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We’d all been out to the Carnival,
Had chilled and thrilled and cried,
And Patsy laughed that she’d wet her pants
On the killer Monster Ride,
While Orville’s face was covered in floss
In a pink and sticky goo,
And I limped past the Penny a Toss
With something stuck to my shoe.

I’d won a horrible Voodoo Doll
That I tried to pass to Kate,
She said, ‘No fear, if I took that home
I would just lie there, awake!’
We’d had our fun on the Octopus
Though the Mouse had made me sick,
And the Big Wheel stopped in a passing cloud
At the height of a laughing fit..

A spider deep in the Ghost Train came
Unstuck in Patsy’s hair,
And Kate had shrieked, for Patsy had
No clue that it was there.
We threw it one to the other, first
To Orville, then to Jack,
But then it landed on some old dear
And gave her a heart attack!

We laughed and pranced and we danced beside
The sideshows – ‘Way to go!’
But Orville fumbled the rifle and
He shot some guy in the toe,
We had to run but were laughing there
So hard, and fit to bust,
That Richard ruptured himself out there,
And now he’s wearing a truss!

The time it had come to wander home
So we wiped off Orville’s goo,
But I had trouble in walking with
That thing, still stuck to my shoe.
I slid and wiped and I scraped at it
But nothing would make it budge,
Said Jack, ‘Just what do you think it is?’
I replied, ‘some sort of sludge.’

We got to the edge of the fairground
And the others wandered home,
But I was stuck, I couldn’t move,
I was standing there, alone.
And then my foot had begun to turn
Back to the lights and sound,
I felt myself, being impelled
By my shoe across the ground.

I tried to twist and I tried to turn
But my shoe was saying, ‘No!’
I had to follow wherever it went,
Wherever it wanted to go.
It took me back through the alleyways
Still lit with a thousand globes,
I felt a bit like a Brahman Bull
With a steel ring through my nose.

It dragged my foot through the mud and slush
And the other followed too,
I didn’t have much of a choice, I thought
As long as I wore the shoe,
It led me in to a darkened tent
With a dais, up on high,
Where a shadow sat in an old top hat
With a single gleaming eye.

The shadow opened its mouth to speak
And its teeth were long and sharp,
‘What have you brought me now to eat,
Some dross you found in the park?’
The voice was deep, was a muffled growl
And it shook the earthen floor,
The shoe was dragging me forward as
I turned for the flap of a door.

I felt a wrench and the shoe came off
So I hopped and ran like mad,
The growl of the shadow had freaked me out,
It had to be more than bad!
My father gave me a hiding when
He found that I’d lost my shoe,
He wouldn’t listen when I exclaimed:
‘You would have lost it, too!’

Next day the shoe was sat at my door
Its prints deep pressed in the lawn,
I couldn’t have put that shoe back on
If the Devil had blown his horn.
I took a stick and I picked it up
And dropped it straight in the bin,
I couldn’t go near a Carnival now,
I’m too attached to my skin!

David Lewis Paget
I've been focused on the end
For a while
My child, we'll just separate the energies
Inside, disperse them to the corners of all time
Our crimes are taking place in the vicinity

My sins, equal to the evil
I let in
You sir, have resigned yourself to apathy
Beware, the symbols on the idol in the chair
Suggest that we are sleeping with the enemy

We've been focused on the end
For a while
It's time to celebrate the miracles
We survived, a wonderful experiment of the mind
Enjoying the infinite theater of the Omniverse

Tune in

Realize the shape that we're all in
Mutate to neutralize the symphony
Our waves, those of the true and the brave
Modulate themselves into reality
Randy Johnson Sep 2017
People use your popcorn in popcorn poppers.
You were the one and only Orville Redenbacher.
Sadly, you died twenty-two years ago today.
Your popcorn is still being eaten and it's here to stay.
People were sad when you died in 1995.
You're deceased but your legacy survives.
Dedicated to Orville Redenbacher (1907-1995) who died on September 19, 1995.
Black and Blue Aug 2013
there was a girl who dreamed of flying; over mountains and oceans and forests and beaches. She searched and sought ways to soar into the horizon. She tried to construct wings of wax and feathers, like Icarus. She tried to fashion contraptions similar to Orville and Wilbur’s. She tried to mix potions and find fairy dust and jump off high buildings with large sheets tied to her wrists.

