POEM
- Tiger
- Colonel
- Posts: 2845
- Joined: 17 Jul 2007 00:17
- Location: Noblesville, Indiana, USA
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Re: POEM
I like it!hunter wrote:"THE PREY"
Inverted @ 7000,
Looking down, I saw the prey in the clearing,
his eyes,looking up trying to see,heart pumping in fear, Waiting for a break to run.
Then---- the dive begins... chopping throttle, sighting in, the trigger, the bang, the smoke,
then the gun got heavier, hotter, in the steep dive,as empty metal jackets pass under my stang wings and down on the green canvas of the meadow.
Then I seen and felt the heat of the melting metal
from a foot away as the cockpit glass shatters when I pass.
The wound in his neck rushes red
into the ground,
and his breath becomes asthmatic.
His eyes are two wet mirrors,
and I turn upward, making two second breaths to stay awake as I felt the pressing G's!
Ah....... but it was the sound, that shrill sound,
so frightful in its depth,as metal shredded across the land,
and echoed again and again
by the naked trees.
But neither flames nor
rivers of vodka could drown out the sound, of "AVG HUNTER"
SHOOTING YOUR ASS DOWN!!!
S!
- Trouble4u
- Lt. Colonel
- Posts: 1539
- Joined: 23 Oct 2007 09:07
- Location: Detroit, Michigan
- Contact:
- Razgriz_37
- Lt. Colonel
- Posts: 1446
- Joined: 30 Sep 2007 21:58
- Location: Cleveland, Oh
- Contact:
Re: POEM
lol Kickin' Arse
- Special K
- Captain
- Posts: 48
- Joined: 01 Aug 2007 18:00
Re: POEM
There goes the siren that warns of the air raid
Then comes the sound of the guns sending flak
Out for the scramble weve got to get airborne
Got to get up for the coming attack.
Jump in the cockpit and start up the engines
Remove all the wheelblocks theres no time to waste
Gathering speed as we head down the runway
Gotta get airborne before its too late.
Running, scrambling, flying
Rolling, turning, diving, going in again
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Run, live to fly, fly to live. aces high.
Move in to fire at the mainstream of bombers
Let off a sharp burst and then turn away
Roll over, spin round and come in behind them
Move to their blindsides and firing again.
Bandits at 8 oclock move in behind us
Ten me-109s out of the sun
Ascending and turning our spitfires to face them
Heading straight for them I press down my guns
Rolling, turning, diving
Rolling, turning, diving, going in again
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Run, live to fly, fly to live, aces high.
Then comes the sound of the guns sending flak
Out for the scramble weve got to get airborne
Got to get up for the coming attack.
Jump in the cockpit and start up the engines
Remove all the wheelblocks theres no time to waste
Gathering speed as we head down the runway
Gotta get airborne before its too late.
Running, scrambling, flying
Rolling, turning, diving, going in again
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Run, live to fly, fly to live. aces high.
Move in to fire at the mainstream of bombers
Let off a sharp burst and then turn away
Roll over, spin round and come in behind them
Move to their blindsides and firing again.
Bandits at 8 oclock move in behind us
Ten me-109s out of the sun
Ascending and turning our spitfires to face them
Heading straight for them I press down my guns
Rolling, turning, diving
Rolling, turning, diving, going in again
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die
Run, live to fly, fly to live, aces high.
- SNA2007
- Major
- Posts: 377
- Joined: 29 Oct 2007 21:53
Re: POEM
Being SNA2007
If only there were a plane that could handle me,
Then the ace of the sky I'd be.
For screaming dives I would fly,
And my wings would not go flying by.
And when an enemy is on my six,
I would be able to do some fancy tricks.
But, alas my plane cannot handle me;
And the wings depart the plane as you can plainly see.
As for tricks, I have none that I can report,
Just the other pilot hacks is my noob retort.
-SNA2007
Ode to the IL2 Complainer
I am a God's gift to aviation,
Dont believe me? Just pull up the scoreboard as I give you my salutation.
I am the greatest dofighter that ever lived,
Do I ever lose? Ha, you must kid!
I strut around my room wearing a bomber jacket and large sunglasses,
Pulling off the part of the great ace as planes fall from the sky with my passes.
But then the great pilot hits a rutt of luck,
As mom calls out that for dinner they are having roasted duck.
And in this brief moment,
The scoreboard isn't so permanent.
