- First Flight
- Last Shift
- The Brightest Blade
- When They Close The Doors
- The New Excalibur
- The Black Vortex
- Armistice Day
- Ode to the A380
- Notre Dame de Paris
- Unified Theory
- Necessary Travel
- Pliny the Elder
- Writer’s Block
- Continuum
- Confinement
- The Squirrel
- Don’t Forget Your Mask
- Perseverance
- The Sick Bowl
- With Wings Unfurled
First Flight
On the first flight of the A350-1000, an aircraft for which I designed several fairings and delivered databases for the low speed aerodynamic performance model.
I fly –
Because I am,
Because I can!
Because you willed it –
With your hopes, and your passion, and your dreams
With your blood, and your sweat, and your tears.
I was forged through your knowledge
and tempered with your experience.
I am all that you have learnt.
I am all that you have given me.
I belong to you all because you all made me.
And so I fly –
With beauty and grace,
To reunite lovers,
To bring families together,
To let mourners say farewell,
To let newborns say hello,
To turn a disembodied voice into a face,
To turn a stranger into a friend,
I will take you to the ends of the Earth,
And I will bring you safely home.
Last Shift
On the retirement of several long-serving colleagues:
The lights are out.
The desks are tidy.
The phones are silent.
The air is still.
I’ve clocked out for the last time – but what then?
I have worked here with my brothers,
Through the jet age,
Through the supersonic age,
Through the space age.
From the Cold War into the Thawed Peace – and what then?
I’ve drawn a solution with a pencil,
And built a model to test a theory.
I’ve captured a shock on camera
And vortices in a tank.
I’ve harnessed the forces of nature – so what then?
My creations are almost complete,
My labours are at an end,
My accounts are settled,
Even God rested on the seventh day,
And the time has come for me to do the same – yet what then?
I have passed on all that I am –
Through my work,
Through my children,
Through the way that my life has entwined with others,
So I leave to enjoy my remaining hours –
For in the end,
I am no less for having aged
And I am all the more for having lived.
The Brightest Blade
On the first flight of BLADE (Breakthrough Laminar Aircraft Demonstration in Europe), I worked on laminar flow aerodynamics for seven years continuously and I’ve dipped in and out of it ever since. It has been the main focus of several of my colleagues’ careers.
The BLADE aircraft was created by cutting off the outer wings of the first A340 and replacing them with new laminar flow outer wings.
I am laminar but my path has been turbulent.
My wings were clipped,
My feathers were plucked.
My song was silenced.
My purpose was redefined.
My body was overhauled.
My existence was recreated.
My dreams were renewed…
And Now:
I am the moment of truth.
A calculation completed.
A hypothesis tested.
A theory proved.
An obstacle overcome.
A challenge accepted.
A love affair consummated.
A life’s work fulfilled.
When they close the doors
For Tim, on Valentine’s Day 2017:
When they close the door,
I know I am on my way home to you.
In the sky I am between worlds,
The past and the future,
There and here,
CET and GMT,
Day and night,
Real and imagined.
But in the midst of the void – there is you.
And when the sky darkens,
And the clouds thicken,
And the plane pitches like a boat on the waves of an angry sea,
There is you.
There is you
And our children
And our life.
You are my home.
When they close the door,
I know I am on my way home to you,
And my heart and my body sing.
The New Excalibur
I am
As bright as sunlight
Glinting on the rippling water of a mountain stream
As strong as silk
That spins a spider’s web
As clear as the Morning Star
Shining in the darkness
As perfect as a snowflake
Falling silently in the winter sky
As smooth as polished marble
That sparkles in the torchlight.
What was asked – I answered
What was needed – I provided
What was dreamt of – I embodied
What was hypothesis – I proved.
What was theory – I practiced.
What was challenged – I delivered.
What was amorphous – I gave form
What was unknown – I made known.
I am
Our future, hanging on a knife’s edge.
I am
BLADE.
The Black Vortex
Written on a bad day. It’s inspired by the Night Watch books of Sergei Lubyanko, in which he depicts negative thoughts and emotions as a black vortex swirling above people’s heads, visible to anyone with magical powers.
There is a black vortex above my head.
No-one sees it but me.
It grows with anger and bitterness,
Rotating with rage,
Sucking in energy from all around.