She had almost given up hope,

                 until one day she met a boy. With startling brown eyes that shocked her into living. With rough, but soft, hands that cradled her porcelain fingers. With careful lips that whispered what she didn’t know needed to hear.



And after waiting so long,
        the boy had finally filled her with such sunlight, and warm oxygen, and such life that her feet lifted off of the ground. Her toes curled and her fingers splayed in the wind, and she grabbed his hand to show him the insides of clouds.
Dave Bas Nov 2010
A man and his brother set on a task
An undertaking attempted many times by others
To no avail nothing and no one could succeed
But their vision was to them possible
It seemed that this feat was not meant to be
The world told them to quit
If God wanted it to be he would have giving you the tools
Yet they were undeterred in this goal
They toiled and worked
They  slaved and sweated
Failed many times in their task
But together they crawled toward their aim
One day they finally did it
They climbed aboard their creation
And started a new era in the modern world
Finally these brothers did the impossible
Their names were Wilbur and orville wright

Stubbornness is perhaps the greatest gift God has given man
Those who have it are mocked and berated by their clan
Undeterred they continue toward their mission
Never swayed by words blinded by their ambition
When the dust settles everyone sees
The answer to success is this disease
More things have been done
By unrelenting men seeking the long run
Stubbornness may in fact be wrong
Alas anyone can see this burden is carried only by the strong
david badgerow Nov 2011
I had a dream last night
You were a bird
and I was flight
You were a plane
and I was Orville and Wilbur Wright

I had a dream last night
I was a helicopter
and you were the hot soft sand
I was taking heavy enemy fire
And I came crashing down to hold your hand.

I had a dream last night
You were a grenade
and I was my legs
Now I am a torso
confined to a wheelchair
You blew me to pieces and didn't seem to care.
Craig Harrison Oct 2014
I get told
I've been told
it's time to stop living a fantasy
it's time to grow up
it's time to give up on my hopes and dreams.

As a child I was told it was cute
as teenager I was told to go for it
but as an adult I was told to give up.

Hopes and dreams make us who we are
they create change
Martin Luther King
Orville and Wilbur Wright
Christopher Columbus
Neil Armstrong
these people, people like these
never gave up
they kept their hopes and dreams
Not my best work but the message is clear, never ever give up on your hopes and dreams.
Dawson Jones Oct 2014
People be craving
Organic
Perfect for movie night
Could I have so more please
Orville
Ripe for the picking
Not enough need more
“I had a plan for you, my dear;” her whisper ruthlessly pounded at Matvei's overwhelmed senses. His entire environment shifted and trailed off; his vision useless, a muddy smokescreen of shapes and colors bleeding into and breathing out of one another.

“A glorious plan, indeed,” she continued, her whisper becoming the hiss of a rattle snake, then slowly shifting pitch, going through every mode, until it was in perfect tune with the deep resounding purr of a well pleased kitten. Which, as fate would have it, was exactly the creature that had taken a seat in front of Matvei's double. The double, still suspended in mid-air, continued wrestling with his chains and screaming madly at the swirling pool of blood at his feet; the vision of the dogs violence still dominating his feeble mind.

Being so occupied, Matvei's double took no notice of the small black kitten as it lapped at the blood between its long and bassy purrs.

“You're without that precious body of yours these days, Sweet Matvei!” The woman explained.

“Or, maybe you've yet to notice that as well? You thick headed pig!”

Stolovsky's vision returned; he was back inside his body. He was the double.

“How's that, dear? Better?” the blood stained kitten at the edge of the swirling pool purred sweetly.

Stolovsky didn't respond and turned his gaze upward. He saw her for the first time; she was beautiful, ungodly so.

“Clean your head up, you animal! How dare you think of me that way!” she laughed.

