Poetry on Odyssey: Mayday

Poetry on Odyssey: Mayday

A poem inspired by the infamous Amelia Earhart and her plane from a different point of view.

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June 1st, we got our start,

Mrs. Earhart climbed aboard,

Elated yet focused,

Knowing history was being made,

And I was a part of it,

Up until the very end,

It was Mrs. Earhart, Mr. Noonan, and me.


I was bursting with pride as my wheels lifted from the ground and I took flight,

Mrs. Earhart controlled me with ease,

We had an understanding her and I.

Mr. Noonan expertly navigated us through the clouds,

My metal caught the radiant rays of sunlight that seemed just out of my reach,

My wings were expert and sharp,

Slicing through the clouds like scissors through craft paper.


Hours passed and I grew weary,

Mrs. Earhart guided me over the Pacific,

Mr. Noonan slumped over the map,

Searching the expanse of water for Howland Island, our next fuel stop,

He scoured the map,

she searched the sky,

But my tank that had once been filled to the brim, now empty.


Mrs. Earhart gripped the steering stick tighter,

Attempting to maneuver us to a safe landing,

I focused all my energy on making my mark,

stared upon the island's dusty surface,

willing myself to go just a bit further,

trying to ignore Mrs. Earhart's shouts of mayday ringing in my ears.


I was still staring upon the island as my body hit the water,

Mayday, mayday,

Chilling me to my core,

My body cried as I sunk faster and faster,

Mayday, mayday,

Water filling in every crevice of my being,

Drowning my tears in the waters of the Pacific.


I panicked, knowing I had let her down,

I felt one of my windows shatter,

felt a pang,

Mrs. Earhart kicked off from my right side,

She exited the plane with fervor,

Plunging herself into the abyss of water,

Frantically swimming to the surface,

Holding her breath until she reached it,

Allowing her lungs to be filled once again with sweet oxygen,

Or did she?


My eyes grew weary, filling to the brim with salty water,

I fought the urge to shut them,

I had to see Mrs. Earhart reach her final destination,

But alas, the water became too much for me and the island fell from my eyes.

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Living Away From My Best Friend

13 hours and 17 minutes away

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13 hours and 17 minutes. That's about how long it would take me if I dropped everything right now and drove to my best friend. Thanks to technology, being a couple of states away isn't too bad. She's on a screen with a click of a button and we can talk all hours of the day. She's an hour ahead of me, so she tries to tell me the future, and she also brags about it being Christmas sooner. An advantage of her not being here is she can't smack me when I do something dumb, which I tend to do a lot, but we always have something to say since we aren't living the same experiences. There's different gossip, funny/stupid things that happened to us, events, etc. She's not there to break into my room and steal my food. Luckily, she's not here to force me to go shopping and drive me to be poorer than I am. She's there for every decision before I make it. Every Christmas gift sent through the mail is happily received when you realize it's not a bill.

Although it has its advantages of her being far away, it definitely has its disadvantages. There are so many moments where I just wish my best friend was at my side. Every breakup, every accomplishment, every emotionally charged moment, every milestone, every new relationship, every fun experience, every interesting new food, and everything else that we know the other would like. Those days when everything is falling apart and you need someone, a phone doesn't compare to showing up at your doorstep with all your favorite things and watching a movie. It's different celebrating an accomplishment through text when you could be out at your favorite restaurant together. Every new relationship is tough knowing your best friend isn't there to get an unbiased opinion of the person, and to help hide the body when they break your heart. Every moment she doesn't reply, you wonder if something happened to her and if you would be notified if she died.

There isn't a girls' night when I look like a mess. It doesn't make sense when I'm trying to describe someone she's never met. She doesn't know how gross it was that this guy flirted with me or how that piece of that girl's outfit looks terrible on her. We can't have Saturday nights out together or movie nights in. She's not here to wipe the tears of sadness or encourage the tears of laughter. It's impossible to surprise them with anything.

I'm terrible at fashion, makeup, trends, etc. while she knows it all. I know absolutely nothing when it comes to makeup, so it's hard asking for help when she can't color match in person. I can't help her with homework, sports, or art. We can't use our individual talents for each other. All of that is through a screen. A screen that can die. A screen that can malfunction. A little screen is all we rely on.

I guess the thing I've come to realize is that when one of us do go those 13 hours and 17 minutes or so, we definitely have to take advantage of it. We have to have our movie nights and makeovers. We have to blow all our money shopping and getting me all the makeup I had ever ask help for. We have to introduce every person we had previously mentioned through the screen. We have to celebrate all the accomplishments, meet boyfriends, and surprise each other with our favorite things.

Although it sucks being 13 hours and 17 minutes away, if it means keeping our friendship, I'm okay with there being distance.

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