In the Days of Airships

Once upon wings of gold I soared,

Heavily, but with pride and privelige,

And I looked down below at the lighthearted airships

That reached for the skies, though never adrift.

Never were safe enough, proclaimed their creators,

But we are trying; one day, you shall see.

 

Now answer, dear traveler, when I ask of you -

How were they bound?

With beautiful ropes?  Lace and twine?

Yes.  And they were so content to sit within a field, bound to the ground,

Bouncing with the breeze and waiting for the wind to lift them to the skies.

 

Never anymore do I see airships.

Not the conformity of the rows, basking in the sun

Not the hope they exhibit, though ground-bound with rope and twine.

I see airplanes.  Single-engines.  Jets.

You name it.

To these ancient eyes,

Nothing is new anymore.

Yet everything is new.

 

I’ve flown over there, overhead,

Watching, waiting,

Smiling as hope bore fruit,

And one after another, they met me in the skies.

And I’d honor them with my golden wings,

Honor their courage, honor that they broke the norm

And took the challenge.

 

But there is no hope in these new planes’ endeavors.

Just the fossil-fuel sound of certainty,

Just the ear-blasting roar of engines as they blaze by.

The moment they leave the ground, you know everything’s going to be okay, and that tomorrow, another record will be broken.

A given.

 

In this sure, utopic world, there is no risk.

Yet the air is filled with toxicity �"

Toxicity of challenges met and records usurped.

All without a single thought.

And I am tired of it all �"

I just want to get away, get away.

 

And sometimes I miss the bobbing airships

Sitting upon the ground,

Looking to the skies,

Hoping.

Those small adrift packages of flammable air -

Those that can light at a moment’s notice,

Or come crashing to the ground.

 

They were bound down with beautiful ropes and twine.

I’d go and help the creators build them back up.

 

Dear traveler,

Have you ever seen a world, where your plane is nothing but grey?

Grey mountains, grey skies, grey waters, grey air.

On Earth, they have a book; this book has a saying.

“Nothing gold can stay,”

And it doesn’t.

 

One day, I want to take to the skies, with golden wings �"

Gold not worn by pollution to lightness.

No, I want to take to the skies with gold that is heavy, that bears weight.

Gold that takes pride to light.

 

I can no longer fly.

For this, I am sorry.

I offer my greatest condolences

For this experience you shall never see.

 

I have shed my broken, chem-burned wings.

I am standing within this colorless world,

Looking up, solemnly gazing,

Calling out.

 

I am pleading for the skies to reveal their shine once more

And fill me with the glow of the sun,

And heal all that has been lost.

 

No more toxic environments.

Some days, I think I will catch on fire.

Or send the world into a burning cold melt-pot

Of icy hot apocalypse.

 

I suppose I have made an airship of myself,

Of my dreams, of my thoughts,

Of my ambitions, my lives,and my long-lost great world.

 

So I’ll stand here, calling out,

And watching the jets rush by.

 

Yearning for the day when a new round of airships

Takes into the skies.

 

Author's Note

Haven't been here for awhile. I should come more often.

I have no idea what I have just written. My fingers did it. Not my head.

EDIT: Looks like it's turning my dashes into "

Reviews

[Lizardo]

"On Earth, they have a book; this book has a saying.
“Nothing gold can stay,”
And it doesn’t."
I sincerely love this poem a lot, it made my imagination about airplanes go to another level reading it, it made feel like I was on riding on airplane with big clouds and a dusk view behind all.
The poem is beautiful, although, I must tell you that maybe it would be better if you changed the font size, but that's just my opinion so don't worry :)
Really enjoyed the poem, great job!