Puddle Jump Poetry

I often enjoy reading “cowboy poetry”.  It’s down homey stuff that is usually written by common old cowboys who have a sense of humor and a poetic mind set.  I always look forward to the short articles in the newspaper submitted by Baxter Black.

But cowboy poetry is no longer just a few literary type punchers here and there, it’s become a whole society of practitioners!  They even have conventions!

Waal, I ain’t no cowboy in the traditional sense.  I can ride a horse, and if’n my lower anatomy was conditioned properly, I like nothin’ better than a good hard cross country ride.  But I don’t claim to be any more than a drugstore cowboy. The boots pinch my toes, and the hat never fits right; it feels more like an umbrella on my head than a hat.

Except for one thing.  I have come to the conclusion that the swashbuckling cowboy of the twentieth and the twenty-first century is the aviator.  Look at Charles Lindbergh, Jimmy Dolittle, Roscoe Turner, Howard Hughes, Baron Von Richhoffen, Eddie Rickenbacker, Chuch Yeager, Burt Rutan, John Glenn, Orville and Wilbur Wright.  Hey, if these guys aren’t real cowboys at heart, then there ain’t nobody that is!

So I think it’s time that these aviator cowboys have their own cowboy aviator poetry society.  I’ll arbitrarily dub it as “Puddle Jump Poetry”.  Doesn’t sound very romantic, does it?  Well, the only aviation poetry I’ve seen so far is just “romantic poetry”.  Quotes such as “I seek the lofty skies with able silver wings and soar…..”  Arrgg!  That stuff is too high brow and too stuffy for me.  I want down home stuff just like the actual cowboy poet stuff.  So that’s why I pick the humble “Puddle Jump Poetry”.  It should come from aviators who simply love to get out there and fly for the pure sake of flying, even if it’s just jumping across a small fishing pond or something.  Aviators do have their own form of a society, by the way.  You can find them hanging around the coffee pot at just about any country airport.  They probably each have a unique story or experience that could be put in verse.  I sure do, and I’m going to share a couple of them in this blog.  I have several more that I’ll share at times in future blogs.  Here’s some examples, and I’ll try to explain the basis and background for each:

Without a doubt, the most memorable and exciting event in an aviator’s life is the first landing and his first solo flight.  It is an experience that can never be repeated, because there is only one first time.  Many aviators, such as myself, had dreamed for as long as I could remember to learn how to fly.  This verse illustrates these emotions:

“My First Landing”         By Bernard Ray Tillery

As far back as to remember

I’d carried a dream so deep down,

to take to air and soar over the ground.

I read all the books and magazines so fine

that showed planes and pilots through out all time.

A throb I would hear on up high

found my sight reaching for the sky.

My young mind wandered and thoughts would dwell

of taking her off and setting her down swell.

But one day came as I did always yearn

to give it a shot and come down to learn.

My hand on yoke and throttle to squeeze

to touch her down after treading the breeze.

She bounced a little but not too bad

I let out a holler! Boy, was I glad!

I’m now a pilot, I just can’t believe!

What a wonder it is to love and conceive!

Much of the puddle jump poetry I have written has to do with various experiences I have had in my flying career.  I have written on events of poor judgement.  I have recalled heart felt  memories such as the “My First Landing” shown above.  I also get into situations that can make flying interesting, and demonstrate the importance of good emergency training as shown below:

 

“Emergency Landing Procedure”    By Bernard Ray Tillery

Oh, such peace at hand as I fly along

above the world below feels so strong.

Such a pleasure early man could only hope

to join the birds and even more we cope.

It’s all so grand, can one believe our luck?

To challenge cloud on high and not be stuck.

But wait! A stutter, a chatter, and then she quits!

I’m up here alone and she won’t spit!

What was once all peace has now become

a time to panic and a time to run!

Emergency landing procedure to keep my sense,

use your training to lower suspense.

Best rate of glide, then pick a spot

to land this thing, not crash too hot.

Call out Mayday! Check gas and heat,

keep my cool, pretend all’s neat.

To the ground and hope she don’t flop,

she bounces and trembles and finally stops.

Solid ground’s the best it can be,

the plane’s not hurt that I can see.

I touch her and thank her I’m on the ground,

but scold her severely for taking me down.