Injustice, betrayal, rejection – breathing life into it.
It grows in size
And swirl
And spin
Like a twister in the dead of night.
There is a black vortex above my head.
How can I stop it?
What will make the funnel disappear?
A counter-rotating vortex?
Cancelling the energy that feeds it.
Love, loyalty, faith – streaming light into darkness.
It diminishes,
In size
And swirl
And spin
Like a storm cloud split by sunshine.
There is a black vortex above my head –
And above yours.
None of us can destroy them on our own.
Kindness, generosity, friendship – these are the cure.
The vortices collapse,
Nothing,
No swirl,
No spin.
Only a glimmer of hope, like the break of a new day.
Armistice Day
On November 11th 2018 it was 100 years since the Armistice that ended the First World War.
We were in the centre of Bristol at the Floating Harbour. The centenary was marked by the firing of a field gun to mark the start of the two minutes silence at 11am. It was fired again at 11:02 to mark the end of two minutes. These words are my reflection on that event and on Remembrance.
The sun kisses the harbour wavelets
Orange and yellow leaves bathed in pale winter light.
People go about their business
Runners, cyclists, families, dog walkers.
The sound of church bells travels on the breeze.
The people begin to move with purpose
A crowd forming on the quayside.
The gun sits at the water’s edge like a sentinel.
It’s attendant soldiers seem little more than children.
The most sombre of timepieces.
The sound is a physical blow
A crash of noise, a wave of sound in my chest.
A cloud of white smoke billows.
A scent of sulphur, pungent and poisonous.
A shrieking of the gulls splits the silence.
Their eerie calls fill the air.
Was it like this 100 years ago?
The natural world disrupted by our weapons
Lives extinguished by war and conflict.
Lives barely lived by the young of that time.
Their voices remain as whispers in our consciousness.
“Never again”
“We shall remember them”
“They shall not grow old”
Those left have grown old and almost all departed.
They died not only for the great and the good.
They died also for the weak, the vulnerable and the unworthy.
Their sacrifice for all not only for heroes.
The second blast we are prepared for.
The sound still a shock but familiar.
Was the sound ever not shocking for those who fought?
Was the horror ever numbed by its persistence?
Their gift to us is our freedom.
We honour them by keeping the peace they hoped for.
We honour them by remembering their sacrifice.
The gun must become only a timepiece.
War must become only a memory.
No other generation must be lost.
Ode to the A380
On the announcement that production of the A380 will end in 2021, and as it was Valentine’s Day, I thought a love poem to A380 was fitting.
Ode to the A380
It was love the first time I saw you
You leapt off the page of the magazine cover,
Bold, beautiful, curvaceous, audacious.
You had no name
You had no tangible form
Yet even the thought of you was breath-taking.
It was hope the day we met you.
I was already waiting to meet someone else.
Precious, perfect, joyous, gorgeous!
He was taking form within me,
As you took flight
A child of the 21st century like you.
It was joy the first time you waved to us!
I brought my baby to see you.
Magnificent, soaring, imperious, tremendous
He slept nestled in blankets as I watched you fly.
One my inspiration,
The other my life blood
My tears those of happiness that you were both safely here.
It was happiness the day you performed for us,
My second son watching you in wonder with his brother.
Quiet, immense, courageous, bodacious
You owned the sky!
I was on top of the world
I found you already there enjoying the view.
It is love again now we are losing you.
You gave us immeasurably more than we can quantify.
Beautiful, unifying, gracious, precious
You brought us together
The whole world fell in love with you
And even the thought of you is still breath-taking.
Notre Dame de Paris
On the 15th April 2019, the world watched in shock as the cathedral of Notre Dame in the centre of Paris was severely damaged by fire. The gothic spire collapsed, and scaffolding already in place for refurbishment work melted in the heat. Despite the damage, the fire service were eventually able to control the blaze and saved the stone facade and the towers. Work has been ongoing since to stabilise the structure and begin rebuilding.
She stands at the heart of the city
Named for the Queen of Heaven
Towering above the bustle of the streets below.
A sentinel that watches over us.
Crafted from eternal stone
Built to last to the end of time
Built to push human invention to its limits
Built to glorify the infinite.
She welcomes them all to her nave
From the emperor to the hunchback
From the president to the pauper
From the distant past into the far future.
