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Flight 82

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Below is the poem entitled Flight 82 which was written by poet Juanita Thorn. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Flight 82

Roaring engines, wheels on tarmac
Flight 82 is running late
Pilots push the throttle forward
Flight 82 disappears into the black

The nose rises, the speed quickens
G-forces push you through your seat
Inkiness outside the windows thickens
The planes’ destination silently beckons

The plane reverberates with a steady hum
Passengers unclasp their belts
A little girl looks into the eyes of her Mum
As this huge metal object gathers momentum

The pilots are weary, they’re working overtime
Their minds and focus drift
When the birds’ big nose begins to climb
And red lights flash and alarms chime

Something’s wrong. Pilot’s now wide awake
They go into survival mode
But the plane takes on a deadly shake
As they try to figure out their mistake

Panicking passengers silently say their prayers
Praying for God to watch over them
Others confused with frightened stares
Sit motionless in their chairs

Flight attendants jump into action
Trying to calm the passengers down
Giving out emergency instruction
Disguising their fear, showing no reaction

They’ve done this drill, in class, on the ground
But it’s so different miles high in the air
Surrounded by chaos all around
Where crying and screaming is the only sound

The Captain speaks over microphone
Stammering, stuttering, and trying to sound calm
Saying “Get into crash position as shown”.
“Stay that way til more is known”.

One engine’s gone, another is dying
As they radio to the tower
“Mayday, Mayday”, the Captain is crying
As the co-pilot shakes his head, sighing

Heads between legs as the passengers wait
Bewildered and confused
To hear the Captain tell of their fate
Praying hours from now they’ll celebrate

The pilots stick rigidly to their role
But their hopes have quickly faded
Cos they have lost all control
They can’t save anyone, not one soul

As the plane falls from the sky
Minds going ten to the dozen
People on board keep asking, “Why”?
“Why me”? “Why today”? “Why did I fly”?

Pilots in the cockpit, tracing the sign of the cross
As the Earth races up to meet them
Making their peace, with their maker, the boss
Why would God allow this devastating loss?

A deafening silence encompasses the plane
As they come to terms with the inevitable
People writhing in excruciating pain
Suffering in silence, going surely insane

The impact is like a nuclear explosion
Metal disintegrates, body parts strewn
One hundred souls begin their next excursion
A leap of faith, hoping heaven’s no illusion

Flight 82 lies crumbling in its grave
The once intense fire, peetering out
Poor old bird, not a one could it save
It failed in its purpose as a human slave.

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  1. Date: 1/5/2013 8:52:00 PM
    A very sad marker in history.. you are a wonderful poet with true and real poem to write about... keep up the awesomeness... I want to keep following your poetry... if you do not mind! adding you to my favorite poet list... if you do not mind... your poems are worth the feedback.... always~LINDA