This Is Your Captain Speaking

Running low on inspiration these days, so going to push some of my favorite poetry (all written by fellow poets and friends) through this blog hoping that the occasional stumbler enjoys it.

This Is Your Captain Speaking / by Sarku
(All rights reserved with the author, published with permission)

From far off over the porcelain wing

I see another midnight atmospheric sojourner.

The blinking eyelights of both steel birds wink across the blank air between them;

Empty miles leap between us, I and some unknown compatriot borne aloft in that other dreaming sky-barque.

Gold geometries of noctilucent netting spangle across the distant lightless prairie floor

(We sojourn in the dark subterranean kingdoms of the satrap of the preterite dead,

Where the whisper of cabin pressure is the only utterance)

Just beyond the arc of vision there are stars, a chorus of pinbright crystal distants, muy tranquilo.

Below now, I note, the voidfloor with its jellyfish townglowings has fallen away;

Only a rural will-o'-the-wisp suggests the half-real planet below.

A voice breaks into the shadowed gallery of my steel bird;

An intercom interloper, he is a novitiate in night musings (though a hierophant of chill levers and dials)

He does not know the solemn vigil he trespasses on

(As the vulture, a little padre, black canon of the plains does not know the dream of repose that he plucks apart;

As the foolish Greek does not know the dream of Sebak he ripples with his hand at the still jade pond beyond Sais)

Nor should he, indeed.

What is such an aeronaut's place in the twilit canyons and blue kivas of dreams?

Let him keep his eyes on the skyroads;

For my part I rove astral-bodied-

The night is vast, broad, and empty as sable.