I am as failed as any
mechanical falcon
littering sidewalks of the galaxy
like abandoned e-scooters
I cannot hear the falconer
in my push-to-talk
phone app
things fell apart
no air in cold space
I swoop
without guile, gyre,
crashing onto the globe
where you remind me
I am balsa and rubber
a thing of this world
where you rewind my
rubber band propeller
soft hands on my wings
launch me back
towards the sky
For Shay’s Word Garden and TSM
I love the nod to the Yeats poem…….love the whole poem, especially the closing lines. Wonderful!
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Thank you!!!
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I was addicted to the balsa and rubber when I was young. 🙂
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Me too! Right?
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Love the little hints of “the second coming” throughout. I kept thinking of that poem too because of the words “falcon” and “gyre” on the list. But apart from that, I love this poem as a whole. It starts so galactical and moves into the simplicity of a model plane. It’s wonderful.
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Thank you!!
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What rough beast, its time come ’round at last, would think to combine Yeats and a phone app?! Like Jo, I love how you start out with NASA, basically, and end up in the back yard, a crashed glider. The tenderness of the ending touched me. The contrast of the beginning and ending put me in mind of Alice being asked who she is and she says she’s Alice–“at least that’s who I was this morning, but I seem to have changed several times since then.” To have someone who cares to put us right when we’ve fallen is about a fine a thing as there is.
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“What rough beast, its time come ’round at last, would think to combine Yeats and a phone app?!” Wahahaha! I knew you would like that!
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An excavation of the forgotten.
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The repair of malfunction is poignant to the return to earth. Hope we can really clean up our messes.
Happy Sunday qbit
Thanks for dropping by my blog
Much💜love
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There are days Bend is littered with abandoned ‘blue bikes’ Portland foisted on us. They need to go back. Your magic way with words shines brightly here … the airplanes resurrected wonderful memories of three little boys 4, 5 & 6 flying / crashing them.
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Oh yes. That is so great.
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I love the vulnerable feel of humanity this holds Qbit and launch me back towards the sky is truly stellar!!
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Thank you!!
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I’m glad the mechanical falcon is repaired or reprogrammed. I have two mechanical monkeys, they are perfect on multiplication and division.
One sits beside my Dick Tracy Camera on the upstairs bookcase.
https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2010/09/flashback-friday-9-my-boyhood-toys.html
..
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Very cool!
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Soaring back, to times spent using my imagination are rare. Thank you for flying me there. A wonderful combination of today and yesterday.
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I like this very much as a love poem. How beautiful.
I think soft hands are a rare piece of art, speaking metaphorically. And isn’t that saying something if one can make another feel less made of metal and brokenness and more of bend and nature?
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Yes, exactly.
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