On The Runway

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I shall now go crit a load of poems since this is my second piece I posted this week and I've yet to crit anything myself. I don't even know if this poem makes sense, so feedback appreciated. Thanks for reading.

Drown my sorrows on the approach
Lie for twelve years on the runway
Engines fire without a flame
Rumbles quake on the empty jet plane.
Matt.




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This seems a little nonsensical, but only because I'm not sure what a runway is, or what it would be considered in England, etc. So... um... help?

However, I do think the poem sounds too short and I think you really haven't expanded your idea any. :P You're such a pretty poet -- you can go on for a little longer and make it sound really good. ;)
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

Moth and Myth <- My comic! :D




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A runway is the long bit of concrete planes take off and land on. I don't know what it's about so I didn't want to ruin it by expanding it just yet...maybe later when I have more of an idea of what I'm talking about ;)
Matt.



You walk into this room at your own risk, because it leads to the future, not a future that will be but one that might be. This is not a new world, it is simply an extension of what began in the old one. It has patterned itself after every dictator who has ever planted the ripping imprint of a boot on the pages of history since the beginning of time. It has refinements, technological advances, and a more sophisticated approach to the destruction of human freedom. But like every one of the super states that preceded it, it has one iron rule: logic is an enemy and truth is a menace.
— Rod Serling