Long Aircraft carrier Poems
Long Aircraft carrier Poems. Below are the most popular long Aircraft carrier by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Aircraft carrier poems by poem length and keyword.
We had 16 crews that were assigned to the raid,
Of Japan, ‘cos of Pearl Harbour where we got laid;
We prepared on Egland Field for the aircraft carrier,
And didn’t believe a B-25 could take off the warrior.
We speculated that we headed for Japan, their deserve,
And the second day we were on the carrier, did serve,
We began to have meetings and be drilled to attack,
To implement the Doolittle Raid to get them back.
Was I scared? Well no, I was ready for it, was waiting,
And that taking off morning was a benefit according,
But when we took off, I immediately let off and said,
“My God, we did it, we did it,” and it was a fine bed.
The B-25’s were truly amazing, popping into the air,
And we just knew they could do it, fly off a carrier,
And the navigator sent us on our way to the target,
A Japanese chemical factory, big and was a magnet.
Our assignment was to fly 50 miles out to the sea,
Then parallel to the Japanese mainland, then definitely,
South and then fly west, which would take much gas,
So we just had to hope for a strong wind our way to pass.
It did, and I consider myself as a lucky guy, got out,
‘Cos other pilots didn’t, only got ten miles inland, were out,
They were captured and never came back to tell their story,
Whilst I seem to have admiration and to get all the glory.
I just did my best, the best that I possibly could,
Those guys are just as much of a hero, understood,
I graduated with many from a US flying school,
To do with major league in England, a death pool.
SILVERWARE
Somewhere on Long Island,
J____ C_______ is missing a knife…
K__ brought it with him
And left it in the truck
When we were working together.
J____ C_______!
The last person bold enough,
To extend the hand of friendship to K__,
Who drinks and drugs,
And now, he is homeless
The endless patterns of alienation reach in,
As I remember all my friends.
Some, who have gone on into darkness,
And some, who have just… gone on…
This thin spoon (it always bends, when I wash it)
Is from sweet Angela.
Old as magic,
And had music straight through her,
Hands clapping, feet tapping,
She was up and dancing,
The minute the music started,
Whatever music it was!
She is gone, now.
After living some years with a stroke,
She developed wings one day
And U__ let her fly!
(It was time to say good-bye!)
And then, there was Guy!
No silverware for him, but a sword!
He called me up one day,
After we had stayed in his trailer.
“Say, brother! I found a sword in the corner, is that yours?”
No, it wasn’t and I said so.
“Well, do you suppose it would be okay,
If I took that sword up for some prayers,
To slay the demons with?”
And I told him it would be all right,
After all, he was an old knight!
Brave Guy, who was always there,
At the front of the lines for the fight.
And Gentle Guy, who went around neighborhoods,
Planting flowers for the people.
“Plug ‘em in, to God,”
He said, with a curt nod.
As if I had known, that was his intent.
Guy, who had survived World War II,
And an injury to the head
On an aircraft carrier.
Guy, whose wife, the love of his life,
Had left him, and broken him.
Guy-Of-The-Sword, who survived all that,
Only to be felled by an overdose of Ephedra Tea.
Four states away,
I heard him dying
And I called out to God
(Have I ever told anyone this?)
…But it was too late…
Too late… how could I call to God, too late
To save my friend?
But the Will of God prevails, does it not?
And we all have our Time –
“A Time to Live, and a Time to Die”
And… speaking of Time,
I have been standing here at the sink,
For too long,
With suds dripping from my fingers,
And all…
Because…
Of a knife…
Be Sure
I have been let down before.
Not once but many times.
Let us be honest,
nearly always.
Perhaps you will be different,
perhaps you will prove better,
then all the rest.
A prime cut of beef,
a perfect picked fruit,
a gold...
not silver medal,
but I would be happy,
with less.
You have missed the point entirely.
To love me like you mean it,
is to love me true.
Never lie, even when I wish you would.
Never cheat, even when it seems easiest,
at the time.
Never do less, then you and I both know,
you can do.
I will do the same.
We will agree together that we are together.
That what hurts you will hurt me.
That you will make every effort to think first,
of me, and how your words can land an aircraft carrier,
on a cup of tea at high noon, when your parents arrive unexpectedly.
You will use a hover craft to change the mood,
and take control,
cut the turkey,
dress the ham,
handle the barbeque,
to make all things easier.
Be ready with coupons to go to the right places.
Be ready for working twice as hard to buy the things,
we can not do without, like food and shelter...
but if we are homeless,
which some are...
you will comfort me,
I will comfort you,
together;
God will take care of us,
and together,
as one,
we will be
okay.
The early seventies was rather interesting
one minute hanging out with a pack of wolves
predators of the night... the next... nine weeks in boot camp
on the great lakes in Winter...so cold
then off to a very large aircraft carrier
where I spent the next two years roaming its flight decks
until..." Parker, are you, Parker "
you have fifteen minutes to get off the ship
and thirty days to make it to Memphis, Tenn
for aviation electronics school...problem...yes it was
we were in port in Naples, not Naples Fl, Naples Italy
so off I went to find the NATO base to catch a flight to Spain
but...being the red-blooded American boy I was
I decided to rent a room for two weeks in Naples, Italy
and enjoy the nightlife...so I did just that
after two weeks found NATO, flew to Spain
enjoyed a few days there, then flew to the states
made it to Memphis with a day to spare
2/23/18 contest Where were you in the 70's
Take my hand, walk with me.
I'll show you fragments from my life.
Its broken sidewalks,silently paved by broken souls,
their anger pent up from a world war.
I'll show you soft winters of a child and his sled.
The burden and frustrations of being a teenager,
in the sixties.
A President murdered,water fountains with signs,
blacks only,whites only.
Cities burning, gas rationing, fear of nuclear annihilation.
My shattered dream and short stint as a professional athlete.
My years on an aircraft carrier that sent pilots to war,
to the old man I am today.
I hitch-hiked across the country,a year lost, or a year spent
and asked nothing from any one, except truth.
I care little for those who think themselves important,
it's a waste of energy and it becomes folly.
I built a business and retired from it,
to hold my grand-children close.
If this poem gives you pause,
then writing it claims its purpose.
4/8/15 contest..bio of a poet
Mystical the Rose
A day 1 day came to me
Without a single thorn adorned
whom nature's bird's and bees flock to
When summer fragrant idol care's
it's fruit and petals to lay bare
And her wing's whilst flying bye
whispered carefree into both
of my long deaf waxy ears
Via the gift of choral chord hummingbird song
Come fly away with me to a higher plane
I'll be your poetic fighter pilot maverick
and you can be my trusted wing man
mother goose
Needed in order so we can both land
aboard the aircraft carrier flight deck
Emblazoned with the befitting name
Higher-Plane of Mysterious Nature