The Poetry Marathon

Poem 15 | {Gravity}

By Ajanta Judd All Rights Reserved – 1 pm 28/06 Australian EST

Prompt 15: There are very few poems about air travel, even though there are a lot about driving, train travel, and subway commuting. Your prompt this hour is to write a poem about a plane trip.

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{Gravity}

 

This time gravity went straight to the heart.

Imagine that!

The private passion touched my cortex

which, pre-erupted a skin dive sitting on that plane.

That ecstatic connection, the richness of us

flying over the hinterland all lush and fecund – just like you.

Step by step passion boogied down through the onion skin layers

in the expectation and hesitation I was swept away in fantasy.

You little lion tamer you!

Did you think you could get away with it? Playing catch me if you can?

Lulling me into a false sense of security? Not this time baby!

When I’m on solid ground surrounded by my heartlands

My equilibrium will return. Am I deluding myself?

I need you to know that you won’t get your wicked way.

I’m not straightening up for your coquettishness.

My weakness is a space between who I am and who you want me to be

but you won’t snare me this time!

Yet when I really look, what do I see?

The glistening ocean from the plane window – the deep green meandering rivers flashing by

Is it the illusion of sky reflected in the water

or, the illusion of water appearing in the sky?

A giant mirage with you the disappearing oasis.

We are fooled by these games of hide and seek, lost between reality, reverie and dream.

My thoughts scramble for order as we prepare for landing

I ready myself for my favourite treat – reverse thrust

I could ride the exhilaration of reverse thrust forever

But with you? I’m not so sure.

But you’re so so beguiling in your persistence.

Ultralight Training Flight– Hour 15

Imagine a simple lawn chair

Awning extended overhead off to the sides

Now imagine that this chair is magic and can take you anywhere you want to go

The bare frame lifts and turns

the propeller behind rocks us away from Giggle Hill

Shortly Armand and I are 1000 feet over Ho’okipa

birding above windsurfers

laboring against a steady trade

out over open water banking to a coral head

four hands on the control bar

then he told me over the headset to take it

to do a 360

I did (with some assistance)

The tail wind punched us back over Haiku

toward the pastured airstrip

Buffeted by updrafts rousting the gulch approach

he popped us across and back down

a goose landing on her feet we were

on grass once again*

 

*Even with my fear of heights I felt safe in this craft. The briefing included use of a safety feature–an explosive canister mounted behind the wing out of which two emergency chutes could deploy to provide a gentle-ish drop from the sky for aeronauts and craft..

 

Poem about my creatures that I call Fearful Muffins and this poem is from my character in my story :D

I will call them The Muffins. Glory creatures that are made from the heart of the earth.
NAY You would say. They sound like Hawks and made of ROCKS

Fear the Muffins, blase and cold.
Cold as rocks, sounded like a hawk
Fear the Muffins, I beg you.
Bring your cocoa, and don’t take a photo.
Bobo, the Hobo took once a yo-yo.
And feared the day that he needed to go-go.
Nothing is more feared than the Muffins.
I beg you, fear the Muffins.
The Rubble of the bubbles.
Babble the bobble, couple of bobbles.
Watch out for your muscles and your rumbles.
Wobble the humble and snuggles of the troubled.

It is a struggle to befuddle a Muffin.
Troubles and struggles would be all in jumbles.
Knuckles and muzzles would fly!
Married couples would giggle and be puzzled.
Mess with the Muffins, you surely would ask for trouble.
Humble the Muffins are, the bubbles and rumbles are puzzled.

Nay, you would say.
The Muffins are merely friendly and kindly creatures.
Go ask your teachers, preachers, leaders, and seekers.
Seekers and the common believers.
The Muffins are feared and would stab you with a spear.
I am making myself clear? Or I am going through your ears?
Stear clear of the Muffins.
Be clear, to not be near a Muffin during the year.
Once, you are there, you would disappear and reappear.
You will have a souvenir of your ear in a box. And a photo of a laughing Fox.
Ask your peers and they would hear.
Stay clear of the Muffins throughout the year.

