The Puppeteer

2m34wfs

My life, it seems, is not my own.
This freedom-thing is overblown.
You may not realise you’re the same.
You see, it’s all a little game.

I feel just like a marionette:
So pull one string, I pirouette.
Pull another, just for fun,
I break into a steady run.

You may think this is quite amusing
But it’s you that I’m accusing.
Every time my telephone rings,
I have to stop doing other things.

And every time that I get emailed,
Texted, tweeted, I am derailed.
So, dear Reader, never fear.
It’s you! You are my Puppeteer!

Stephen Tomkins
3 June 2014

The Airbus Rap

By Stephen Tomkins
29 March 2014

IMG_0234

For those who don’t speak chic Français,
My footnotes might help ease the way!

Yo! You fools! I’m Stevie T!
I’ve got a message so listen to me!
That Boeing Crew just gives us crap,
That’s why I made “The Airbus Rap”.

They seem to think they’re the only ones
Who can fly a plane – they’re all Top Guns!
We Airbus guys, though, know the truth.
We’ve done our testing, got the proof!

With trusty sidestick at my side,
That Normal Law[1] gives one sweet ride.
We’re autothrusting up and down,
Trimming’s[2] for fools! You crazy clowns!

Triple Click[3]! Triple Click! Yeah! What I say!
A Cavalry Charge[4] and I’m away!
With autopilot now disconnected,
My flying skills are resurrected.

Wrestling Fifi[5]? No! No! No!
You’ll come unstuck, that’s not the go!
With sweet caress, you’ve got to treat her.
Trust me now – not trying to preach ya!

Airbus loves its acronyms
So learn them all or you’ll seem dim.
The AADs[6] the place to start;
Get moving now and learn them by heart!

Sometimes Airbus can be unkind
But don’t you pay it any mind.
She says some things I won’t repeat
As wheels and runway gently meet.

The Boeing guys still seem to grapple
With Fly By Wire stuff made by Apple,
And even though that’s not quite right,
The concept still gives them a fright.

They see our flight deck, start to frown
But who would want it painted brown[7]?
We eat our meals off sliding tables[8].
Our flight controls don’t need no cables!

By FMAs[9], we live and die.
Without them, Fifi wouldn’t fly.
A daily litany of them we pray;
It’s another language! No cliché!

Which brings me to my favourite part
(And that includes cool autostart!)
By phase of flight she changes screens!
I’ve yet to find out what that means!

Mon Dieu! I can’t believe the time!
To go on so long! It’s just a crime!
By Airbus cleverness, we’re inspired!
We hope by now, you’re not too tired.

You Boeing dudes are still our friends
And here’s how you can make amends:
Stop talking ‘bout your moving sticks[10]
Defect to Airbus! Quick! Quick! Quick!

To those who’ve not yet seen the light:
Give ‘Bus a go, it’s quite alright!

[1] The normal operating system for Airbus Fly By Wire (FBW) flight controls.
[2] Manual trimming of the elevators (when in manual flight) is required on Boeing but done automatically on Airbus.
[3] The warning sound made when a flight mode changes automatically to a more basic mode.
[4] The warning sound made when the autopilot disengages.
[5] An affectionate (?) name given to Airbus aircraft.
[6] AAD is an acronym for Airbus Abbreviation Dictionary – 91 pages of funky acronyms!
[7] Boeing flight decks were, for some time, painted in “pleasing tones of brown” while Airbus flight decks are grey.
[8] Airbus aircraft have retractable tables in front of the pilots, made possible by the absence of large control columns (which Boeing retains) between the pilots’ legs.
[9] FMA is an acronym for Flight Mode Annunciator/Annunciation
[10] Moving thrust levers (when autothrottle/autothrust is engaged) is a major and contentious point of difference between the two manufacturers.

Oh! It’s Great To Have A Job!

jump_on_water_by_anupjkat

Oh! It’s great to have a job!
Glad I’m not some lazy slob
Who sits around to whinge and sob!
It’s great to have a job!

