Best Cockpit Poems


Saved By Sugarcane

Rain is brewing; 
black clouds hang over the Cockpit Country.
Them rainclouds have a habit of shifting colors like a lizard.
The smell of the pending shower is strong on September’s breath; 
the sun take a well-deserved break.

Mango season is long gone, 
and bellies are tied up in knots.
Naseberries; they accompanied the mangoes.

Them guys from abroad, 
who bought the government land across from the football field, 
slaughtered them faithful guava trees. 
They build condos,
but poor people can’t eat condos. 
How inconsiderate them big-shot government boys are.

We (me, Footloose, and Squealie) device a plan, 
when our bellies start telling us something must be done, 
but we have to wait ‘til darkness falls, 
‘cause bushes have eyes in sunlight.

While everyone sleeps in the bosom of the night,
we put on our birthday suits, 
and scale the barbed wire fence at the back of the house. 
We are now one with the blinding shadows.

We race carelessly across the open pasture; 
burrs biting at our tender flesh, 
and mosquitoes humming maddening music in our ears.

We tip toe on the dry leaves, 
using our hands as shields
to fend off the razor-sharp edges of the cane leaves.
We drop down on all four, bellies on the ground; 
we navigate the rows like them American marines – naked and all.

We ate our full, 
and Squealie wet the bed that night.
Them sugarcane have a way of making us hyper.
Footloose fell from a Poinciana tree and fractured his hand, 
but we stayed energized that fall.

Hidden Mountains

A solo pilot, lost in snow,
in a jagged mountain pass.
His eyes are trained upon each tree,
and the shape of each crevasse…
In an open-cockpit time machine,
the winter wind does howl,
but a mighty fire’s burning bright,
inside the engine cowl.
The fog and flurry blinding him,
he searches for a trail,
running late, and miles behind,
he’s employed to fly the mail.
He looks for clues to lead him back,
like ancient, sunken wagon tracks.
A mumbled cuss, then shouts out loud,
he’s heard that mountains hide in clouds…   
Now’s the time to pay the toll,
for conversations with his soul.
One way in, and one way out,
it’s true that mountains hide in clouds.
 
Copyright © 2013

Premium Member Fireman Competition Dragon

Dragon went to the mailbox this morn, 
And he came excitedly flying back, yes, toward the house… 
So Now, you should… be doubly, doubly, doubly forewarned.
Yep! Now, you GOTTA know… We’re in for a LOT of ensuing chaos!

Yes, He had a letter addressed to him… 
With a smile on his face and a letter in his hand…
And what, you ask, had him wearing, such bubbly, bubbly, bubbly grin?
 He’s going, this year, to the Fireman Competition, and held the invite so grand!

By Now, you must know, such excitement, so fine… 
As usual, made his fire to run, run, run… onto the letter in hand…
And that Date, and the Time? You know, that fire? Well… never mind!
Thought this would slow Dragon? No way! He’s ready, now, for that Laurel Strand.

He flew to the Firehouse, lickety- split…
Crashing into the fire truck, giving it a broken axel and 4 tires flat, flat, flat!
Leaving his head, stuck, solidly, through the window, into the trucks cockpit…
Fortunately, out ran the fire chief, to organize the rescue, of our little dingbat…

When NOTHING ELSE would work, all the firemen…
Put their feet on the door, grabbing Dragon, and they pulled, pulled, pulled!
Finally, it took old Grandpa Troll to pull his head out, by taking the door off…
And then breaking the door apart! My! What a day, I must say, THIS had been!

Then next week’s competition was explained…
As a Charity Event to enhance and outfit their old faithful fire truck!
Now a little rescue practice will never, never, ever… it’s ascertained…
Ever be turned down! And Oh My! And Oh Well! What’s that truck worth? 

