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truckerjean

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Jean, like your poems!

Here's one I made earlier. It's recycled from a Safety and Training thread, so a bit preachy for The Bonfire - but it's all I've got right now! :)

I thought I'd learned my lesson well.
At two-point-five I was scared as hell.
By fifteen hundred and still in twists,
My handles gripped in white-knuckled fists
I thought I heard the angels sing,
'You really should have repacked that thing.'

But life is short and planes won't wait
(I tell myself as I face my fate).

At a thousand feet and still no chop
With nowhere to go
But a sudden stop,
I really thought I'd die from fright
But pulled that pad with all my might...

And lo! My three rings became one.
My mal'd Diablo was upped and gone.
My RSL then did its stuff,
Which was just as well since I'd had enough.
I reached the ground with nothing breaking
Though couldn't stand 'til my legs stopped shaking.

But that was several hours ago.
I'm in the bar, I'm in full flow.
'Oh sorry, Death, but not today,
No, not with my mad drillz in play.
And Jesus, there I was, no shit
But d'you see how well I dealt with it?'
The tale gets taller with the telling.
There was no fear, no frantic yelling,
Just a save for me to savour.
With each new beer I was that bit braver.

And then, despite my addled wits
I recall my gear is still in bits.
The weekend's only halfway through
And I have many jumps to do.
I'll ask my rigger, be super slick,
Just make it work and make it quick.
Your safety checks and stuff are great
But life is short and planes won't wait.

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How'd i miss this! I love poetry, it's so unappreciated nowadays. Anyway, jotted this down last night. No title because i suck at that:

I saw your twin today
reading a newspaper and drinking a latte
oblivious of my regard.

I was at the bookstore
killing the day
reading a bad novel.
I had no intention of buying it.

Just sitting there reading,
I wasn't thinking of you
for once. But there,
there you were.

Checking the sports scores.
Your eyes, blue and clear.
Your nose, perfect.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was yours alone.

I knew it wasn't you, just a twin,
But for a moment,
Just a moment,
I allowed myself to daydream.

To see you looking at me.
Your eyes, looking into mine.
Your nose touching mine as we kiss.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was for me alone.

I saw your twin today
and it made me miss you
all over again,
And I had to look twice
Just to be sure.

Never meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup!

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I love this even more on the second reading! Tho the last word puzzles me, it is seems clever for all its dissonance.



First, thanks!
Second... confusing grammatically or something else? :)
I was going for journey here, where 'hope' ends at the end of one (through hardships or otherwise). A "new hope beginning" is a play on starting a new journey/path. ;)


Well, no...it is the meter that was well established in the rhyme pattern - and then it abruptly changed...this would work if you added more verses with the new rhyming and meter change.

I like to end my poems with a thought-provoking word, but It helps if the word blends.
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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The Mothball Fleet

Abandoned by their makers
The ships’ anchor chains lie slack in the passionless inland waters.
Bows that once braved seas that rose like black mountains
Now bear the wake-slap of pleasure craft.
The guns, once deadly, are rusted to harmlessness
And aim without purpose at vacant sky.
Hopeless, the warships have outlived their lovers.

They sleep, and yet, they dream, ghosts that they are.
Under a bejeweled sky, the moon rises silvery in the East
And, like a mystical celestial lodestone, it pulls.
Steel and iron, long dormant, stir; desire quickens in the holds.
Chains grow taut; a thrill ricochets from deck to deck and
The metal moans in the pale light. A breeze arises and with it
Comes the lusty song of sailors, long dead.
Then, one by one, the anchors that bind the ships to land break free,
And, once more, the mothball fleet puts to sea.


Ahhh.
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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The best scars are those that can be forgiven
The worst are those that just happen.
A passing breeze
an ember falling from the heavens of no consequence to any but for my tinder box in which it fell
And began to burn
Blame,
anger at no one but fate,
but the odds,
the invisible numbers over my head that imply possibility
1 in 37
1 in 649,740
And the fire burns slow
Smoldering for years only to erupt and consume all
And return into the smoke from which it came.

The odds were never on my side. And she has burned me well.


This is amazing! I love the grasping of statistics to explain the unexplainable; really clever. I also had a good laugh remembering my own, numerous, passing breezes! They sometimes suck - but there have also been times....:)
Well done!
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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Moving Forward

Oh, the twisty turns and sudden drops
Mixed with tears and joyous laughs!
Embracing love,
Letting go
Describes the days not long ago...
With warm hello's
And sad goodbyes
Mere testaments of how time flies!
Good and bad - intertwined
Cherished moments in our minds

Oh, tempered spirits of aging souls
Within ourselves who yearns to grow.
Move forward and step again
Walk past the evening glen
And lift our heads high
Turn to fly
Through the gates of days gone by
And face the sun with beaming pride
For another New Year has arrived!