Leap from bed to heavy clock rock!
Air guitar, my darling wife’s shocked!
Verbally, at me she throws rocks!
Great to have a job!

Pirouette around the room!
Rip curtains open! Banish gloom!
If looks could kill, I’d be entombed!
It’s great to have a job!

At the bus stop, spread my cheer!
Finally, did my bus appear!
Sadly watch it disappear:
Clearly, it was full!

On the bus, they cough and sneeze,
Blithely spreading their disease!
Make-up, Facebook and PC’s!
Great to have a job!

At last, I make it late to work!
My new boss can be a jerk:
Attacks me like it’s his one perk!
Great to have a job!

Catch my breath, get PC going!
Email inbox overflowing!
It’s clear to lunch I won’t be going!
Great to have a job!

Payday’s here! I’ve cash in hand!
Taxman comes with his demand!
Super, health fund, mortgage. Grand!
Great to have a job!

At the meeting, I am chilled!
Half the workforce will be spilled!
Vacancies will not be filled!
It’s great to have a job!

Years to go yet on my pay freeze!
Working hours now set to increase!
Boss’s bonuses: Oh yes please!
Great to have a job!

Client wants delivery Monday!
Guess where I’ll be going Sunday!
So much for the family funday!
Hope I’ll keep my job!

Now, my replacement I am training!
While outside it’s surely raining!
They tell me to stop complaining!
Once I had a job!

Now at Vinnie’s volunteering!
And at Maccas tables clearing!
My life’s savings disappearing!
Wish I had a job!

Stephen Tomkins
11 November 2014

Mosaic

antonioorsoni

Painstakingly picking up colourful shards,
Inspecting, selecting, rejecting discards,
The artist methodically adds a piece here:
An image mosaic begins to appear.

Each piece on its own is a part of the story
But in solitude, none can exhibit its glory.
A masterpiece made up of thousands of parts;
Until it’s complete, it conceals its true art.

Life’s a mosaic of abstract extremes,
A collation of seemingly disparate themes.
Ironically, milestones that make up a life
Are quite often those most connected with strife

Or oftentimes episodes most unexpected
While, elsewhere, our energies are most directed.
Out of life’s refuse, by hindsight extruded,
One’s mosaic image is finally concluded.

Stephen Tomkins
17 January 2015

Frequent Flyer

images-4

My suitcase and I appear joined at the hip;
He loyally follows me on every trip.
When I turn around, I find he’s always there;
A most faithful companion since I pay his fare.
He carefully stows and transports all my things
On four little wheels as if carried by wings.

He never complains about being too tired
And by his consistency, I’ve been inspired.
I started recounting the deeds of the day
Even though, clearly, he’d little to say.
But when I began to invite him to lunch
My sweet darling wife promptly gave me a punch!

All had been fine until this latest trip;
I started to feel I was losing my grip.
I was telling him red was much better than black,
It was then that I realised that I’d finally cracked!
He answered me back in a deep muffled voice
And fondly advised that I’d made a good choice!

My life was unravelling quickly from there –
At home, he would sit in my wife’s favourite chair.
Despite her entreaties, I thought her unfair –
My luggage obsession soon brought her despair.
I’m writing this now from my warm padded cell;
The doctors assure me that all will be well!

Stephen Tomkins
27 August 2014

24 Hours

images-3

A day is but a blazing second
By which a life is truly reckoned
As good or bad or in-between.
Its like will not again be seen.

A day is but a passing dream
Projected on my retinal screen;
Arriving there, it’s upside down,
My brain then has to turn it round.

A day is but a thought in time,
Propelled by sun’s diurnal mime.
Upside down and round and round,
In timeless music, days resound.

A day is but equivocation,
A scene of human desolation.
Blinding fast it flashes by,
If we’ve time, we’ll question why.

A day is but a blazing second
By which a life is truly beckoned
Towards that great eternity
When free, at last, we’ll finally be.