That is… compared to our klutzy, little clown…
Grandpa Troll donated repairs as Dragon worked it off, day after day, after day.
My Moral is: If great you will be, then mistakes will be made along the way…
As you walk to your destiny, don’t despair; just keep going to your brighter days…

Written By Carol Eastman 5-19-2016


Premium Member - Into Space -

Drop social realism and political disagreements

                          Build a spaceship with modern technology

                    You will find many functional materials in the kitchen

                                       - a journey into space

                            Where robots serve coffee and chocolate

                            You in the cockpit with your best friend

                                 and with highly skilled employees

                                             - beyond the stars

                           If your experiments were to ends in disaster

                            and your expectations are reduced to zero

                                                  Do not panic

                           Follow the Milky Way and you will find home

                                    - never forget to look at the stars

                            The irrational and the improbable seem true

                             if we are given the opportunity to believe it 







                                                  12/02/2021
                                          Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
                                     Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Premium Member A Rattling Rhyme

St. Elmo's Fire

'Twas a fall eve on our flight to the coast
Dressed in my livery this journey I'd host.
A storm was predicted, we would fly 'round 
With instrument help from cockpit to ground.

No form of the storm yet could be seen
Our 747 flew like a queen.
Suddenly arose the storm we would fight
It was going to be a bumpy night!

As turbulence began rocking our plane
Cans and bottles fell again and again.
I tried to secure my cart on its tie 
Withholding some fear, I won't tell a lie.

Captain announced for us to be seated 
His urgent tone need not be repeated.
The lightning storm caused us to fly higher,
Cockpit windows glowed with St. Elmo's fire.

The contrast between bright white and deep blue
A frightening sight for first time to view.
Passengers gripped the armrests of their chair
Sweet babies held tight by mothers with care.

Passengers viewed on crew faces...no fear
Which put them at ease as coastline grew near.
We landed safe and as we taxied in
Applause was heard with appreciative din!

8-20-18

*Note:
Like lightning, St. Elmo's Fire is plasma, or ionized air that emits a glow. But while lightening is the movement of electricity from a charged cloud to the ground, St. Elmo's Fire is simply sparking, something like a shot of electrons into the air. It's a corona discharge, and it occurs when there is a significant imbalance in electrical charge, causing molecules to tear apart, sometimes resulting in a slight hissing sound.The first step in generating St. Elmo's Fire is a thunderstorm.

Premium Member Ah, Drifting Leisurely - Repost

Ah, drifting leisurely inside the cloud, 
Watching hot sun’s rays glance across the nose 
of the winged drone, stealthily slipping proud, 
I drifted so peacefully through the floes. 

Updrafts from silent streams beneath arose 
lifting craft’s nose, unexpectedly plowed 
through looming cumulus's potential foes, 
Ah, drifting leisurely inside the cloud. 

My teeth clinching, I bared tense lips so proud; 
Sensed gusts of air across the broadened floes, 
Kissed cerulean sky above allowed 
Watching hot sun’s rays glance across the nose. 
 
Fecklessly, thoughts wondered how high she goes 
before narrow cockpit collapsed to shroud, 
and leaps of joy turned into flailing woes 
of the winged drone, stealthily slipping proud. 

For a moment, my breathing burst aloud, 
A sudden chill, fear inside my chest froze 
leaps of joy turned to sad, flailing allowed, 
I drifted so peacefully through the floes.

I shall land on the grassy field unbowed 
Receive the welcomed accolades from those 
who soloed the winds, powerless, uncowed 
by dangers the upper sky chose to pose, 
                                 Ah, drifting leisurely. 


SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written/Edited March 1, 2021, slightly modified May 21, 2022
for Rondeau Redouble - Life's Struggles contest
Sponsored by Constance La France


Cat Cobalt

A cat sat on a buckaroo hat
A hat that was not a hat
but a Flying Fox bat,
A bat like a hat
that was not a bat
but a Spacecraft
from the planet Cobalt…
Can you just picture that?

This story is as simple as that,
A Spacecraft like a bat 
Slick, smooth and flat
with a cockpit and all that
and a cat from the planet cobalt
in an outer space, as far as that…
There’s more to it than that.

