and waiting for the Sun to warm us up. The pilot asked us if we would donate a shirt, the fitters were doubtful whether they had been able to stop the leakage, they intended to stuff rags into the filler pipes  to see if that would help. The pilot had second thoughts, and decided to try without, he thought there might be a danger of blocking the fuel lines, so we took off again to **** it and see,(an old tried and trusted technique in The Royal Air Force, aparrently.)Twenty minutes later, we were back on the tarmack once more ,stuffing the remains of my shirt into the fuel filler pipes. This did not cure the problem, but it did alleviate it to a degree.  The Pilot calculated that instead of being able to do twelve hundred mile (hops). we could manage three hundred miles. and there were small airstrips with refuelling facilities within range. "We should be ok, fingers crossed." I liked his confidence, and sat watching the wings slowly leaking our fuel into a thin vapour trail, as we flew along over the outback desert land. We landed several times I think, by then I was so tired that my brain craved sleep. The only stop I can remember was a cattle station at Leigh Creek, it was the last stop before Edinborogh Fields,near Adelaide. I wondered "And then what?" No one was able to tell us why we were in OZ!!
akshat kaushal Apr 2020
We all fall for someone at some point in our life
No matter how much hatred we have for love, but we hitch on the vibe
A vibe that makes us do every wrong to feel alright
A vibe that pulls your string to see that face miles away at night

The air begins to feel lighter than it should
Mind began to run faster than it could
Every thought revolves around that human from showers to ice creams
From daydreaming on a busy day to playing rom com in your dreams

You begin to care about them, so much that you forget about yourself
Your routine aligns to theirs, your books are found into there shelf
From scrolling pictures clicked together to paying attention to every bit
From playing the music of her playlist to ordering food of her fav list

As time paces by, that someone turns into someone who completes your everyday life
From morning messages to goodnight calls, that one human is responsible for all the hype
From behaving like an extraordinary babysitter to a human w whom you share your fitters
From someone who used to be on search list to someone who fills your wall of twitter

Fundamental of caring binds the two souls in an unspoken way
Where commitments are unsaid but heart knows to plot Shakespeare play  
In this process of caring for someone, you begin to care for yourself
as your life is no more yours, that someone’s is dependent on yours as well
                                                            ­                       by Akshat Kaushal
Glide effortlessly through the dream-world on the Surfboard of
Vengeance because it's **** or be killed. **** your family and
their friends, neighbors and the friends of neighbors. ****
lesbians and ex-lesbians. **** truck drivers & pastry
chefs, lawn mower dealers & their customers,
perfume salesmen & bra-fitters, lock-jaw
patients & their nurses. And then, when
you're up to your chin in blood and
bowel, say a prayer to the ******
Mother and move to
another country.

— The End —