Was there something I did that I forgot,

something ignored or thought of not?

To cause her to quit and stall and die

just at a time when I expect her to fly?

Emergency landing procedure we check off our list

to pass our check ride the examiner insists.

But sometimes the rules have rhyme and reason,

to make sure we can fly from season to season.

 

Believe me; things can and do happen at moments least expected.  The aviator who comes through such events did so by good training and keeping his cool.

I plan to keep on writing “puddle jump poety”.  I’ve send out other stuff I’ve done as time goes by.  My hope is that other’s who love aviation, whether they themselves fly or not, will join the fun.  I think it would be great to have an aviator’s poet society!

 

 

Common Boys

I’m certain I am not alone among baby boomers in regard to  perspectives involving our experiences during the Viet Nam War era.  To say the least, those events impacted heavily on each of us in many varied ways.

Most of us grew up among elders who answered the call to duty in the recent world-wide conflict.  It would be difficult to ignore the same calling in their presence, even as skepticism regarding the current venture began to surface. This would be the outlook of many of us who felt compelled to respond.  Of course, many of us were “encouraged” to answer the call regardless of our personal wishes.

In today’s international events, questions often arise regarding the decisions of leadership.  However, general high regard for those who participate in their endeavors (the military) is prevalent.  Those of us who hesitated to don our uniforms in public during the Viet Nam conflict are heartened by the demonstrations of appreciation provided in airports and other public places for members of the military.  For myself, an obscure sense of loss lies just below the surface as I think back of those times.

Those times for us are in the past.  What was done is done.  Scars remain on healed hearts.  We honor those who did not return, but wistfully hope their sacrifice had allowed for them a degree of recompense.  Perhaps we are seeking to assuage our own personal guilt that it was them and not us.

In any case, the experience of those times shall color our life outlook until our last day.  All shall fall under the category of who and what it is to be a “Common Boy”.

Please consider the following verse that attempts, in a few short statements, to incapsulate the heart of a generation:

“Common Boys”
By Bernard Ray Tillery

Two boys were born three months apart,

They lived across the street.

Bikes or bats or salting bird’s tails,

Common boy’s dreams complete.

Safe from battle and war they be,

Their dad’s beat back the sting

And smacked those rats of East and West

Who would kill freedom’s ring.

One boy learns to fly, one to march,

As many question why.

A place far west and south of Home,

Common boys fight and die.

But it’s over now and in the books,

A black stone to remind

One boy recalls before that stone

Common boy left behind.

 

 

 

The Time Bridge Series

 

“The Time Bridge Project”; the first of my “Time Bridge Series”

I plan to soon begin the publish process through Amazon my first work of science fiction of the “Time Bridge Series”.  The title of this piece is “The Time Bridge Project”.

Most science fiction work regarding some type of space travel involves the use of some type of magical method of circumventing the overwhelming distances of space between planets and other scenes of adventure.  Concepts of warp drive, space transfer gates, and so on prevail in imaginary space travel.

I take issue with such concepts.  In my opinion, the reality of space travel to other stars can only be accomplished by the use of time.  I call it a “time bridge”.  In order to travel to distant star systems in our galaxy, the traveler must commit to seemingly overwhelming intervals of time.  In other words, if one wishes to visit another planet located 500 light years away, then he must travel at sub-light speed for hundreds of years to get there.  Of course that obviates the need for suspension of human life forms for great periods of time.  Hence, the time bridge.  In order to travel to distant locations light years away, the bridge available will be the use of time.

Thus, the premise of my first piece of this science fiction series is the use of the time bridge for space travel.

The planet Zumaria is an earth-like planet located many thousands of light years distance from our home here on Earth.  Zumaria’s humanoid like society has developed a robust solar system wide economy similar to that we here on Earth would visualize for our future.  This society has determined to become occupants of the entire Galaxy.  Zumaria shall send fleets of interstellar vessels destined for planets throughout the Galaxy in attempts to colonize those planets.  Using the concept of the time bridge, it is anticipated these colonies shall be conceived many thousands of years in the future.

All this activity occurs many thousands of years in our past as early humanity establishes itself here on Earth.  One or more of the Zumarian colony vessels is destined for Earth.  They establish themselves on Earth at a time that is early in the establishment of mankind here on our home.

So it begins.