Really lovely. You have an excellent grasp of what it means to live life as a human; it is a tangle of wonders. :)
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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It doesn't sound preachy at all.
Add a chorus and I could see it as a song :D


MikeJD - Yes! With guitar around the bonfire! I thought it was great! There is a small grammatical issue in the middle - just a read through will do the trick ;) over-all, I felt it clearly. Great job! Psst> I gotta do one about the bonfire, but mine would be too sappy...you first! :)
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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How'd i miss this! I love poetry, it's so unappreciated nowadays. Anyway, jotted this down last night. No title because i suck at that:

I saw your twin today
reading a newspaper and drinking a latte
oblivious of my regard.

I was at the bookstore
killing the day
reading a bad novel.
I had no intention of buying it.

Just sitting there reading,
I wasn't thinking of you
for once. But there,
there you were.

Checking the sports scores.
Your eyes, blue and clear.
Your nose, perfect.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was yours alone.

I knew it wasn't you, just a twin,
But for a moment,
Just a moment,
I allowed myself to daydream.

To see you looking at me.
Your eyes, looking into mine.
Your nose touching mine as we kiss.
Your mouth, quirked in the smile
That was for me alone.

I saw your twin today
and it made me miss you
all over again,
And I had to look twice
Just to be sure.



I thought I already commented on this, BB. I really liked it. Ah ha! It was saved in the right-click button, thank God! -thought I was going crazy for a second, jeesh!
I love the style you used. People say my prose poetry is not really poetry, and I say they have a large bug in their nether regions; your words say it all. I especially enjoyed how you parted the thoughts. Really good to a reader like me. I also noticed that you (most likely without knowing it) ran a cadence intermittently, and then came back to prose.
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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How'd i miss this! I love poetry, it's so unappreciated nowadays.]

True, and I do it for fun! I just started the thread, and I am so glad to find others who like to play with words! Whodda thunkit? We are all such macho skydivers after all:D


rolling closet home
make it nice for season
wheat-stalks from the road

can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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It doesn't sound preachy at all.
Add a chorus and I could see it as a song :D


MikeJD - Yes! With guitar around the bonfire! I thought it was great!


Thanks!

Ever since hearing someone's spirited rendition of 'The Phantom Tenth Man' by the Tecumseh bonfire one night, I've been a sucker for the old skydiving songs and poems. The older the better, since the mysterious references to now forgotten equipment, traditions and personalities just add to the poetry. :)
Anyway, this was my attempt to produce something in that vein.

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the cadence was intentional, actually...sort of a parallelism thing going on. well, semi-intentional. Like I said, i jotted this down in about 10 minutes, with really no editing.

as for prose poetry, sometimes the things you want to say just fit better as a poem. To me, poems seem to imitate thoughts better than just writing out a paragraph of prose. Not to mention, they stand alone rather than needing pages of buildup. :P

Never meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup!

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Fear not time
For time is an ocean not a river
Time brings more than it takes away
Time heals wounds and kissed tears
Time insulates us from the past and gives us a future
Time washes our heartaches and offers us sea shells
Time is where the hot sun goes to sleep and from which the perfect moon rises
Time can be as still as glass or as playful as a wave dancing on the shore
Life through good thoughts, good words, and good deeds is necessary to ensure happiness and to keep chaos at bay.

The only thing that falls from the sky is birdshit and fools!

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the cadence was intentional, actually...sort of a parallelism thing going on. well, semi-intentional. Like I said, i jotted this down in about 10 minutes, with really no editing.

as for prose poetry, sometimes the things you want to say just fit better as a poem. To me, poems seem to imitate thoughts better than just writing out a paragraph of prose. Not to mention, they stand alone rather than needing pages of buildup. :P


Ahh, I feel a 100 word prose coming on! For now, because I am feeling exceptionally lazy, I will go grab one form...somewhere on here...nah, much simple to grab a doc file...

100 words - wing

The wanton breeze, blowing fickle, flickering candle flames and tendrils of loose hair, making me long to fly once again. Da Vinci had it right. I lift my arms, showing a graceful pose to the city lights far below, and lean far over the cement barrier between me and my love. With only a bit of pain, wings push through and form solid on my back. Beautiful orange, yellow, and purple feathers meld into a soothing golden glow. I gently brush tears from my face with their tips then hold them out proudly for the wind to catch. I fly.

But if it is a sentence, all the better! :)

With her quills dipt in inks, blackened, she fells words with feathers and loose tendrils flung to the night sky.

No spell check allowed and creative license granted >silly grin
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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I am a sundial and I make a botch
Of what is done far better by a watch.



B| I should rely more on watches.

this is a fine example of iambic pentameter...the problem with IP is that it only sounds right with a British accent! Ha, true, no? I don't happen to have one of those handy, so I will muddle through...
I am a sundial and I make a botch
Of what is done far better by a watch
until the fair sun comes out for playtime
I will gaze, evermore, at the wall clock.
Teehee, that was truely bad, but bad is people too! :D I so suck at IP! Maybe if I read some freaking Shakespeare?? I hate to ruin a great story with learning...Oh, the dilemma!
Thanks for playing, though! Ok, you next!
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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Moving Forward

Oh, the twisty turns and sudden drops
Mixed with tears and joyous laughs!
Embracing love,
Letting go
Describes the days not long ago...
With warm hello's
And sad goodbyes
Mere testaments of how time flies!
Good and bad - intertwined
Cherished moments in our minds

Oh, tempered spirits of aging souls
Within ourselves who yearns to grow.
Move forward and step again
Walk past the evening glen
And lift our heads high
Turn to fly
Through the gates of days gone by
And face the sun with beaming pride
For another New Year has arrived!