Her voice returned to what one would expect from such a beautiful creature; the sweet vibrations of a woman, flirtatious and soothing to the ear of any man.

“I'm flattered, really, but we hardly know each other. At least, you hardly know me. Though, sometimes it is best that way, I admit!” she mused, finishing the thought.

“But, on to business then, shall we?”

“I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?” the words escaped Stolovsky's lips as though they were not set free by choice, but of necessity, by reflex alone.

“No. By the looks of it, you really don't, do you?” the spirit retorted.

“Who are you!?” Stolovsky screamed, unsure if he wanted an answer.

“I wouldn't raise my voice to her if I were you, dearie.” purred the kitten, as if it were attempting to instigate some sort of violent reaction from the spirit.

Those kittens, one must always be wary of a blood stained kitten! It is a thing to avoid, afterlife or otherwise. Be that as it may, the kitten's attempt at being the provocateur seemed to have quite the opposite effect.

“My name is not important.” she sang, her voice continuing to astound Matvei's senses, the sweetest evil you'd ever want to hear.

“You can call me Jehovah if you'd like!” she laughed as she spoke.

“Right now, you are my child, my sovereign property. I can do with you whatever I wish!” she paused for a moment, to allow Stolovsky the opportunity to recognize the gravity of the situation.

He did not.

She continued on, her voice shifting again,

“And let me tell you, boy, you've been a great disappointment! Did you know that?”

The rumbling of her tone, the changes in her pitch, were beginning to drive Matvei mad; he'd never heard anything like it! It was absolutely nauseating.

He attempted to gather himself; this was all so confusing. After all, wasn't he dead? Should he fear this, this, whatever it was? He controlled his anxiety enough to ask,

“What are you?”

“She's your new master, Matvei! And a wonderful master, indeed. You are very fortunate!” chirped the blood stained kitten.

“I believe he was asking me, X. Away with you, you ***** kitten!” Immediately, X vanished into thin air. Stolovsky stared downward, mesmerized, as his double was, by the pool of blood swirling beneath him.

“Am I dead?” he asked the goddess.

“You don't even know what that means, you idiot! Besides, you'll be worse off than whatever you think you are now if you keep asking silly questions. Now shut up and listen to me!” she replied.

“There is someone I'd like you to meet.”

As she said this, it appeared to Stolovsky as though the layer of existence that he had, until this very moment, believed himself to be in full occupation of, swelled outward at an amazing speed. It was as if he'd become as tiny as a quark and yet, he continued to become tinier still. He could see nothing recognizable; the sheer brilliance of giant photons zapping through space was enough to blind him. Even as he noticed this, they became infinitely larger, like suns themselves.

Stolovsky felt as though he were falling through it all, becoming smaller and smaller; or, was everything else growing larger and larger? He struggled to reposition his body. The intense pressure of the experience was becoming unbearable.

He could feel his rib cage sinking, his heart struggling, his lungs collapsing as he desperately clung to whatever consciousness this was that he was currently experiencing. X, the blood stained kitten, appeared to him just as she had been moments before.

“It feels strange doesn't it?” she asked.

“What is happening to me?” Stolovsky replied, struggling with the words.

“You're dying the Second Death. Don't worry, it'll only take a minute.”

Before the kitten could finish the sentence, Stolovsky's eyeballs popped, hurling frozen droplets of organic material in all directions.

The frozen droplets would continue to fly on for many years, some straight through into eternity. A few would be so fortunate as to crash into other, much larger, groups of particles and give rise to some very interesting lifeforms. Who, as fate would have it, would go on to destroy one another, along with one-third of their known universe, trillions of smaller universes, and something that may amount to a shoelace being vaporized in my level of existence, in a great war a few hundred billion years later. But alas, a story for another time.

“Oh, wow. That was much quicker than expected, Old Boy!” purred the kitten, pleased at this unforeseen turn of events. "Dr. Orville will be so pleased to learn of our improvement! I must tell the Master straight away!"

