911
By Franklin Price
09/11/2026
Nine one one, two thousand one
A quarter century ago
Twin towers struck down to the ground
The Pentagon also
A third airliner on the way
To add more to the pain
Crashed In a Pennsylvania field
By the heroes on the plane
Innocent civilians
Too soon were laid to rest
The USA attacked that day
By terrorists, a test
Funded by the very rich
Who hated who we were
Making world opinion worsen
Anywhere it could occur
Now a quarter century later
We’re still responding to that day
We still have not recovered
From the ones who made us pay
We do not work together
Our great country torn asunder
The terrorists worked well that day
To drive us to the present blunder
Each day, each moment
it pulls me to the ground.
Each morning, I look to the sky
but on earth I belong.
each day I ask
Old rock and roll plays
in the next room
a heartbeat
I breathe.
what keeps me here
An airliner streaks the sky
and contrails disappear
into clouds like dreams
but I stand on the floor.
another day in its embrace
*off-sonnet form
If I had wings or another source to fly
I was born to soar
The sky and I
Discover horizons and unknown distances
Never seen before
Surge among the high mountains
Observing below endless oceans, Lakes, Rivers, Water Falls and running streams
Through the Sun that brings warmth
Feeling the friendly breezes
Into the air to countries beyond America
Where language accents dwell
Senses of aroma where smell of enchanted puts one in a trance
Tasting the natural soil of the good Earth
Acquaint with like never before
As I wasn’t born with wings
There is another thing
Wings of a passenger jet
The best idea yet
Journeying far and wide
Where if I had wings won’t tire
Passenger jet recline back
Airliner style
Friendly skies
Opportunity wise
If all goes well
airlines will sell
seats by the pound
the less you weigh
the less you pay
to fly the world around
and yet
if a commercial Russian airliner jet
unfortunately
crashed into the sea
would there be
Aeroflotsam on the ocean
fragmented and floating free?
It's a riddle
inside a mystery
wrapped in an enema
from 1939 Soviet Union history.
An Airliner on its regular schedule
It seems the Airliner was stuck in an anywhere time module
The Airliner would take off in fligh5t in the present, but would go from current into unknown times
The flight would be smooth
The destination was supposed to be from Los Angeles to Chicago
The passengers, Pilot and entire Flight crew themselves going from through historical past
It planned on the Flight chart
Even the passengers had no idea as to what was going on and what was transpiring
Confusion and concern running through everybody’s mind
No explanation could be expelled into why and what was happening on the Airliner
Finding their way to where?
There was no getaway only time traveling entry way
Fuel was getting low
The airliner in flight, but seemed locked in time to anywhere
Stuck in time to nowhere bound
They couldn’t even return back to their time where everything started
Airliner in its own search, but loss in no find.
The continuity of the continuation of the continuous continues continually.
“Carry on” was once a reference to a state of perseverance now it is a small bag brought aboard an airliner containing a “comfort” animal.
Cats are not feral they are deviously ingenious entrepreneurs that take over the company.
Marina, Motherina, Baba, Mum!
Reflect upon what your life has become:
Born in Harbin to refugee Russians,
Tossed out by Mao, with mild repercussions.
Aussie girl, country girl, raised by grandmas,
And grandpa and parents (both pains in her ****).
Small school, to high school with penguin-ed nuns,
Bespeckled and bikeless - childhood is done!
Went off to college at Melbourne Uni,
Made friends, stole a goat and earned a degree.
Entered the workforce for airliner doomed,
Later a teaching position assumed.
Married a beardy fresh in from Hungry
(also a Russian circuitously)...
Moved to the suburbs - East of the border,
Had a few children (not in that order).
Two in-laws out back, who helped with offspring,
Replaced by her mum, who started writing.
Son and two daughters, she raised to adult,
Some better than others - not all her fault.
Each offspring took flight, with their other half.
All but the youngest, who forged her own path.
Some grandkids were born, they grew up a bit,
Throw in some church stuff and that's about it.
Airliner in the storm is not doing well
Pilot is having difficulty keeping it in the air
Tossing and turning, careering with each stormy swell
Stewardess do not tip us off, issuing us all kinds of care
Each one squelching their own internal light for our sake
My eyes are fixated on the dark clouds that appear with a glare
747 gives a quiver, a drop, and at last a shiver and shake.
Sky marshal holds onto the seat until his knuckles are white
There is a loud boom that sounds like an earthquake.
I wonder if we will make it safely or be a plane crash sight.