Stephen Tomkins
28 July 2014

Mighty Otis!

images-2

Mighty Otis! God of Lifts!
By your power, we skywards shift.
To office workers, you’re a gift!
Daily we give thanks!

Inside your halls, we press your numbers,
Lighting up, we still can slumber.
Without you, up the stairs we’d lumber,
Puffing, sweating ranks!

Once inside, we face your altar.
Auto-doors will never falter.
If they did, stay calm we oughta!
‘Long as we stay up!

Safe at work, we do ignore you.
Secretly, we do adore you.
Come knock-off time, we do implore you:
Please to hurry up!

Down the shaft, we start to plummet,
Falling quickly from the summit,
Trying hard now not to vomit!
Where’d my stomach go?

Ensconced inside your cage we fall.
At every floor we seem to call.
There’s no room left here for you all!
A-waiting you must go!

Safe at ground, there’s disbelief:
Once more, we’ve avoided grief.
Thank you, Otis! Sweet relief!
Homeward we can go!

Mighty Otis! You’re the best!
Way ahead of all the rest!
Schindler’s lift can’t pass your test!
Daily we give thanks!

Stephen Tomkins
2 April 2014

(Note: To avoid confusion, Otis and Schindler are two manufacturers of elevators or lifts.)

images

Ocean View

93. Heavy seas at dusk, Imperial Beach, CA-L

Wave after wave, the invasion continues,
Pounding the shore with ephemeral sinews.
Unceasing, the aqueous army advances;
Observing, it’s clear that the whole thing entrances.

The beach battles on in it’s own unique way,
Seemingly letting the sea win the day.
An unlikely defence is so expertly mounted
By armies of sand, in their legions uncounted.

Invaders advance and retreat once again;
The battle continues, a war without end.
A paradox of tumult that somehow brings peace,
A meeting of foes world-renowned for caprice.

Much has been said about maritime moods:
One day she sleeps and the next day she broods.
Perpetual motion, a palette unbounded,
Don’t turn your back or you may just get pounded!

All through the day and then late at night
The sea’s roar continues, but now out of sight.
At some point, the wind’s airy music crescendoes,
Battering huts with tin roofs and small windows.

Transient humans, the sea will remain
Completely unmoved by our joy and our pain.
Her riches we harvest but never can tame
Poseidon unchanging but never the same.

Some say she’s moody but I disagree:
There’s never been artwork that’s quite like the sea!
With every whitecap and every hue,
A masterful canvas no human could do!

Stephen Tomkins
18 December 2014

The Duck

In the widow, hanging down
Was a duck: crisp, golden brown,
With the others hanging round.
How’s your day today?

No more trouble, no more strife,
No more toil and no more wife,
No more family, no more life,
How’s your day today?

On the farm where pigs were suckling,
He was then a fuzzy duckling.
Life was sweet, his Mama’s darling.
How’s your day today?

Fuzz now gone, his fine new down,
Like a stunning regal gown,
Cloaked the king without a crown.
How’s your day today?

He worked hard and built a nest.
His new wife thought him the best.
Three fine eggs were soon their guest.
How’s your day today?

Swiftly, summer days were gone.
Ducklings, too, were moving on.
Youth’s bright beams no longer shone.
How’s your day today?

Sadly nothing but illusion,
All this just a sweet delusion,
‘Midst hunting season’s raw confusion,
Life just ebbs away.

“Why?” you ask. “Why tell this tale?”
Swiftly through this earthly vale
Life sweeps past so fine and frail, so
Cherish your day today.

Stephen Tomkins
26 June 2014

The Cat

Once upon a stormy night,
I opened the door and got a fright.
My cat, I found, was waiting there
Wearing a smile but none of her hair!

What had happened to my pet?
I haven’t figured that out yet.
But when I do, I’m sure you’ll find
That what occurred will blow your mind.

My cat had lovely, shiny hair
Which now was left upon the chair.
Whiskers, tail and eyebrows too,
Out the window, they all flew!

My cat - with hair!

My cat – with hair!

Stephen Tomkins
17 February 2014