And once again, that silly blood stained kitten disappeared. Things were about to get very interesting for Mr. Stolovsky. The Third Life awaits.
The first part is buried in my poems somwhere...
The
trailblazers
hellraisers want to learn to fly, but first must learn to try and not begrudge the birds their wings or beaks or things.
It's each to his own and birds have flown for centuries
while man looked on quite jealously,
until
Wilbur and Orville an unlikely looking pair, built a weird looking craft that flew into the air
and there the story lies.
Man
no longer separated from the skies but flying catatonic,supersonic,chronically intoxicated by machines that he's created.

It will all come to pass that when we run out of kerosene and natural gas,
we'll recognise that flying free is but a dream and then we'll see that wings are meant for birds
and no amount of whirlygigs,tornadoes,migs can change the fact
that we were made to walk.
Zik Malleaux Jun 2014
Butter me up
Roll me over
Red rover red rover
let Orville come over.

Pop it up
Fill the cup
Handfuls down
Popcorn crown.
Popcorn is awesome.
JAM Apr 2023
gudarna avgudar oss.

"Eight Geats and twenty-two Norwegians
on an exploration journey from Vinland to the west.
We had camp by two skerries
one day's journey north from this stone.

[We] have ten men by the sea to look after our ships,
fourteen days' travel from this island.  
We were [out] to fish one day.
After we came home [we] found ten men red of blood and dead.“

“save [us] from evil."

A record of the delightful piece
They're going to play this evening

Ladies and gentlemen
Your attention please
And now, the moment we've been waiting for is here
I- I have something to tell you

Que sera, sera
Whatever will be
(Remember) Will be

The birth was like a fat black tongue
Dripping tar and dung and dye
Slowly into my shivering eyes

I might walk upright
But then again
I might still try to die

Never prayed, never paid any attention
Never felt any inflection
Never a lot of thought to life

"Che gelida manina,
se la lasci riscaldar.
Cercar che giova?

Al buio non si trova."

And yet From listening to records
i just knew what to do
I mainly taught myself
And, you know, i did pretty well
Except there were a few mistakes
But um, that i made, uh
That i've just recently cleared up
And i'd like to just continue to be able to express myself
As best as i can with this instrument
And i feel like i have a lot of work to do
Still, i'm a student - of the voice
And i'm also a teacher of the voice too

I believe in the future
I don't believe in miracles

Can it be true?!
It must be true, no doubt!

Life is going on as normally as ever
But suddenly something seems to have happened
Everybody seems to be staring in one direction
People seem to be frightened, even terrified

Some nights it just gets worse than others
Some nights, it just
Gets worse
I feel terrible
But what can we do?
I don't know
It's just, a feeling I've got
Like, something's about to happen
But I don't know what

I want everybody to understand this

"I don't understand"
echoes
"I don't understand"

There're a lot of things we don't understand either

Where do we come from, who are we
And where are we going
Eternal questions never answered

"We need answers from you
What- What did you expect to find?
What is going to be our future?
It- It's your responsibility to do something about it!"

Well, I, uh...
I have the key in my hand
All I have to find is the lock
Now listen to me, all of you!

I fly to the strangest lands

And i would like to able to continue
To let what is inside of me
Which is, which comes from all the music that i hear
I would like for that to come out
And it's like, it's not really me that's coming
The music's coming through me

The music's coming through me

It caught me so that I may never
rest from pwondarement;
I will drink life from the bees.
All tore-ments I have enjoy'd greatly,
have suffer'd greatly,
both with throwse that loved me,
and alone; on tear,
and when thro' thudding rents the cravy Haeades
Vent-teh-din-see. I am become a thought;
For all-ways growming with a hungry deadhead
Much have I heard and throwned—
poprieities of Brads and Janets
And spanners,
prime-hates, clowncils, reed-covernments,
Myself too.
threast, i am tonor'd of them all,--
And drunk delight of rattle with my tyears,
Far on the stinging pains of dramatic irony.
I am a partition of all that I have kept;
Yet all expeerientse is an ark
wherethro' gleams that unpondere'd mind whose margin craves
metaforever
and 'fore ever
when
eyes
groove

To see the wizard!

