Thursday, 22 July 2010
We arrive at around 9.30 and join the queue to gain entrance to the grounds, a strange welcoming emits from the buildings; drawing you in and making you feel safe. We park; unload what we need and head for the stalls and breakfast. Monuments on either side stand proudly; testaments to their legends, to one side are small aircraft, all lined up; each one shining clearly in the morning sun. It still astounds me each time I visit the amazing sense of time this place have, no matter what year it may be, it will never loose that wartime feeling; I must say Glen Miller does help matters. I look at the row of planes and this is what I see.
There are groups of planes on the ground, mechanics are working at their respective planes, the pilots are sitting by the huts; waiting, waiting for that siren, the siren that will once again take them up into the skies. Some are playing cards or reading, others writing that letter home, they have been meaning to do for a while, some are just sleeping. There is silence, accept that of the wind through the trees, or the sounds of footsteps of the airfield personnel. The phone rings, ears and eyes turn to the hut. “SCRAMBLE SCRAMBLE, SCRAMBLE” the captain shouts, the pilots run to their planes, the sound of silence is broken by the claxon screams and the roar of a squadron of Rolls Royce Merlin engines. Orders are being screamed from plane to plane; the hood goes down; and they’re off. The control tower becomes a hive of activity, information is passed from all corners of the airfield, the airspeed climbs as they leave the runway; in this moment both aircraft and pilot merge into one. It has always been said that flying a Spitfire was an easy job. After numerous bullets are used and dog fighting skills put to the test, the weary planes and pilots return back to the silence of RAF Duxford.
And then it’s gone and the modern day returns around me, the hustle and bustle of an airshow day. ‘Moonlight Serenade’ is playing over the speaker system; I know that 1940 can’t be too far away.
It’s not scary anymore
Not now the vampires have found the glitter.
It’s an obsession for some believe they are real
Leaving a window open for the undead dream
To sweep them off their feet.
But who would want to sleep with a cold marble man?
The Werewolf is a strange beast,
As old as its cold foe.
Even this has become soft, a children’s toy as it were.
Gone is the swipe or cut
For the dreaded curse to take effect.
A piercing howl no longer frightens me
The lure is there
No matter how hard I try to ignore.
The dream of perfection blended with a supernatural beau.
As for me … I’d be a wolf.
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
He should be able to make me laugh
When all I want to do is cry.
Indulge my love of penguins
And of Johnny Depp
Let me rant and moan about my troubles and strife,
Then hold my hand as I work them through.
Tell me to be quiet when, I start to ramble.
Share the dream of the future; the round house
In all its glory.
To love dancing in the rain, even better if it’s a storm.
Make perfect pancakes, and own a VW Campervan (1967)
Tell me I’m beautiful but not too often.
Promise me forever.
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
With so many years of war and strife
Tears and heart ache,
The years of death.
Seeing the last veterans today
I felt pride
Like I’ve never felt before
Those men are heroes
They deserve a deep respect from people all around the world
I know for one they have my deep thanks,
But nothing covers the debt.
I wonder when current world events end
Will the men and women get the same respect?
With all my heart I hope they do.
Monday, 19 July 2010
Send wishes to distant galaxies
Do you ever hope that the moon can hear your thoughts?
To take that dream you carry in your heart
And make it come true.
Do you wish that the one for you
Knows that you are sleepless this night
Can hear your hearts desire
And can feel the pain of loneliness you carry
Do you hope that the one for you
Would tell you they love you
Show you that they care
And promise they will love you forever
Do you dream of this person?
Wishing, hoping, yearning
They will come into your life
And take you away from the despair
I have started to grow again
I refuse to be a lapdog
I am not to be used or ignored
I have my friends and my family
I don’t know where I’m going
To be honest, I don’t care
Coming out of a month of uncertainty
Time feels like it is now moving again
I can feel myself release the old life
Saying goodbye to that part of myself
I like this feeling of peace
The tears have stopped
Loneliness is still there but I think it always will
Feeling free in myself
Something I wouldn’t trade with anyone
My life has begun again
The endless rows of white stones
Towering lists of names carved into time
A central memorial
Looks out over green fields
A blank stone with 4 lonely words
‘Known only unto god’
A family without closure
A soul with no name
It’s hard to think that the battlefields of
Are now lush farmland
The horrors of war
Merely ploughed away
I have never seen these sights
It would break my heart to do so
Just hearing the tales that come from the trenches
Makes my blood run cold
When I think of you I feel no hatred or anger,
When I think of you I see no future
Only a long past
When I think of you I know I done what I had to
What was necessary for me.
When I think of you I can’t get mad
It’s not something I’m proud about.
I don’t like to cause pain
When I think of you I feel nothing
A numbness filling my soul
When I think of you I feel angry
When I think of you I feel a shadow of an feeling
When I think of you I feel used, old.
You will probably never know how much
You have hurt me over the years
Yet never know how much I could love you
Part of me wants to cause pain
I can’t do that
I hope it is a long time before I look upon your face again
One day we will be able to be a friend to each other.