She survived wars, revolution and crisis
She resounded with joy at liberation
She stood in silent pain at occupation
She prevailed in the face of every challenge
And then came the inferno
A glimpse of hell in a gateway to heaven
A trial by fire for an innocent victim
A gaping wound in the people’s psyche.
Yet she is not lost even now
By the fortitude of the firefighters
By the people’s goodwill
By the love and endeavour she represents
She will rise again
As certain as the skill of her builders
As certain as the faith of her people
As certain as the beauty of her treasures
For in the end
We are not so different from our medieval ancestors
We love with their passion
We hope with their desire
We may not see her complete again
Her first builders died before she was whole
Their life’s work finished by others
Yet whilst we live we hope
She will stand sentinel again
She will last to the end of time
She will be changed but undimmed
She will be witness to our faith in the future.
Unified Theory
Without all of you,
I would not be the same.
I would know less
I would experience less
I would have seen less
I would have laughed less
I would have cried less
I would be less.
With all of you,
I am more than I was
I see more
I understand more
I learn more
I experience more
I love more
I am more.
Together we are whole,
We are greater than the sum of parts,
We achieve more,
We imagine more
We understand more
We communicate more
We experience more
We create more
We are more than you or I
We are more than you and I
We are unity – and unity means one.
Necessary Travel
What is necessary travel?
Commuters anaesthetised from the outside world,
Earphones in,
Tablets ready,
Clutching caffeine
Thoughts of the home they’ve left for the day,
Thoughts of the jobs they’re heading to,
Thoughts of their hopes, their dreams, their loves.
Thoughts of the chewing gum underneath the seat
The grime on the windows
The delays, the cancellations.
Why do they do it?
Because they need to support their families and maintain their way of life.
What is necessary travel?
Business travellers arriving at the airport.
Trolleycases ready
Dog-eared passports
Ritualised packing.
Thoughts of the people they’ll meet
Thoughts of the tasks they must accomplish.
Thoughts of their loved ones at home.
Thoughts of the delayed air traffic slot.
The deicing trucks at the ready,
The body searches, the technical problems
Why do they do it?
Because some things require you to meet face-to-face.
What is necessary travel?
Families piling into the train carriage.
Packed lunches prepared
Bags for vomit
Colouring books, crosswords and computer games.
Thoughts of the grandparents they’ll visit.
Thoughts of the people they’ve missed
Thoughts of the beloved places they’re returning to.
Thoughts of the interrupted sleep schedules
The tantrums
The arguments and conflicts
Why do they do it?
Because in the end, we all need our families.
What is necessary travel?
The couple heading off on a beach holiday.
Swimsuits ready,
Sun cream packed
Strappy sandals, dresses and shorts.
Thoughts of languorous days in the sun,
Thoughts of romantic, moonlit evenings,
Thoughts of erotic nights of passion,
Thoughts of sunburn and mosquitoes,
Of food poisoning
Of bottled water and bus tours
Why do they do it?
Because they want to preserve and cherish the spark at the heart of their love
What is necessary travel?
What is unnecessary travel?
For big reasons and small we like to move around.
It lets us reconnect with each other.
It lets us see the world beyond our own front doors.
It brings us together
For in the end – we began travelling when we became human.
There is no sign of stopping – it is who we are.
And we will continue to travel:
To new cities
To new lands
To new continents
To new worlds
Into the stars.
Pliny the Elder
He must have known, on some level, that he wouldn’t come back.
When he looked across the bay
Saw the column of smoke that rose high into the sky
The mountain that had turned into a monster.
A man of science – he wished to study it.
A man of honour – he wanted to save his friend
A man of courage – he braved the ash and the darkness to reach her
With the words “Fortune favours the brave!”
He buoyed his comrades up – eating, drinking, bathing
Steadfast in the face of destruction and disaster
Keeping hope alive when all seemed lost
Keeping cool in the midst of the inferno.
Whilst I live I hope
Whilst I hope I live.
Yet human frailty overcame even his will
His brave soul lost on the shores of Stabiae.
Yet his greatness was his love.
His love of science
His love of others
His love of life.
His endeavour still remembered
His name granted to volcanic eruptions
Two thousand years later we still know his name
The scientist, the soldier, the father, the friend.