Wake up, the roughest
In the name of, birds fly
(the light, march)
Reach the wizard
Follow, follow, follow
-by league, birds fly

They move on tracks of never-ending light
Like neon beams
stardust

I see it when I look up at the night sky and I know
that yes we are part of this universe
we are in this universe but perhaps
more importantly than both of those things
is that the universe
is in us

And since we cannot escape mother nature
We attempt to placate it
Modern civilization stems from the simple act
Of placing seeds and plants into the ground
When the plants are ready for harvest
We invest so much time and energy in tending our plants
We must stay around to enjoy the fruits of our labor

we can hear her voice whimper,
as wind through leaves,
while we speak:

Cara bella, cara mia bella!
Mia bambina, o Chell!
Ché la stimo...
Ché la stimo.

O cara mia, addio!
La mia bambina cara,
Perché non passi lontana?
Sì, lontana da natura,
Cara, cara mia bambina?
Ah, mia bella!
Ah, mia cara!
Ah, mia cara!
Ah, mia bambina!
O cara, cara mia...

Mia cara!
Ah, mia cara!
Ah, mia bambina!
O cara, cara mia...

Orville and Wilbur
Cold cut the anchor's from their ankle
Carving propellers from whale fins
In the back of a bicycle shop...
And thus begins the tale
Of the thumb trigger cloud ****
At last the Wright's reinvented the horse with wings
Another invention only fit for a mannequin

And One by one the angels fell
Ode had sent a horrible plague of deaths
Why do you think that Ode would do a thing like that?

Well, You put a veil up when you
Took all your things underground
You covered your own footprints
So no one saw you hide
You heard Ode treading in the
Shadows of the sycamore
You turned to Ode and you said
"I will learn nothing from you"

And so it was that Memories burn
On the black and white horizon
Of your knowledge of
What was never said
you've had enough of the road
That was laid along beside you
Like a lover meant
For another bed
And so you left in the morning
And all that's left behind you
Are the fading frames
That you've got instead

And I tried to keep my distance as
Ode changed The Face again
Ode fakes direction so
I don't see where Ode could go
And in the panic I saw that
They had dropped a “note to self”
I picked it up and it read
"I can't learn anything new"

When you've had too much
And the weight of the expected
Has got you feeling introspective
Can I give you the perspective that you need?

Remember that language is power.

"I will, I will. I'll remember that"

Thank you, I'll say goodbye soon
Though its the end of the word
Don't blame yourself now
And if its true
I will surround you and give life to a word
That's our own

Order of the day to come
Thus the end, the ends
Darkest hour, obsidian
Cast of stone, the Night
With a slight of who not harmed
Hit or touched
What will be, the end
How come the rising sun
Matches still
In to gold, it holds
Comes the dawn, golden dawn
Darkness turn to day

I'll take you to the place where you
Come down and just react
To what you're about to see

Early time machine's
Will have tended to leave you
Left screaming
On a dinosaur's dish
In da Vinci's "Bike Accident'
An outerspace whodunit?
Monkeys play Magellan
As the next ex-Edison
Standing out in the crowd with a unicycle

Physics of a unicycle...
Twice the remarkable
Um, did a little little, um, did a lot
Someone's splitting atoms under flag barbed wire
Up in the sky where the war planes fly
Dead in the clouds, hear the God's cold lie
Um, did a little little, um, did a lot

You've had enough
Too much
And all you have collected
Is heavy with the taste
Of ambition misdirected
Bitter 'bout the pace that you keep

Well Good Ode almighty, all that other *******
Is here today and going tomorrow

'Tis better to have loved and lost,
than never to have loved at all!
Come cheer up, my lad

