# April Challenge -- "Flying"



## candid petunia (Apr 4, 2013)

The theme for the April Challenge suggested by *toddm *is *"Flying"*.



Remember that you may approach the subject in whatever way you wish, though of course site rules apply. If you are unsure of the challenge rules please read the 'stickies' at the top of the board.


This challenge will close on the 19th April 2013.


You are allowed a 5-minute grace period to edit your entries for formatting or typos. Anything edited after that may result in the entry being excluded from the challenge.


Members posting in the *Workshop thread* to protect their first rights must copy their link in this thread, or else it will be discounted.

*Do not post comments in this thread. It would also be greatly appreciated if everyone would refrain from using the "like" function until the challenge is closed and the poll is opened. Any comments on submissions prior to the close of the challenge should be posted in the Bards' Bistro. 

*​Thank you for your cooperation.


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## Ethan (Apr 5, 2013)

Higher and ever higher,
arms outstretched embracing the wind,
I am held in ecstasy.
Head thrown back, eyes closed,
my fingers splay, spilling turbulence,
as I embrace each joyous spiral.
Far below the tendrils of cloud
let slip their jealous hold,
as I, like Icarus,
suspend disbelief,
to soar with Eagles.


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## Inchidoney (Apr 6, 2013)

Flying,
==========================​I dreamt a dream where I could fly,
I really really, don’t know why.
High above within the clouds,
Down below me, all the crowds. 
Watching as I soared on high,
I wondered why, they didn’t try. 

I bought a kite that I could fly,
Let it soar high in the sky.
Twisting, turning, high above,
I imagined it to be a dove.
Finally my kite broke loose,
Was it because of my misuse?

I made my children a pair of wings,
From feathers removed, from pure white ducklings. 
Oh how the hillside rung with laughter,
As my children ran around and floundered. 
Playing on the hillside fully feathered,
I long for them to remain unfettered. 

I wonder if I shall ever fly,
Among the clouds ,an eagle high.
Shall my children wonder why,
I didn’t teach them how to fly?
Remember me when I am gone, 
As the one who didn’t teach them, how to fly.


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## Lewdog (Apr 9, 2013)

*"Fight or Flight" - *http://www.writingforums.com/poetry...37980-april-challenge-flying.html#post1620738


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## Travers (Apr 10, 2013)

*A Flight of Birth*

A single gust of wind 
blows free the chuted seed,
and from the clock rescind
fruit of the dandy weed.
Dispersed into the air,
in flight without conceit,
set at last to ground, where
the cycle can complete.


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## tabasco5 (Apr 11, 2013)

If I called it flying I'd be lying,
it's more like floating off the ground.
Far away in the stratosphere I thought I saw my body.
It's really just here beside me not standing on the ground.
It was up there I thought I knew.
I couldn't see it in the fog.
Perhaps it was just the haze.
Perhaps it was the light.
After all the flying fell short.
It wasn't what I thought.
For all of history and those that tried,
I succeeded, but I lied.


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## Gumby (Apr 11, 2013)

*Gliding Thermals

*You are Kelvin, holding
to your absolutes.
A windswept plateau
too stubborn to yield,
you stand in eroded glory;
revealed
the implacable nature
of your heart.

And I, Fahrenheit’s child,
cling to the familiar
highs and lows, ride
your thermal current flows
and know,
I’m but a beat, a breath away
from the fall.


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## toddm (Apr 11, 2013)

*White dove fallen from a blue sky*

You flew wondrously high, like Icarus of old,
with wings fluttering in white-golden light,
small eyes sparkling and intent on your course.

Did you expect in your ardor to survive the vision
of the heavens and earth at the coruscating horizon, 
to fly faster and farther to a more blessëd height?

O! Did you cross the far threshold into the starry expanse
and greet Boötes and Orion, and perchance venture on
before swooning in ecstasy and tumbling back to Earth?

In the end you found repose upon withered grasses,
your eyes yet sparkling with the secret joys
they beheld at the last fluttering of your wings.


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## Ariel (Apr 13, 2013)

*Wings*

Poor delicate heart
has no wings to fly.
Bruised, broken, bloodied
tiny thing--still it tries.
Stubborn, trusting, stupid
thing never will learn--
love only feels like flight
'til it's crashed and burned.


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## writersblock (Apr 14, 2013)

*Flying high*

the prick on the skin is akin to a sting from a bee
yet the pain goes unnoticed
the needle slips in like sword into a sheath
its familiar

his heart skips a beat in fervor
beads of sweat cover every pore
as a drop of blood balloons to the fore
he is ready

with a steady unflinching thumb
he pushes the syringe all the way
like a race driver leans on the throttle
he is accelerating

the rush of the opiate coursing through his veins
jerks him back into his chair like a rag doll
as he shuts his eyes
he is flying

the ills of his existence turn into a blur
his worst demons morph into his better saints
as he floats in weightless bliss
he is cruising

as always this ecstasy does not last
and soon he is tumbling back to his hell
as the jagged rocks of his reality fast approach
he is falling

he wishes he could turn this world upside down
just so he could fly into infinite splendour
but with that fleeting thought
he is crashing....


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## Kevin (Apr 14, 2013)

*the 'flier'*

I’m sad to report
that ‘lef-tenant’ Andersen 
did not return from her last mission.
She never stated exactly what it was.
I saw her starting as a fellow flier.
We drank and smoked together,
but as I lost my teen age,
I could no longer see the point;
she stayed the course.
I tried to warn her that 
our engines simply would not handle it.
She insisted on higher octanes,
going for the rockets fuels.
‘I love the vibrations,’ she said.
‘They will kill you,’ I said,
and lost sight of her 
so many years ago.
She was a beauty
in her scarf and boots.


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## Fats Velvet (Apr 16, 2013)

*Flung:* http://www.writingforums.com/poetry...37980-april-challenge-flying.html#post1622866


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## alanmt (Apr 17, 2013)

*Flying into Love

*And we became friends.
And began a complicated dance
of opening up
and pulling back
and flirting
and pretending 
that we only liked each other as friends
as we were flying into love
which was obvious
to everyone
who saw us together.


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## Chesters Daughter (Apr 18, 2013)

*Time Never Flies for the Festering*

The arthritic sweep
of Father's hands
as they come full circle
is seemingly slower
than a sluggish slug's slide
from the Big Apple to Orange.

His buckled digits brake
at sixty rest stops
(don't snooze and you lose)
while Mr. Slug slimes
just over three-fourths of a state.

And that, my friends,
describes a minute long
s-t-r-e-t-c-h
on the plane of pain.

I'm on constant stand-by
hoping for a seat 
on a more accommodating airline,
but with my frequent flyer miles 
long exhausted,
I'm laughed to the back 
of the line.

And what's good enough
for Kirk, the Transporter King,
is apparently too good for me;
Priceline ignored my inquiry.

Quite understandable, of course,
putrescence comes equipped
with a whole heap of baggage.

Perhaps a barter to escape
this neither here nor there
fuselage of misery:

all my limbs
for a parachute 
and a hot air balloon


which way is Nirvana?


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## candid petunia (Apr 19, 2013)

cherubic heartbeats
flying out of my reach
before even born​


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## candid petunia (Apr 20, 2013)

This challenge is now closed. Please proceed to the *voting thread* to cast your votes.


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