How do we face our challenges?
How do we approach the impossible?
Do we decide to press on?
To pursue the tiniest glimmer of hope?
Fortune favoured the bold
His story an inspiration to others.
He didn’t return from his voyage
Yet he sailed into history – into legend.
I have not faced a volcano
I have not braved darkness and storm to save a friend.
Yet I think of him when faced with the impossible
I hope I would always steer the course he chose.
Writer’s Block
Sometimes a blank sheet of paper is the hardest thing to face.
So much promise
So much opportunity
The agony of possibility
The realisation so close – you can almost taste it!
Yet the idea will not crystallise-
It floats, amorphous, shifting, fragmenting and reforming.
Like a fracture in space time.
All moments at a single point in space.
All space at a single moment in time.
I cannot see how the story ends –
I cannot even see how it begins
I see only discrete moments –
Like the night suddenly ablaze in a flash of lightning.
They come to me in dreams
Perhaps they know what their story is?
If only I could ask them –
Release them from their stasis
Like a sculptor carving away the marble
That hides the figures she sees within.
Instead I wait, contemplating them
As a mother impatient to meet the child that grows within her.
The sheet of paper still sits in front of me.
I will fill it. I must fill it. I can fill it!
Like a child learning to walk – one day it will come.
The story is waiting to be told.
One day I will be ready to tell it.
Continuum
There is always a moment
In every story worth telling
Where all seems lost
All reason would indicate
That there is no hope
All logic would dictate
That it is too late
No escape
No mercy
No comfort
Yet then there is always a moment
In those same stories worth telling
Where someone won’t give up
Beyond reason
They continue to hope
Beyond logic
They keep on striving
An escape?
A solution?
A blessing?
They don’t always get the ending they expected
They don’t always get the ending they want or deserve
Yet something in their quest
Inspires us to keep on going
The tapestry of life is tightly woven
Its pattern not always discernible until it is complete
And sometimes the dead endings
Are merely the branches of a spreading tree
And sometimes the bravest action
Is to believe we are all needed to weave it
Confinement
In 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic led to lockdowns being imposed in countries across the world to control the spread of the virus, prevent hospitals from being overwhelmed and to reduce the death toll. The lockdown was a seismic shock for our way of life – but in addition it caused me to reflect on what 2020 is like in comparison to what I might have imagined as a child.
The Muse has left me.
She didn’t leave with any fanfare.
There was no ultimatum
No rancorous build up of hostilities
No gradual deterioration in relations
I suddenly noticed she wasn’t there.
I had no words to describe my state.
No metaphoric beast to represent rage.
No visualisation to capture my creeping dread
No adjectives to depict the gaping wound in my heart.
This wasn’t what 2020 was supposed to look like.
There was a moon base and nuclear fusion.
There were hover bikes that actually flew.
There was unity and tolerant co-existence.
The Cold War replaced by a thawed peace.
.
I imagined myself having achieved more
Having done more
Having travelled more
I thought I would be certain
That all I’d done was for the common good
Today has become about survival
None of us can dwell on our fears
For our children depend on our bravery
Our parents depend on our fortitude
We all depend on each other to stay in isolation together.
This isn’t what 2020 was supposed to look like
But it is what it is.
Our lives may not be as we expected
But they are the lives we are living
If others can be brave so will I.
I just wish she’d come back
And release me from the prison of my own thoughts.
The Squirrel
Whilst working from home during 2020, I began to spend more time noticing the wildlife in my garden. In particular, I began to notice the antics of a squirrel – whose daily routine seemed to intersect with my own. His daily attempts to get to the nuts in our bird feeders, which almost invariably ended in failure, seemed to sum up the challenges of living in lockdown. Yet at the same time, his indomitable spirit and the fact that he never gives up trying to get the nuts gave me both comfort and great entertainment.
This morning I saw the fat squirrel again.
His bushy tail, fluffed up like a grey feather boa behind him.
His satisfied round white belly resting on the fence
His hind legs tucked beneath him.
He is looking at me through the kitchen window.
He thinks if he stays still, I won’t see him.
He does this every day.
Scampers down from the tree, Over the roof of the garage,
Runs along the garden fence and jumps onto the neighbour’s shed.
Heading to the old oak tree.
