Tag: flying

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We Can’t Outfly The Sky, We Can’t Outrun The Sun

Fleeing from the sunset, we are, in this airboat sailing,
but it’ll catch up eventually after we reach our port.
We waste the day, shielded from our local star,
only to complain that it’s on the wrong side of the planet when we’re ‘done with work’ and ‘ready’ for’t.
From being in sync with nature, to slowly being conditioned into overly pampered vampires,

what a quagmire: we only live ‘happily’ when we spend nothing, but have everything, when we have the means, but not necessarily the will, and when we get more than “not enough,” but not “too much” sun.
We’re not really hiding from nature, we’re just flying west – or am I just in denial?

In the 21st of these centuries (friendly reminder that ‘time’ is entirely made up) we’re less connected to our natural surroundings than we might have ever been, a sliding scale that correlates with our tech, rising,
We recoil at touching earth while sipping on our ultra processed beverage of choice.
We rely on technology our ancestors never had to pamper ourselves, finding ways to enhance life, dial down our capacity to think, trade convenience for everything, even our own voice.

So while we fly high, no lie, you know this – this is irony, ideal;
As tech evolves, so does our hubris, our collective idea that we’re ‘above’ life as we know it, that human superiority is real.
Forget not we are all stardust, nature is the only ‘ruler’ of this rotating blue pearl,
Open your mind to where water flows, plants grow, and phone service is non-existent – find time away from our man-made world. – RSM

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Plane-ing through Hindsight

Each moment we find ourselves at another crux – a six-way lane change that cluster bombs out into an infinite range –


Perpetual potential possibilities present powerful plans, possessing mis pensamientos,


Gathering speed while moving forward is the most logical direction, but this multi-dimensional intersection has me sometimes traveling through space-time, second-guessing;


With every new open door is the draft that slams the last one,
Shutting out the doubts and tribulations from yesteryear’s thick fog, and dark clouds.


We don’t look back that much, that’s why the rearview mirror is so small,
But at times we do look back again and see things a little differently, a perspective updated,

With these previous moments’ emotions expired – examining experiences end up expedited, prorated.


Taking off back to the now, elevation is the growth, and the speed is the effort, we’re the pilots of our own narratives –


Journée-ing toward a new day, and as our lives fly upward, forward, we can’t help but check our six
to see the airspace behind and below us where we used to be.


Forward is still the way to go, the brave steps we put our feet towards, even when we feel at a loss for words, we can’t let past what-ifs or regrets have us hesitate to smile with love upon the open skies ahead.


Hindsight is a weeping angel, a stampede that gets closer every time you look back at it, hoping to touch your mind and send you down your own pasts’ never-ending rabbit holes.


The pedestrians on each crux of your life’s choices can overrun your mind if you don’t use your right of way, right away;


Let each quantum intersection be part of the breeze you feel as you fly forward – let hindsight be a record of lessons learned, a pilot’s manual to guide you to a higher plane as you fly on. – RSM

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Seven Years Later

It all worked out, despite the odds.

It’s on me to keep the good going.

A setback or two has no place in my mind

cuz I crush those with one hand now, without even trying.

The strength gained from it all isn’t seen on the physical,

Rather a strong mind, soul, my ‘guns’ are metaphysical –

I love the love that I have, it’s a skill

that’s built through the storms of life, even still,

I know our lives are a painting or a novel unfinished

as we look back on our bad times when we felt diminished;

But trust me, my guy, my ‘rock bottom’ is a flex

Cuz I know the grit and grime it took to manifest

The present, past, future that rises each morning,

Seven years later I’m not just flying, I’m soaring. – RSM

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From Home to Home and Back

The last time I had a take-off from my hometown, I couldn’t even bare to take a look outside.

I’m glad I had the seat on the aisle,

cuz when I saw the city below

it was the hardest I had cried in a while.

 

I thought that it was more bitter than sweet

as I blinked and stared at the mini LCD TV in front of me.

I brought along with me a few extra pieces of emotional baggage that spun around the baggage-claim carousel carriage-

but when I picked them up after landing, I felt a lot less damaged.

 

I sorted through the feels,

and coiled up my memories running in my head on old school projector reels.

The second time back I felt settled, more whole, more ‘human’

To know I missed the place on Earth with my most loved humans.

This time around was a soul more sound residing in my physical frame when we touched down.

 

On the take-off back, with catharsis in mind,

I realized I was leaving home again, but going home too.

I looked out the window, and couldn’t find a reason to do anything, but smile. -RSM

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The Night Sky on Take Off

(Written August 8, 2018)

A perfect storm of clear skies make way for crystal clear streetlights

to dot the earth with grid shaped tattoos,

and if even if one or two blow a fuse, the pattern holds strong.

And all along the rising spiral off the runway

I’m reminded of how beautiful it is to fly. – RSM