Why a photo of a fox and why does the Muffins sound like hawks?
The Muffins send them in a mail box or send them in a pressing box.
They giggle and gurgle over the person that unlocks the box.
They steal pencil boxes and music boxes.
Cereal boxes and deposit boxes. And sometimes even the telephone box.
I know that is unorthodox and I hoped you like these talks.
Since, the mice and princes are raising.
And the ocean is behaving.
I beg to you stranger, beware the Muffins.
I will say adieu and God bless you, you silly little Baboon.
Please, don’t refute my warnings and accuse me as a fool.
I salute you and have a great honeymoon.

Held High

Never had a backseat memory with you,
No nostalgic leap to american adolescence,
You know I always would, desert star skies we never shared
The only notch left to make is to connect far off,
Darkly splendid catacombs call to the Seine’s banks,
A million dead to take you trans-continent,
Bring you something you never had
Would you let me guide, places I went before?
Could you ever let it be a joy,
Rather say you are doing it for me?
Said you never thought of it,
Despite so many times we spoke.
I know romance doesn’t wear my face
For someone who likes back up security
I must be a lowest last resort.
Held by others during earthquakes,
Would you touch for turbulent hours up high?
A chill in recycled air, stiff seats, lay on me.

Prompt 5: Imagery

I take in a breath, smell and taste the salt in water; my tears mixed in, another saline solution. This view is everything to me right here, right now. I feel not so tattered here than in suburbia, as wild as that sounds.

This is everything to me, the stars are wondering like I am. Where I am supposed to go. I thank them for letting me join them, they thank me because I have always been a part of them…stardust.

Rollercoaster Ride (hour 15, prompt 15)

Staring out the window
At the storm that raged outside
Something told me, then & there
We were in for a fucking ride
35,000 feet in the air
We were flying home
From our honeymoon in Vegas
Straight through a fucking storm

*FLASH!!!*
*BOOOOM!!!*

We were in a freefall
Dropping through the air
Everyone was screaming
Lights flickered everywhere
One woman, loudly praying
All I could do was cry
30,000 feet, now
We were gonna die.

But the pilot had us
Like an angel, he could fly
When we landed safely, later
He said, “thanks for the rollercoaster ride.”
~Mandy Kocsis©2020~

Bed and Bath (Poem 14)

The struggle is real
It’s not easy to focus
When sleep is dragging at your eyes
The intensity it brings
Is not bearable

The desire to succeed
The drive to achieve
Is all you need
To stay grounded
In order to make it to the finish line

Coffee is brewing
A nutritious shake is being blended
All that it takes to stay awake
Is the energy that drives
The body to stay awake
Only a few More hours to go

I hope you know!

All rights reserved copyrighted(c)2020 Roxann A Harvey-Lawrence

By The Wndow

The passengers all look so grand
They all look good this I have found
All different shapes in different colors
All smart-looking from different shores

Then come the ladies all poised and pretty
all smiles, accommodating oh all so friendly
They don’t seem to know I am terrified
My fear of heights I try to hide

There by the window I found my seat
The clouds the sky oh what a treat
I forgot my fear oh how I love
The beauty I see here up above

The plane is stable the people are sweet
The voices are reassuring and so complete
Before I knew it the countdown’s done
The handsome captain announced touchdown

A Travel Elfchen

Prompt 15 : Poem about Plane trip (using the Elfchen format)

Pack

Anticipation thrums

The day arrives

a long taxi ride

Departures

 

Queues

Pass checkpoints

down the aisle

Buckle down, stomach butterflies

Takeoff

 

Airborne

Feeding time

A flying zoo

time for wheels down

Arrivals

 

Patience

Queues again

but waiting outside

unfamiliar air, unfamiliar lands

Adventure

 

 

 

 

Hour 15 (2020)

Take off through the clouds

dipped in honey yellows and flamingo pinks

the aeroplane a white swan diving into a pond of spectral delights

the beauty of human invention on the outside

turmoil on the inside:

spilled drinks, extended seats, crying toddlers.

oh to be the swan and not the passenger!