For a lone little plane has managed to get the upperhand,
And with a burst of the cannon, does our ace descend.
The hero is dead, what bullshit this is is obvious to see,
It obviously was not fair, otherwise dead he would not be.
This is an outrage! Our fair pilot exclaims,
Why don't you take me on fairly as he throws out names.
But our little fighter that could,
Putts away with a kill as he should.
And says only one thing to our defeated ace,
Next time you mess with AVG, you better pick up the pace.
If only there were a plane that could handle me,
Then the ace of the sky I'd be.
For screaming dives I would fly,
And my wings would not go flying by.
And when an enemy is on my six,
I would be able to do some fancy tricks.
But, alas my plane cannot handle me;
And the wings depart the plane as you can plainly see.
As for tricks, I have none that I can report,
Just the other pilot hacks is my noob retort.
-SNA2007
Ode to the IL2 Complainer
I am a God's gift to aviation,
Dont believe me? Just pull up the scoreboard as I give you my salutation.
I am the greatest dofighter that ever lived,
Do I ever lose? Ha, you must kid!
I strut around my room wearing a bomber jacket and large sunglasses,
Pulling off the part of the great ace as planes fall from the sky with my passes.
But then the great pilot hits a rutt of luck,
As mom calls out that for dinner they are having roasted duck.
And in this brief moment,
The scoreboard isn't so permanent.
For a lone little plane has managed to get the upperhand,
And with a burst of the cannon, does our ace descend.
The hero is dead, what bullshit this is is obvious to see,
It obviously was not fair, otherwise dead he would not be.
This is an outrage! Our fair pilot exclaims,
Why don't you take me on fairly as he throws out names.
But our little fighter that could,
Putts away with a kill as he should.
And says only one thing to our defeated ace,
Next time you mess with AVG, you better pick up the pace.
Major SNA2007
Squadron Training Officer
1st Pursuit Squadron, =AVG=
10% of military aviation is knowing what to do, how to do it, and how to do it while flying. 90% is all about learning how to look cool.
A smoking hole in the ground is a small price to pay for a bitchin' maneuver. -Maj Otero, USMC C-130 Pilot
Squadron Training Officer
1st Pursuit Squadron, =AVG=
10% of military aviation is knowing what to do, how to do it, and how to do it while flying. 90% is all about learning how to look cool.
A smoking hole in the ground is a small price to pay for a bitchin' maneuver. -Maj Otero, USMC C-130 Pilot
- SNA2007
- Major
- Posts: 377
- Joined: 29 Oct 2007 21:53
Re: POEM
The Mouse
There is a little mouse,
That inhabits our TS house.
And while adorable,
His microphone conduct is deplorable.
For just as the battle gets red hot,
Our little mouse just had a thought.
And share this thought he feels obligated,
As we fight to keep from being disentegrated.
And while our little mouse continues to squeak,
It is then our fear begins to peak.
And as enemey machine guns begin their death chant,
Our little mouse continues his rant.
We turn and weave unable to communicate,
Peforated with bullet holes our planes finally do disentegrate.
Demoralized and somewhat flustered we hit "refly"
Then a pause from the little mouse..."What did you all die?"
Heheh we love you razgriz99.
There is a little mouse,
That inhabits our TS house.
And while adorable,
His microphone conduct is deplorable.
For just as the battle gets red hot,
Our little mouse just had a thought.
And share this thought he feels obligated,
As we fight to keep from being disentegrated.
And while our little mouse continues to squeak,
It is then our fear begins to peak.
And as enemey machine guns begin their death chant,
Our little mouse continues his rant.
We turn and weave unable to communicate,
Peforated with bullet holes our planes finally do disentegrate.
Demoralized and somewhat flustered we hit "refly"
Then a pause from the little mouse..."What did you all die?"
Heheh we love you razgriz99.
Major SNA2007
Squadron Training Officer
1st Pursuit Squadron, =AVG=
10% of military aviation is knowing what to do, how to do it, and how to do it while flying. 90% is all about learning how to look cool.
A smoking hole in the ground is a small price to pay for a bitchin' maneuver. -Maj Otero, USMC C-130 Pilot
Squadron Training Officer
1st Pursuit Squadron, =AVG=
10% of military aviation is knowing what to do, how to do it, and how to do it while flying. 90% is all about learning how to look cool.
A smoking hole in the ground is a small price to pay for a bitchin' maneuver. -Maj Otero, USMC C-130 Pilot
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