Cleaning my office out this morning, I found this old poetry anthology I was in from 1990 called “Live Poets Society” edited by Henry Normal. It was a group of young people who came together to read out our poems to each other after I put a poster up in Manchester offering people the chance to “come out of the closet” as poets. We ended up doing some live gigs as a group, one particularly talented individual went on to win a Bafta (Dave Gorman) and, of course, Henry became one of the leading lights in British comedy. All wonderful people who I hope are all doing well 22 years on.
I was pleased to find a poem in the book that I wrote in 1988 which was my attempt to sum up an aerobatic sortie in verse. Unfortunately, this blog does not allow me to lay it out in the format I originally intended (to make an aeroplane shape), but here it is anyway….
Elastic is taught, clammy and near,
Looking around, prop is clear.
Rising gently, air is clean,
Sensing the power, fulfilling the dream.
Homogenous blue, tainted by abstracts,
Emotion runs high, elation it racks.
Limbs become heavy, gauntlet is lain,
Strain through the tunnel, time not to be vain.
Over too soon, sweating and panting,
Re-focus the mind, pick radio rantings.
Contact controlled, landing is neat,
Release is too short, freedom is sweet.
If anyone reading this has any flying related poetry, I’d love to read it.