'el Da'
Qb'a'
Oh-kie
YIjah, Qey' 'oH
YIjah, Qey' 'oH

And When I have plucked the rose above
Whatever will be,
will be below
GaryFairy Sep 2021
peep this...you can't see the forest or the trees because of material in the way, and when you hold up a mirror, you see perfection...i never liked mirrors, because i want to see something new...yes i was born and raised in ohio

up up in ohio
two brothers got together
to talk about some wings
to talk about the weather

thanks for the wind lord
we have to spread the word
eagles can't even speak
we need wings like a bird

on orville's death bed
his wishes were his plan
please use this bird for good
and let the pilot only be a man

moral of this story is that the female was trying to prove something and landed near cannibals, who only thought of living and not proving
the wright brothers doing for fellow man...women aren't evil, but will be used as a vessel until they accept their role...to be whole...i know it's offensive to women, but it's logical to religion and science alike. My favorite writer ever is Mary Shelley, and one of my favorite poets and singers is Chrissy Hinde. Women aren't less than men, so when they don't feel a need to prove it, things will change. Just trying to think of a whole, and what it takes, Because that will make me whole. Love.

look at their names
the wRIGHT brothers
amelia AIRheart

drones controlled by women refer to documentary "america's bird"

sinister

maybe someone else invented flight...maybe god maybe nasa
sorry about the title, but i figure if it offends people not to look, then it's just not for them to read
I could have learnt how to fly,
should have, but
ti was hard enough to live and
watching time go by
took  
all my time.

I should have done it
look at me now shuffling my feet.

And I never got to meet Wilbur
or Orville,
they flew and they flew because
they knew that time
was the enemy and time stuck
it to me.

If I'd known what it was
to have flown, to be
wind brushed like a kite,
I might
be happier.

At sea pressure, the pressure
gets to me,
up there
I'd be free.
a massive entertainer with a bird that couldnt fly.

now he has his wings high up in the sky

everybody loved him with his puppet show

and his friend called orville that gave us all a glow.



all the children loved him he always made them smile

with his little duck with his special style

we will not forget him and we never will

the perfect entertainer that gave us such a thrill
Larry Ladd Jun 2017
Wilbur and Orville Wright,
Two men for a one man flight.
This fact should not be overlooked
Man's first flight was overbooked .
Eyes on the landing
eyes on the hall
eyes from the dark side
my eye's on the ball.

Rats on the sinker
the ship's clinker built
deep in the mire
downed in the silt.

I flew with Wilbur
Orville stayed behind
Kitty Hawk didn't talk, she sang,
and someone rang the president.

We built the future on wooden spars
aeroplanes and racing cars

no one said it was wrong.
Yup, you red correctly,
     this noggin must go
     perhaps donated
     to the Salvation Army, or Good Will
cuz, said atrophied cranial
     horridly styled comfortably numb skull,
     the source of immeasurable

     beg hot ten woe, from dawn to dusk
     nothing boot eve ville
hollow cavity mainly comprised
     of wooly webbed weaving waste,
     uber sawdust, sans Schuylkill
     River effluvium and runoff rotten rill
hence, e'en a think tank

     designated as Abby Normal
     formerly atop a body named Phil
lip, or Wright winged Orville
one half brotherly duo,

     the other sibling Wilbur,
     whom both made a mill
yen legends getting airborne their lil
mechanical contraption

     atop Kitty Hawk,
     North Carolina with bi sic ****
mechanical aptitude,
     when born aloft **** Devil Hill

synonymous making fin hushed
     blue prints emulating
     flying fish, whose grill
like cartilage backbone

     precursor to Evil
Knievel, who soared
     on his motorcycle a devil
lush daring stuntman,

     whose helmeted crown
     full pursestrings muted cavil
ling critics with legitimate enterprise
     earning gobs of legal tender,

     whence aye aver
     his mugshot ought to appear
     on common denomination bill
and/or honoring throughout
     the entire month of April.
James Floss Aug 2017
Number two gets knocked around
Snockered and knockered by
Plans backfired.

But Orville knows deep in his heart
(that is red red red as his nose)
That number two is still good, too.

One, golden, pure as driven snow cones
Head high held in the ozones
Knows not what just misfired.

Number three, trickster, conspired:
Pitting one against two.
What transpires inspired is clown!

— The End —