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Mike Klumpp

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Member Since: Sep, 2005

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Toby Ryker
by Steven Ulmen

Toby Ryker, a colorful, likable old mountain man and lord-knows-what-all, moseys into the western town of Laramie and stirs up a saloon brawl just for the fun of it then ..  
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Bo flies a plane-
by Mike Klumpp
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Bo flies a plane-

take it up to 10,000 feet and dive in on a 20 degree angle from the northeast
flack suppressers in place coming around from the northwest A6�s coming in south to north
with 200 pound loads riding 1,000 pounds pressure 160 over 90 pulse vibrates
wheels wobble wings sing we are pointed at heaven to dive into hell up into black bursts of fire
too thick too full man made turbulence young johnny breaks out at 9,000 feet
and begins a descent into St. Elmo�s fire of tracers seen from the machine-gun sight
�it don�t look good, but i ain�t going alone� - really, just like in the movies - so he locks
young johnny locks his jaw his sights his heart on some bridge surrounded by the swirl of
life and fire and aircraft a swarm of insanity descending on the dead bridge connecting
jungle to jungle which cost crew after crew (thousands of dollars to build and millions to destroy)
Pickle! er-der-twa- cot 20 degrees right on uhoh! an F4 almost whew! out pulling 10G�s
w/out passing out can�t believe i made it find someone �hey - let�s be gone� gone- five days later-
it is two spans gone, it is a distinguished flying cross- it is war and there is a pontoon bridge down the block- na nana nana na! (raspberry) no one wins.

Bo flies a plane-
my brother
�a fine line between a hero and a fool�
the accident of genius
of the heart which is cold in vengeance
- i will not go alone -
blood pressure 210 over 115
medals in a trunk
eyes say �let�s don�t bring up the war�
for over 20 years
Bo flies a plane-
and i look at him
like Hitler looks upon his gigantic golden sculptures
which decorate the fascist mentality
with the opium of power
the delusion of man
full of strength
able to leap high mountain
to bring down the pillars of the temple
- i will not go alone -
and i am filled with the sense of standing
at the Wurtenburg Tur
the conqueror looking upon his champion
all Berlin behind me
all the world before me

Bo flies a plane-
and the narcotic of heroes begins to surge through me
the back of my neck bristles
i hear my flesh and blood brother
describe events too magnanimous for mortals to imagine
the heart sings
standards raised
i am marching with young johnny

Bo flies a plane-
God - he is a hero
William F.
he is a hero to me
he ever was
he ever will be
i have no idea when he dove out of that
black sky for me
i do not know when he came to my rescue
whether as a child
when he stood against enemies
or between drunken parents
or before You begging for my salvation
he would not go alone
with some energy mortals will never

Bo flies a plane-
unless you have known a hero
unless the lone ranger has descended on your behalf
you cannot understand the awe

Bo flies a plane-
and this of all poems is personal
but will be read aloud

Bo flies a plane-
for all the brothers who died
on that same futile bridge
between hell and hell
over the river Styx
who would not go alone
one hero
in memory of many
to help us forget the other fools
one champion
to help us breath deep
to be free from our toil
to stand in victory for even a moment
as the shrouded mist of glory disappears

Bo flies a plane-
and will not go alone

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