Looking for a aviation poem

Mxfarm

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Marc
It's for my brother-in-law who was a COM MEL IA. He passed away Sunday night @ age 50 with cancer. My sister would like to have a aviation oriented poem for back of the funeral program.

If anyone has anything that might be fitting you can PM me or email to mpopejoy@powderpaintinc.com.

thanks,

marc
 
High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .​
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.​
— John Gillespie Magee, Jr


http://www.skygod.com/quotes/highflight.html

 
I agree. High Flight is the best.
 
High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .​
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.​
— John Gillespie Magee, Jr


http://www.skygod.com/quotes/highflight.html

Best ever.
 
Back in the day, one of the local TV stations where I was then stationed (either Pensacola or San Antonio) used to sign off at midnight with a reading of 'High Flight' instead of the national anthem. I always found it very touching.
 
Just want to say a big thanks for all the condolences. I also want to thank everyone for the poems that were posted and emailed. My sister ended up choosing "A Flyers Prayer", however she also really like "High Flight". Thanks everyone for all the help. I've posted it just in case someone hasn't seen it.

marc popejoy
 

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Re: HELP Looking for a certain aviation poem

(pardon my typos) I am brand new to this site and stumbled on it when I Googled "find aviation poem". Several (20+) years ago I was reading an aviation magazine (?) and there was a poem in it that I really liked. I clipped the poem out and have since hidden it from myself. I have Googled the parts of the poem that I remember with NO LUCK. I actually called the publisher of several aviation magazines, i.e. Private Pilot, APOA, etc. Still NO LUCK. I am requesting that anyone who might have some way of locating the poem please contact me through this forum. I remember the title: Me and My J3. I also remember a line from it, "Perfection escaped me today, but not by much". Anyone who can help me it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, Charlie
 
Re: HELP Looking for a certain aviation poem

(pardon my typos) I am brand new to this site and stumbled on it when I Googled "find aviation poem". Several (20+) years ago I was reading an aviation magazine (?) and there was a poem in it that I really liked. I clipped the poem out and have since hidden it from myself. I have Googled the parts of the poem that I remember with NO LUCK. I actually called the publisher of several aviation magazines, i.e. Private Pilot, APOA, etc. Still NO LUCK. I am requesting that anyone who might have some way of locating the poem please contact me through this forum. I remember the title: Me and My J3. I also remember a line from it, "Perfection escaped me today, but not by much". Anyone who can help me it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, Charlie

An excellent resource for searching for information about poems is Columbia Granger’s Index to Poetry. This is a subscription database and you would need to pay to use it. But it is one that many public and academic libraries subscribe to. You could ask them to help. I have access to it, if you post some more info I could try and search for you. The Columbia Granger’s Index to Poetry is great because you can not only search by author, type, title, year, etc. you can search by partial content. That is to say if you remember a line from the poem the search engine can key on that.
 
Because I Fly...

...I laugh more than other men,
I look up and see more than they,
I know how the clouds feel,
What it's like to have the blue in my lap,
to look down on birds,
to feel freedom in a thing called the stick...
who but I can slice between God's billowed legs,
and feel then laugh and crash with His step?
Who else has seen the unclimbed peaks?
The rainbow's secret?
The real reason birds sing?
Because I Fly, I envy no man on earth.

Brian Shull
 
Because I Fly...

...I laugh more than other men,
I look up and see more than they,
I know how the clouds feel,
What it's like to have the blue in my lap,
to look down on birds,
to feel freedom in a thing called the stick...
who but I can slice between God's billowed legs,
and feel then laugh and crash with His step?
Who else has seen the unclimbed peaks?
The rainbow's secret?
The real reason birds sing?
Because I Fly, I envy no man on earth.

Brian Shull
Thank you for this.
 
Song of the Valkyries
by: Anonymous
(Found in the wreckage of a WW11 Marine Corps fighter that was shot down over New Ireland)

have skimmed the ragged edge of lightning death
And torn from bloody flesh of sky a thunder song.
Across the nakedness of virgin space
I've blistered my frozen hand in feathered ice
And dared angelic wrath to smash
The snarling will of my demon steed

Far above sun-glint on winded spume
High executioner of laws no man has made,
I've welded Samurai knights into fiery tombs
And hurled them down like the plumed Minoan
Far down the searing heights to punch
Their livid crates in the sea.
"Enemies", you say. They were not mine.
More than blood brothers, I swear,
With tawny skin and warrior eye.
Bushido-bred for hell-strife joy.
Much closer my kin, my race than those
Who cud-chew their lives can ever be.
"War-lover", you say, "Sadist, psychotic"
That sick cycle of canned clichis masking
Your lust for eternity fettered to time.
Go, epigonic pygmies, make peace with hell,
Drag the myths of our ancient might
Through the miserable muck of a cringer's dream.

What could you know
Who have never heard
The soaring song of the Valkyries,
Felt thunder-gods jousting with livid peaks:
You who have never dared to walk the razor
Across the zenith of your peevish soul?
 
This is my all-time favorite

"Twas the eighteenth of April in forty-two
When we waited to hear what Jimmy would do,
Little did Hiro think that that night
The skies above Tokyo would be alight
With the fires Jimmy started in Tokyo's dives
To guide to their targets the B-25's.

