The Poet's Corner - Worlds Grassroot's Poetry Submission and Feedback Site

Send The PC Your Original Poetry NOW! [Send PC Your Original Poetry!]
OR [PC's On-line Submission Form]


Donald E. Felch's "The Ride"
Cold, Hard mechanical mass
Bolt, Fastener, oil and gas
Push, Pull, raise up on jacks
Heavy machinery brackets and racks

Hour, Month, subsequent year
Crank, Turn lever and gear
Heat, Cold nighttime and morn'
Sun, Rain, uniform torn

'Till One clear autumn day
Change Clothes put tools away
Click, Snap locked in the seat
Cold, Dead starting to beat

Low Hum canopy down
"Comm Check" whistling sound
High Shrill screaming alarms
Low Growl moves through my arms

Deep Down inside of this beast
Pulse; Pulse alive in the least
Now Roll slowly ahead
Guts, Ice boots made of lead

Slow Turn, follow the line
No Tug pulling this time
Roll; Roll down to the end
Swing Round line up again

"Seat Check," radio call
Lever Down, time seems to crawl
"Fangs, clear into the sky"
Read Back, ready to fly

Rumble, Roar rattle and shake
Blind Speed, now full awake
Great Beast talons pretend
Grabs Air, wings now extend

Now Climb straight for the sun
Smooth quiet gracefully one
Slip slide at one with the air
Soar, roll erase every care

Lakes, Ponds gliding below
Laid Out moving in tow
For-Get Omnimax view
I'll Take this one in lieu

Tight turn pressure begins
Heart beats taught-lipped face grins
G-Suit pushes against
Hard muscles straining to last

Great Bird turns on a dime
Blood Pumps feeling the climb
Breathe Now sharp and in gasps
Get Air! Lungs try to grasp

Now Look we're rolling again
Farms Bluffs fields of grain
High Up on top of the world
Light Clouds wispy and curled

Low Fuel it's over too soon
Slow Bank to leave afternoon 
Last Turn, home is below
Drop Fast, ground seems to grow

Growl Whir mechanical sound
Bounce Once, down on the ground
Roll Out, bird now asleep
Pulse; Pulse great heart still beats

Last Turn, into the house
Spool Down, quiet as a mouse
Cold Hard mechanical mass
Bolt, Fastener oil and gas

Way Back, inside just the same
Pulse; Pulse a bird not so tame
New View, I take up my tools
Heat, Cold I now can excuse.

Donald E. Felch
22 October, 1998

This verse is the original creation of Donald E. Felch © 1998-2004, Jezznik
Publications.  It is not to be printed, or distributed electronically, stored, 
transmitted, posted or shared through any means without the express written 
consent of the author.  Receipt or possession of this written work does not 
constitute permission.
Send The PC Your Original Poetry NOW!Feedback/Review to Donald Flech on his poetry!
Send The PC Your Original Poetry NOW!Feedback/Review on Donald's poetry to the PC.