While chasing an alien Rogue Rat
in and around the galaxy and all that,
Cat Cobalt in the outer space got lost
in the rat’s extraterrestrial habitat… 
Now, what’s up with that?

Here and there, with this and that
From beyond yonder just like that
Poor Cat Cobalt on our Earth fell flat,
No ceremony and no welcoming mat…
Oh, who would ever want that?

To get back home this resilient cat
with one purpose alone and that’s that
He rebuilds the broken Spacecraft
with the help of one domestic cat
and goes back home to Planet Cobalt
Now no one knows where it’s at…
This ends the tale of the Cobalt cat!



~08/01/18
~"Cat Poems" contest by Tania Kitchin

Premium Member Conflict - Tomboy Or Girl

The bark worn smooth,
a scamper up.
Looking down takes my breath away.
Leveling off, I’m safe in the cockpit.

Flying the Iowa skies, way above the tassels,
Control panel at my fingertips.
Spreading my wings and charging the clouds.
Birds skimming by.

The branch cradling my adventure
is broad,
back firmly against the trunk,
sun over my shoulder.

Apple blossom shadows on my arm.
Between petals and freckles,
bright spot lights of sun
sparkle on my skin.

The petals are so pretty.
I pick a bouquet,
shinny down the tree, and
bring apple blossoms home to my mother.

Where Will You Be?

The flight attendant asked;
"Can anyone fly a plane?"
She received  no reply,
Her search was in vane!

The cockpit was empty,
The pilots couldn't be found.
Those left on the plane,
Were making a terrible sound!

The more they searched,
Their fear began to grow.
They noticed more empty seats,
"Where did those people go?"

The passengers couldn't believe it.
"Where can these people be?"
"Please help us God,"
Was their fearful plea!

Down the plane went,
Bursting into a fire ball.
No one was left,
The crash consumed all!

Just where will you be,
When it's your time to die?
Will you be with Satan,
And wondering why?

You can be with God,
Asking Jesus into your heart!
Confess you sin to Him,
Then from Him never depart!
© Neal Carl  Create an image from this poem.

Would You Trust a Computer

WOULD YOU TRUST A COMPUTER?

Here is the new revolutionary airliner for the world; it’s a flying dream, so advanced.
Full of electronic gadgets and toys doing all the work, just program the computer, sit back and enjoy the flight.

You’re a computer technician six miles above the earth. Beware, though, if something goes wrong, you will die as the computer is always right, a mere man is wrong.
It looks like man has become redundant from the cockpit in the name of progress.

I think this is not the way to do it; progress isn’t always right – not when 500 people die on a lonely hillside due to some stupid glitch in the system.

The Rule of Two

What’s happened with airbus of Germanwings
remained severely  how  might be crazy 
and fatally even for instant give in 
and sag and failure democracy.
Even for second we have not right, comrades 
forget about its sacred commandments.
  
When one pilot excluded from ruling
closed outside of cockpit
And co-pilot left alone 
decided to demonstrate to  the world
how mighty and powerful he was, 
making really unfogetfull event
in history of aviation and mankind
as the most compelling argument
to respect inflexibly and unchangeable
the rule of democracy – our surviving.  

Even for second we have not right, comrades, 
forget about  sacred commandments
and principles  of Democracy.

Premium Member Uh, Tower, We Have a Problem Here

They were nearing LaGuardia Airport when the pilot felt a sudden urge.
He told the copilot to grab the yoke saying his bladder he must purge!
He left the cockpit and wended his way to the lavatory in the rear.
Thus, a series of events unfolded, some of which remain quite unclear!

Things 'flowed' along nicely until the pilot attempted to exit the john!
Alas, the door was jammed and he mused, "Is someone putting me on?"
When he tried to escape from his predicament he discovered a catch;
He was alarmed to find that the doggone door had a defective latch!

In the cockpit the copilot was growing very uneasy about their plight.
The tower called to say they were 50 miles out and were cleared to alight!
To add to his consternation, some jerk was pounding on the cockpit door,
Yelling with a foreign accent - a serious situation he dare not ignore!