One if by land and two if by sea
But if from the air the signal was three
When all of a sudden from out of the skies
Came of basket of eggs for the little slanteyes
So Hiro and Tojo just buried their heads
Under the carpets and under the beds

Their posteriors turned into rising suns
As bombs they fell by tons and tons
Then a stab of pain made Hiro shiver
Was it his kidney or was it his liver?
Or was it perhaps; alack, alas
A returned Jap medal was assaulting his (Honorable self)....

~Written by Commander Stanhope C. Ring, chief of the Hornet's air group, for the ship's newpaper. Describes the first air raid on Tokyo.
 
One More Roll
We toast our hearty comrades who have fallen from the skies, and were gently caught by God's own hand to be with him on High.

To dwell among the soaring clouds they've known so well before. From victory roll to tail chase, at heaven's very door.

As we fly among them there, we're sure to head their plea. To take care my friend, watch your six, and do one more roll for me.

— Commander Jerry Coffee, Hanoi, 1968.
 
Just want to say a big thanks for all the condolences. I also want to thank everyone for the poems that were posted and emailed. My sister ended up choosing "A Flyers Prayer", however she also really like "High Flight". Thanks everyone for all the help. I've posted it just in case someone hasn't seen it.

marc popejoy

I had not heard that one before, I got choked up just reading it. I printed it to put in my Bible and read it to my wife when she came in. I dang near cried when I read it to her.... how embarrassing. :cryin:

Thank you for that. I hate you found it under the circumstances, but I'm glad you posted it.
 
Wow these are so beautiful, i'm in tears from reading some of these
 
There's one about a pilot that starts out on grass runways and progresses thought bigger and faster aircraft and even spacecraft in his search for satisfaction aloft, only to finally realize when looking back at Earth from space that the initial meadow hopping at will was the best.

Anybody know the title?
 
http://www.187thahc.net/poems/flying_west.htm

I hope there's a place, way up in the sky,
Where pilots can go, when they have to die-
A place where a guy can go and buy a cold beer
For a friend and comrade, whose memory is dear;
A place where no doctor or lawyer can tread,
Nor management type would ere be caught dead;
Just a quaint little place, kinda dark and full of smoke,
Where they like to sing loud, and love a good joke;
The kind of place where a lady could go
And feel safe and protected, by the men she would know.

There must be a place where old pilots go,
When their paining is finished, and their airspeed gets low,
Where the whiskey is old, and the women are young,
And the songs about flying and dying are sung,
Where you'd see all the fellows who'd flown west before.
And they'd call out your name, as you came through the door;
Who would buy you a drink if your thirst should be bad,
And relate to the others, "He was quite a good lad!"

And then through the mist, you'd spot an old guy
You had not seen for years, though he taught you how to fly.
He'd nod his old head, and grin ear to ear,
And say, "Welcome, my son, I'm pleased that you're here.
"For this is the place where true flyers come,
"When the journey is over, and the war has been won
"They've come here to at last to be safe and alone
From the government clerk and the management clone,
"Politicians and lawyers, the Feds and the noise
Where the hours are happy, and these good ol'boys
"Can relax with a cool one, and a well-deserved rest;
"This is Heaven, my son -- you've passed your last test!"

Author: Capt. Michael J. Larkin
Dedicated to: Capt. E. Hamilton Lee
 
Born with the wings of an eagle,
I was destined to fly.
Flying high in the sky,
I can now see why.
Perspective is very clear from up here,
I have no fear.
For now I am free,
Free to fly as the eagle I was destined to be.
 
I've blessed my wings a thousand times
for where they've carried me--
high up the ladders of the wind--
far out across the prairies of the sky
to lands my fathers never knew
and shores my kindred never trod--
threading the corridors of templed cloud
out and away beyond accustomed sights
and sounds and creeds and breeds.

I've blessed my wings a thousand times
because of doors they held ajar
to aspirations of a seeking youth--
the vistas and horizons that receded endlessly
though I pursued them furiously--
the ceaseless challenge to orbit beyond
the perimeters of the antiquated
and weary traditions and dogmas
which anchor men to the bloody past.

I've blessed my wings because they are
the physical evidence of the moral concept
that to mankind nothing is impossible--
that creation is his heritage and that
the language of God is articulate
and intelligible in the laws of the universe.
Time is not the measure of rising and setting suns
but the processing of experience from which
the truth emerges for all who run to read.

For all of this and more beside
which points to the stars and beyond,
I've blessed my wings a thousand times.

But there is a nearer ecstasy!
The wings that bear one home--the song
of the engine when the homebound leagues
fold the homesick heart in their embrace--
the joy of letting down to the place
the heart has never left--the thrill
of returning to the one spot on earth
beloved above all others--home!

And, if it be "Home for Christmas,"
how thrice blessed are my wings.

- Gill Robb Wilson
 
My condolences to all who have lost a dear one. A few years ago, this poem was shared at a local pilot’s service. I have saved the card since but I’m going to get rid of it. I thought this was a good place to keep it and share it so it’s available to others. I don’t know the author, I just know it’s beautiful and touching.

FINAL CHECKRIDE

Do not look at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I’m up in the sky.
I’ve passed my final checkride.
And now I’m free to fly.
To places I’ve only dreamed of,
while flying mortals through the sky.
Do not grieve for me, for I’m free to fly.
Do not grieve for me, for I did not die.
I just joined the flying club in the sky.
 
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