A Traveler’s Triad

Published in Vistas & Byways

Flight

By Thomas O. Davenport

I sit here, angry, bored, depressed
I’d hoped that I’d be headed west

But now, I think, the gods of flight
Are sure to punish me tonight

The plane is full, I’m not alone
We’re all stuck here, inert as stone

We’re stranded now, or so we’re told
Because the air aloft’s too cold

This could cause an electric storm
Because the air down here’s too warm

I think that there’s a broken part
And so the plane just will not start

In truth, why did they make us wait?
Perhaps just this: the pilot’s late

It sometimes seems I’ll spend my life
Experiencing pain and strife

For airplane travel strains the heart
And stresses every body part

And yet, the time will come one day
I’ll shed this mortal coil away

On that day, when I’m heaven-bound
I’ll know, at last, I’m off the ground

Journeys to Nowhere

By Thomas O. Davenport

I ride astride a bike that has no wheel
A steed with peddles, I’ve been here awhile
No shortage in my effort or my zeal,
The monitor says I’ve gone just one mile

Perhaps I’ll now go trot on the treadmill
And pound its rubber pavement with my stride
Past windowed scenery that stays quite still
The best part? I won’t need to go outside

Ellipticals trace orbits in one place
Their endless ovoids helping me improve
No worry that I’ll ever lose the race
For knees pump up and down but I don’t move

I’ll pull the rower’s bar with my full might
To glide across the non-existent drink
No ocean, sea or lake within my sight
So I need never fear that I might sink

So come to my gym, you will see me there
On my kinetic journeys to nowhere
I think, for me, that this is the best news:
I never wear out any of my shoes

The Odyssey

By Thomas O. Davenport

Odysseus made quite a trip to Troy and back
But twenty years of hardship barely measure up
To one plane flight from San Francisco to the east
Six hours of pain endured within a flying beast

This ancient Greek with muscled men did labor long
To build a noble wooden horse, then climb inside
Three dozen stinky guys jammed tight, elbow to knee
I know how they felt, as I sit here in 12B

This horse was three or four times as big as real life
A mighty beast, of most impressive bulk and heft
About the size that lots of people try to shove
Into the tiny bins for carry-ons above

A years-long course the Greeks took back to Ithaca
They headed home with spoils and weapons they had gleaned
A many-dangered trip, it was not like a cruise
You have to wonder – how much baggage did they lose?

The cyclops pelted them with rocks of mountain size
He stared at them with one gigantic blood-shot eye
One has the same experience should one dare ask
About the chances of an upgrade to first class

With lotus fruit the hungry Greeks their stomachs filled
Their memories erased, the feast they soon forgot
Forget the last airline meal that I had to eat?
I wish I could: two almonds, cheese and chartreuse meat

‘Tween Scylla and Charybdis Grecian sailors steered
Heart-brave, avoiding death from monster and whirlpool
But grumpy flight attendants are a greater trial
They smack you with the cart each trip back down the aisle

We sailors are alike, work-weary travelers
Returning to greet spouses who remain behind
Those left at home to tend the hearth are heard to say:
“Nice odyssey, I’m sure, but what about my day?”

It sometimes seems I’ll spend my life
Experiencing pain and strife

For airplane travel strains the heart
And stresses every body part

And yet, the time will come one day
I’ll shed this mortal coil away

On that day, when I’m heaven-bound
I’ll know, at last, I’m off the ground