Metallic Dragons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I would love to have finished this, but I'd have to do it in air... which might take a while to happen again....

Submitted: July 26, 2008

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Submitted: July 26, 2008

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I'm waiting, waiting, still just waiting there,
To be bourne aloft in a beast of air,
Of steel and petrol, of dreams and hard work,
To mount my small chair and eat with my fork
Savoring an aptly named main coarse.
They call us all in, a voice with no source,
\"D23 now boarding... Row one.\"
The last line ruining my little fun.
I look around and see my fellow \"friends,\"
All single serving, all to have quick ends,
As we leave at the other terminal
Still calling each other the sad word \"pal\"
\"Two.\" (\"That you?\")
\"Three.\" (Sigh, not me.)
\"Four.\" (This is a bore.)
\"Five.\" (Start to feel alive.)
\"Six.\" (A boy leaps up and kicks.)
I rush into the line, yet one more time,
But the lenght of it is almost a crime.
I hand my ticket and walk into it,
Into my steel bird that which does not shit,
That only drinks and has a queer gas problem;
That swallows birds whole and has no phlegm.
I sit down in discomfort- the small chair
Has been given a descent load to bear.
The pretzel bag has instructions with wit
Reminding me why the chair has it's fit.
Another disembodied voice comes on
\"We are ready now\" it begins to fawn.
I sit there annoyed, finally leaving,
The plane moves forward as I start weaving
A thought, a revelation in my head
That my mount is a beast- the dreams of dead
And alive alike- who don't yet witness
Little gemstones in a sea of darkness
As I do, with my full stomach and clothers
My money, my food and my unbroken nose
To fly away in an armored dragon
I am the hero of an epic song
The adventurer who is travelling
To a foreign land with a xeno king
Armorless in such an untamed region
Armed with mere wits and knowledge of sun
And moon and stars (and some petty cash too)
Stranded, forced to make enemies rue
Standing before me- cruel barriers like
Language, law and memories of a pike
Awaiting my head, should I fail at this
Which merely precedes the hellish abyss
But then I hear what most I fear- \"Hello\"
...


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