...Gives me googly bumps! I love this!
Happy New Year! Yay!
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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Fear not time
For time is an ocean not a river
Time brings more than it takes away
Time heals wounds and kissed tears
Time insulates us from the past and gives us a future
Time washes our heartaches and offers us sea shells
Time is where the hot sun goes to sleep and from which the perfect moon rises
Time can be as still as glass or as playful as a wave dancing on the shore



This is great, Dude!
"beatnik clap" :)
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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I love this even more on the second reading! Tho the last word puzzles me, it is seems clever for all its dissonance.



First, thanks!
Second... confusing grammatically or something else? :)
I was going for journey here, where 'hope' ends at the end of one (through hardships or otherwise). A "new hope beginning" is a play on starting a new journey/path. ;)


Well, no...it is the meter that was well established in the rhyme pattern - and then it abruptly changed...this would work if you added more verses with the new rhyming and meter change.

I like to end my poems with a thought-provoking word, but It helps if the word blends.


I swear I saw a reply to this, but I am a bit senile at times. You do have a "continuance" to the poem, you just haven't written it yet, it was jotted down or something. I am interested in the story, and I really would love to hear the next verse (otherwise I will never go to sleep like a good girl!...) It is there, I just know it.
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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The best scars are those that can be forgiven
The worst are those that just happen.
A passing breeze
an ember falling from the heavens of no consequence to any but for my tinder box in which it fell
And began to burn
Blame,
anger at no one but fate,
but the odds,
the invisible numbers over my head that imply possibility
1 in 37
1 in 649,740
And the fire burns slow
Smoldering for years only to erupt and consume all
And return into the smoke from which it came.

The odds were never on my side. And she has burned me well.



You can't imagine how true this rings in my perimenopausal state. Yes you can, you wrote it. Amazing, Shah!
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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Fear not time
For time is an ocean not a river
Time brings more than it takes away
Time heals wounds and kissed tears
Time insulates us from the past and gives us a future
Time washes our heartaches and offers us sea shells
Time is where the hot sun goes to sleep and from which the perfect moon rises
Time can be as still as glass or as playful as a wave dancing on the shore


Your writing style in this poem reminds me of a friend that commented (in beautiful poetry) to one of my poems on facebook...hmmmm...lemme go get it...OK, here is mine:
Chambers

Chambers of the mind go unheeded
wreaking havoc on the unwary soul
Chambers of the soul go unanswered
Falsehoods reign over unenlightened friends
Foe is strengthened by unguarded chambers
filling spaces gleefully
Friend is lurking in the abyss
to find passage where Light is
Of the chambers of the heart I know not
save blood rushes, keeping alive an unwilling host
But the chambers of heaven are elusive, all seeing
unreal
And the chambers of hell unrealized
crying, knowing, ignorant and afraid
Trusting not seeing the chambers in other souls
...and here is his reply:
Mike Powers
Past thoughts rush up to the now and fill the chambers of understanding in order to felicitate a healthy change from one cyclic manifestation to another, like ocean waves filling the courtyards of sand castles on a sunny summer time beach.
Play on, as a child in the joy of rediscovery.

...I love the part about "ocean waves filling the courtyards of sand castles on a sunny summer time beach." Ahhh! to the both of u's :D
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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It doesn't sound preachy at all.
Add a chorus and I could see it as a song :D


MikeJD - Yes! With guitar around the bonfire! I thought it was great!


Thanks!

Ever since hearing someone's spirited rendition of 'The Phantom Tenth Man' by the Tecumseh bonfire one night, I've been a sucker for the old skydiving songs and poems. The older the better, since the mysterious references to now forgotten equipment, traditions and personalities just add to the poetry. :)
Anyway, this was my attempt to produce something in that vein.

An especailly awesome attempt! Can you relay any of the bonfire stories? I even tried googling "the phantom tenth man," and nothing came up! It's like some dying language like "Mam" in Mexico! Please share...thx in advance, MikeJD:)
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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BTW, I spent the first 33 jumps in line twists - I began to think it was normal...
Paul M. passed me on to another AFF instr.for a reason; I just wasn't getting the whole "stay still" thingy.
When I finally got it (thanks to a guy named Pine, I think, in Deland (man, my brain is fried! Was it Deland??) - anyway, he told me to pretend I was a bird with wings and not to let my wings out of my peripheral vision...weird, but I never spun around again, and "voila" no more line twists at opening!
I could not be more appreciative of instructors and S&TA peeps.
This sport is a process that requires safety. (teehee, that sounded suspiciously like a new tag-line, nah, too emphatic...!) haha
can I borrow a jump ticket real quick?

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