Others are praying, phones put away, rosary beads on their laps
I swear I see a halo around an old lady’s head and it is bright.
Suddenly there is a clap, no a series of loud angry claps.
In succession, bam, bang, bam, bang, bam, bang, bam.
The plane begins a descent and we all hear familiar flaps.
Thunder envelops us in series of freezing cold wraps
Airliner in the storm is not doing well
Others are praying, phones put away, rosary beads on their laps
Tossing and turning, careering with each stormy swell
Inklings Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Christopher Robin’s thinking of Alice
But she wasn't with him there
Alice was above the Indian Ocean
Ten thousand feet up in the Air,
Working as a Trolley Dolly
First Class Section, Exotic Air Line,
Mixing with the Jet Set and
Finding life suited her just fine.
She’d joined the Mile High Club,
Just to give it a try
Wondering if making love was different
Performed way up in the sky.
So many beautiful people seen daily
In her normal working life,
Maybe the chance of becoming
A very rich man’s wife.
Alice loved her occupation
Of which she was justly proud
Until one day her airliner
Just disappeared into a cloud.
Christopher Robin mourned his Alice
Thought of all those things he didn’t say
Then he sadly closed his heart
And let life take him on its way.
Ezekiel’s Witness
David J Walker
It was the Spring before Eddie died that Fall
The graveled back road leading to the
end of the airport runway and an audible adventure
In the perfect evening air
no wind
as the light defused
into the equinox sky
we parked his Buick on the leeward side of
the barbed wire fence just beyond the runway
and stood in the chilled and perfectly stilled night air
Where
we became four animated fixtures
beckoning to the coming Continental Airliner
watching it grow nearer
bigger
louder
roaring
rattling our bones in the backwash of
a passenger jet landing on time in
the middle of nowhere
Ezekiel bore witness to the wheel in the wheel
Way up in the middle of the sky
Ezekiel bore witness in the valley of bones
Dry but not lifeless
Eddie left a note naming the boys who would
Bear the pall of his casket
It was the fall of our senior year
The News Bizz
Turn on the news what do you watch?
Buy a newspaper what do you read?
Browse an online news site to see what?
Download the local news app it says?
No matter when or where you get your news
No matter the time of day or location
On the toilet or in an airliner or in a bar
The main reason is why it happened
And why you read it
Do you want the latest updates in Asia?
The latest political happenings in Europe?
Military adventures in the Middle East?
All of this news is fake and made up
The ruling elite chose what happens
And the when and the why and make it
This is your news made by them
To keep us all under control
To scare and subjugate us
What can we do except wake up?
And then are we the news?
Nothing but pawns on a board
Both Orville and Wilbur Wright,
Two brothers who pioneered flight.
When at Kitty Hawk, in North Carolina,
They first flew their forerunner, of the modern airliner.
Sponsor Regina McIntosh.
Clerihew poetry contest.
12 / 28 / 2020.
After a hard work day I sit
With beer in hand, sun glasses on
In the sun on my old lawn chair
And listen, watch what goes on
Here in my garden I keep well
With flowers, trees and bushes low
Where birds keep chirping to their mates
To bring home worms to their chicks.
At times I see an airliner
Flying high in a huge blue sky
And wonder where it’s headed to…
How many times it will land.
There on my asphalt parking lot
I count some ants scurry around
And notice spiders’ webs well built
And other things at days end.
I wouldn’t change this for the world
For silver or for precious gold.
Excuse me now, I gotta get…
Two more very ice cold beers.
W.C.Hull © 2020-18-6-WCH01-WCH1-28
W.C.Hull © 2020-12-7-H1479-2589-I53-
K53-2-L61-2
Alba Gal swam down to the plane
It was the plane that brought her here
The remains of her Comet jet
In thousands of pieces at the ocean bottom
How the plane broke up was bad
But how Alba Gal and the others
Lost their lives was even worse
It read like something from a horror film
But was real and brutally ended life
Passengers thrown out of their seats
Necks and rib cages broken
Lungs exploded and heads cracked
Limbs later snapped like twigs
These injuries were seen later
After the bodies were recovered
Along with parts of the plane
It spoke of a tragedy beyond words
Death at 500 miles per hour
At 40,000 feet the worst way to go
Luckily most died in the plane
When it split apart like an egg
Before they hit the sea
Alba Gal died in her own way
While drinking a Gin and Tonic
George was too shy to ask Eve for a date
His frightful trembling just wouldn't abate
So he made a recording
Of an airliner boarding
Warning: "Last call for this Eve ~ Don't be late"
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