winter days are for feasting

high in the sunlit silence

from

the sputtering gliding of the wright brothers to

charles lindbergh's glorious voyage over the sea to

the magnificent battle to sail to the moon

americans dominate the field of flight,

with bombastic determination to achieve the impossible

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 even 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.

Armoured cars sail the sky

They're pink at dawn

If I lived forever, you just wouldn't be

So beautiful, as the sun

When it shines all over the world

We're pilots watching the stars

The world pre-occupied

We're pilots watching the stars

Who do we think we are?

Ice and clouds, shimmer outside

Rain just falls, at magic hour

It's just the sound of you and me

Time twitching

Murmurs of our friendly machine

We're pilots watching the stars

The world pre-occupied

We're pilots watching the stars

Who do we think we are?

There's just the sound

Of you and me

(golfrapp - pilots)

rhapsody in blue

over and over again. clouds tumbling; spilling over the mountains as the misty dawn fades into the dust. late morning. lazy morning. escaping the earth. airplanes soar, graceful metal birds with a steady song that mumbles through air. thick air, wet. listening to the silence. waiting. the sun glows, does not burn today. no summer breeze, not yet. before the storm it will blow big breaths, gusts that suddenly frighten the trees. oblivious. blissful. peace. anticipation.

stanzas for music

There be none of Beauty's daughters

With a magic like thee;

And like music on the waters

Is thy sweet voice to me:

When, as if its sound were causing

The charmed ocean's pausing,

The waves lie still and gleaming,

And the lulled winds seem dreaming;

And the midnight moon is weaving

Her bright chain o'er the deep,

Whose breast is gently heaving

As an infant's asleep:

So the spirit bows before thee,

To listen and adore thee,

With a full but soft emotion,

Like the swell of Summer's ocean.

Lord Byron

mad, bad, and dangerous to know

today I've decided to create a journal

certainly not with ink

although that would be quaint

this is 2010 after all!

I am not Famous or even Rich

but taste cannot be bought

and it is rarely applauded immediately