He is looking at me through the kitchen window
He hopes that he will bury enough nuts for winter.
Sometimes he tries to get to the bird feeders.
Climbs up the pole until he reaches the baffle.
Stretches his body at full length to reach its edge…
Fails and slithers back down.
He is looking at me through the kitchen window
He brazenly pretends it’s what he meant to do.
Recently he is digging in the garden.
Scrabbling in the grass, little holes at random intervals
He may be depositing or collecting.
Shiny, perfect acorns with their jaunty hats.
He is looking at me through the kitchen window.
He seeks neither permission nor forgiveness
We have become witnesses to each other’s lives.
Before I saw colleagues and friends during my coffee breaks.
The squirrel went about his business unobserved
Now we are connected in our routine
He is looking at me through the kitchen window
Will he miss me when I go back to the office?
In the spring, our lives will change
Maybe I will be able to hug my parents again
Maybe I will travel to other lands, as he scampers in the woods
Maybe he will have a family to feed
He will look for me in the kitchen window
And wherever I am at that moment, I will smile at the thought of him.
Don’t Forget Your Mask
Remember your phone
Pick up your keys
Put on your shoes
Don’t forget your mask
Wash your hands
Sneeze into your elbow
Dry your tears
Don’t brood about the past
Bake a cake
Go for a walk
Feed the birds
Don’t give up hope
Put on your headset
Pour yourself coffee
Switch on your computer
Don’t get distracted
Do the laundry
Clean the bathroom
Write your story
Don’t think about the future
Post a letter
Go for a run
Clear your head
Don’t start to spiral
One day at a time
We will find a way through this
One day at a time
We will keep getting up
One day at a time
We will approach the date
When this is no longer
The way that we live
Skype your relatives
WhatsApp your friends
Hold your household close
Don’t lose sight of today
The sun will rise
The Spring will come
This too shall pass
Don’t give up hope
Perseverance
On the 18th February 2021, the Perseverance rover landed on Mars in the Jezero Crater. The final descent of the rover was broadcast by NASA. Dr Swati Mohan, the lead of the Guidance and Control team, gave updates on the status of the probe during the descent. At the final moment of touchdown, there was an expected pause in the broadcast of telemetry data from the probe, with only a “heartbeat tone” remaining. There was a tense wait for the proble to resume broadcasting its status, confiming it’s safe arrival. These lines were written after watching the broadcast.
Perseverance
Red dusty rock beneath a warning amber sky
Warm colours deceive
For this desert is colder than ice
An alien sky lit by the same stars
A lonely world of sand and storm
A fireball streaks through the thin air
Some shooting star
Carrying the dreams of thousands
Hurtling towards its certain doom
Burning bright before its demise
I am that streak of heat and light
My life started
In a room of sterile bright white
I voyaged for months in darkness
To burn my way to the surface
I heard my Makers tell each other
They’re the same
They enter the world in noisy chaos
The last minutes determine success
No guarantees or certainty of outcome
Everything they could do is done
I am alone
I shed my carapace and soar
My sail fills the sky above
As I float the final furlongs
I am brought to a sudden stop.
Am I dead?
Did all of me make it down?
My limbs? My eyes? My brain?
I feel my heart beating still
Strong
Steady
Dogged
Brave
All
Is
Not
Lost
Wait
Wait
I open my eyes as the dust clears
I am alive!
Desert stretches out before me
An alien sky lit by the same stars
My lovely world of sand and storm
I tell them that I made it here
They will cheer
My fulfilled purpose completes theirs
The search for knowledge and truth
About the universe we all inhabit
The Sick Bowl
I sit in a cupboard
Under the sink
Jaunty and bright
Ample and round
I should hold salad
At dinner parties
At summer barbecues
At woodland picnics
Instead I hold vomit
From clammy toddlers
From pregnant women
From hungover teens
I accept it all
All the sick
All the bile
All the tears
I witness their pain
I accept it
With no judgement
Only loving strength
With Wings Unfurled
The dragon’s heart
beats strong and true
each chamber flames
with molten love
It’s tail coils round
it’s precious brood
Three eggs sing
of promise untold
And as it steps
with wings unfurled
out into space
and soars aloft
It brings us hope
for what’s to come
a guiding star
on tomorrow’s eve