'' Passengers ont flight 666 to paradise
are asked to proceed to the exit ".
------------------------------
I'm waiting at the ill luck terminal .
Coffin airways tourist .
A soft voice coming out of nowhere
invites the combustible lives to heaven.
Sometimes fate seems to hesitate .
Or to be a little distracted .
It pops into your mind :
'' Dating for tomorrow ! ''
or : '' Welcome to a trip to nowhere ! ''
The beautiful smiling hostess
knows the afterlife plan .
'' It's too late now to find our way out the fog! ''
The voice announces .
It would be nice to get some sleep
and try to dream .
To let oneself be carried away
on the arms of the graceful hostess .
The most beautiful love is always the one
from the last hour ...
'' Lads and lolitas we'll be ahead of the time change ! ''
The voice announces .
Passengers in a hurry never think to read
the prayers handbook !
I've been wandering around this terminal
for quite a while now and that damn zinc
still hasn't arrive !
Or who knows ,maybe it never left ?
Why the hell ,wont't that Panam flight
let the K.L.M through ?
As if New york were becoming New Amsterdam again....
Evil spirits never take instructions
for the after life seriously ...
'' Please shut up and prepare your souls ! ''
The voice announces .
- '' Mom when are we going to get home ? ''
Elvis is dead .
The hotel California opened its doors .
at the end of the voyage ,
star wars is your new hope !
After that I don't know .
But i'm still here and my cup of coffee
has gone cold ...
Terminal exit .
( Teneriffe airport .March 27/1977 )
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 28th, 2026 11:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Sealgair
Offline)
Comments3
It feels as though the person in this poem is an eternal transit passenger, whose flight to paradise (666) is constantly delayed, forcing them to endlessly pace the cold tiles of oblivion.
Excellent intuition.So many lost souls wander around air terminals ...
I have had this flight canceled and delayed many times and I think they lost my luggage. When I arrive the immigration is run by flames (Furious leftist anarchists mobilizing extreme satanism) Then melted the ICE and left only drips behind.
We all carry
the memory
of a lost luggage
The idea of eternity beginning in an airport terminal feels strangely right, a place where time stretches, destinies cross, and no one is entirely sure when their flight will be called.
Beautifully unsettling!
We are all passengers on a flight whose destination we do not know...
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