The tower operator, just to be certain there would be no later regrets,
Wisely called the Air Force and they alerted a squadron of their jets!
The copilot proffered a prayer saying, "Lord, have mercy on us please!
Help, Lord!  Landing this bird alone will test my fortitude and expertise!"

In the meantime good Samaritans helped the pilot to escape his cell!
He scampered to the cockpit to take charge and all turned out well!
This mortifying escapade will be long remembered in airline lore,
About the pilot whose wings were clipped by a faulty lavatory door!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

(Based on an actual incident that occured on a flight from Asheville, NC
to LaGuardia Airport, 16 Nov 2011.   Written with just a tad of embel-
lishment!)

A Ride With the Navigator

As I travelled across the night sky
by means of an arrowhead-shaped ship
that used free energy; present across every
moon and star,
I noticed that there was no other soul
in the crew’s deck and pilot’s cockpit

‘‘Can I be in a gigantic kind of drone
of some sort?’’ I asked myself as the vehicle
increased its speed to almost that of lightning;
faster than a bullet from a stun gun.

At the right corner of the ship,
I could see different types of strange-
looking alien life from other solar
systems and distant galaxies in glass enclosing,
which looked well cared for, though there
was no sign of soul doing these things

Though I couldn’t see any signs of fans
or ventilators, oxygen was in good supply
all around me, with a slight sensation
of mint in my respiratory system ,
which quickly took my flu away
strangely enough!

The floor looked like glass mixed with silver
and a hard, glossy material that might take a while
to be discovered

While inside the spaceship,
you could see the external environment
clearly, though the people outside
would only see a silvery craft,
just like I did before telepathic voices
instructed me to get inside where I was then

The external environment I could see at the moment
was out-of-place experience where palace-like dwellings
levitated in midair, strange humanoids flew around using
their wings, flower gardens floated in the air, and five moons
of different colors competed to glow in unique beauty

………still I was waiting to hear about my special mission 
on Earth, our mother planet, from beings of the fifth dimension,
who had instructed the ship to search for me (why me?!!)

Time Machine Trauma

I hand over the bank notes - the box I take home
A flat pack tech gadget wrapped up in white foam
I peel open the packing - my keenness obscene
To lay out and make up my new time machine

I look at the pieces - feel ill and confused
Some look rather old - some look quite misused
The box should be mint - instead it's been torn
The branding is tired - the printing is worn

The instruction's in Swedish - the picture's unclear
This thing-gummy-doodah - screw there or glue here?
A few bits left over - a few bits amiss
I'm losing my patience along with my wits

It doesn't look perfect - I hope it will do
I sit in the cockpit - time travel debut
I dial in year zero - an interesting time
I arrive at last week - a paradox crime

In anger and sadness I pack the gizmo
I take back my purchase to reclaim my dough
With box under arm I storm into the shop
My future receipt slammed down counter top

There isn't a problem - my money's returned
They know that in practice it's really a loan
The box is repaired and returned to the shelf
And next week they sell to my good future self


Rewritten 16th April 2017
Entry to "Jamie's interesting contest 2 - travel back in time topic"

Bar None 1

No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards
No holds barred, utter defeat is what I see in those cards

It's a dirty world, but my heat's considered hand sanitizer

Made my dreams become reality, I'm not a big 'fanisizer'

My trap got cheese, but I'm trying to keep away rats

Life's a gamble, take a chance, like playing craps

Time to take you to school, and money's the topic

Smokin' on Jamaica helps me focus, I keep something tropic

Cash rules everything 'round me and it's in my pocket

That means I'm in control, if this was a plane, I'm in the cockpit

I'm a hustler, got more bricks than a construction site

I stay fresh, I'm flyer than a first-class flight

By any means necessary, hard times call for drastic measures

Get in my way, and get buried like pirate's treasures

Never see me fold, it's like I got the winning hand in Poker

I'm more dangerous than cancer in the lungs of a smoker

Talk crazy, catch a hook, how's that for a punchline

Show me the competition, I call that lunch-time

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