Poetry Break: “Let Me Tell You How I Died” – Dogfight

  Posted on July 23, 2021 By

 56 Comments

So… where were we with this poetry series?

Those of you who have followed me for awhile might recognize it. A few years back, I tapped into my rhyming writer origins and penned a big poem (consisting of a lot of smaller poems, really) about the various evil ways wars have ended innocent human lives. I enjoyed posting it in small installments, but then came 2020. Given all the challenges chucked at us, I didn’t have the heart to continue with it.

However, there are still a lot of segments left to share with you. Since I’m working on a new series all about WWI aviators, I couldn’t resist pulling this one out of my files and dusting it off. I do plan on sharing the rest of those poems at some later date too. I guess we’ll see how things go.

But until then, here’s a little piece of it, in the spirit of my upcoming articles:

LET ME TELL YOU HOW I DIED

PART II – SEGMENT 5

Dogfight

Flying high over the skies of France

The breeze makes the wires of my plane wings dance

Below me the world is indifferent and small

Makes me wonder why humans fight each other at all

The men in the mud are like tiny brown dots

The scratches of barbed wire look like harmless spots

But that isn’t so with the Archie blasts

They burst at my head, hope my plane lasts

Suddenly I hear the familiar sound

The sizzle of bullets – an enemy fighter inbound!

I rev up my engine and get into line

My wingman gives the signal, it’s our time to shine

The enemy planes barrel into our midst

It’s a game of kill or be killed, that’s the gist

I let out my bullets in a red-hot spray

The tracers glow, and add to the fray

Then a shot to my fuel tank, the smoke pours out

The flames erupt, burn hot, I give a shout

Burning alive is no way to die

So I grab my pistol, one shot, goodbye

To Be Continued…

Sky Photo by M.B. Henry – for more sky shots, click here. 

Next up on the WWI Aviator series – American Ace and “Balloon Buster” Frank Luke!

But first…

M.B. Henry On Hiatus! 

It’s been a very busy summer in our new home state of Indiana! Plus, things are picking up with my novel debut, now titled “All the Lights Above Us,” scheduled for release in May of 2022. Therefore, I need to take a short break from the website to get all my little writing duckies in a row. But I will be back after Labor Day to continue with the WWI Aviator Series, and to visit all of your lovely blogs. Until then – be safe out there! Keep in touch on Twitter and Instagram – Handle @mbhenry1985

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 Category: History

56 Comments on “Poetry Break: “Let Me Tell You How I Died” – Dogfight”

  6. M.B.,…this is amazing! Your words came to life in my mind. You have such a gift. I’m so blessed to read it! 🙌🏻💚

    Reply

      • You’re so welcome! I hope you are having a great start to your week, M.B. Sending you peace and hugs.

    • Thanks so much! Hope you’re doing well and enjoying the nice weather the last few days! 🙂

      Reply

      • Hi, MB. I was out on the trails this morning enjoying the cooler temps. Doesn’t feel like August at all. Hope your writing is going well. 😁

  9. Wonderful, MB – and great news about your novel! Well done!!! Whilst I know your evocative poem is about WW1, it reminded me of ‘High Flight’, written by a RCAF pilot, John Magee. You probably know it – ‘Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth’ – ending with, “…Put out my hand and touched the face of God.”

    Reply

    • Definitely have read High Flight – a very moving poem. Thanks for the reminder of it – with your mention I went and read it again. So good!

      Reply

    • Thanks Lee! 🙂 Can’t wait to catch up on your poetry when I can

      Reply

  12. This was great. I love your message in that poem. The message is so direct and personal. I could see the poor guy in the plane, and feel his agony. Thank you!

    Reply

  13. Your poetry is always moving. I am able to picture in my mind the scene you have written. I look forward September and the continuation of your series. Thank you for sharing your amazing talent with us.

    Reply

  14. So, my first attempt at a comment disappeared. Here goes. Your poetry is always moving. I can picture the scene you create. This one is amazing. Thank you for sharing your talent with us. I look forward to September and more of this series!

    Reply

  18. Enjoy your time away — I know you’ll be productive. And thanks for letting us know what you’re up to. Disappearing bloggers can be a worry!

    Reply

    • Definitely trying to be productive despite a very busy summer! 🙂

      Reply

  20. Writing a novel is such a big thing AND getting published is a wow MB. When did you start writing the book? Hoping for success ❤

    Reply

    • Yep! It’s all out of my hands now which is both a relief and terrifying 🙂 🙂

      Reply

  23. Sorry I missed this earlier, M.B.! I’m so excited about your novel – can’t wait for a copy. I look forward to more of your poem.

    Reply

    • Yes they did such a good job on that cover! It blew me away when I first saw it 🙂 🙂

      Reply

  25. impressive poem MB! Checked out your novel link, great cover and summary … I know it will be well written like all your posts … congrats!

    Reply

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Theme: Women's History Month
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Quotes of the Week

“I do not mean to say that the scenes of the Revolution are now or ever will be entirely forgotten, but that, like everything else, they must fade upon the memory of the world, and grow more and more dim by the lapse of time. In history, we hope, they will be read of, and recounted, so long as the Bible shall be read; but even granting that they will, their influence cannot be what it heretofore has been. Even then they cannot be so universally known nor so vividly felt as they were by the generation just gone to rest. At the close of that struggle, nearly every adult male had been a participator in some of its scenes. The consequence was that of those scenes, in the form of a husband, a father, a son, or a brother, a living history was to be found in every family – a history bearing the indubitable testimonies of its own authenticity, in the limbs mangled, in the scars of wounds received, in the midst of the very scenes related – a history, too, that could be read and understood alike by all, the wise and the ignorant, the learned and the unlearned. But those histories are gone. They can be read no more forever. They were a fortress of strength; but what invading foreman could never do, the silent artillery of time has done – the leveling of its walls. They are gone. They were a forest of giant oaks; but the all-restless hurricane has swept over them, and left only here and there a lonely trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn of its foliage, unshading and unshaded, to murmur in a few more gentle breezes, and to combat with its mutilated limbs a few more ruder storms, then to sink and be no more. They were pillars of the temple of liberty; and now that they have crumbled away that temple must fall unless we, their descendants, supply their places with other pillars, hewn from the solid quarry of sober reason.”
-Abraham Lincoln

M.B. HENRY

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