Home in the Sky

So.. I was walking up the road to my house a few days ago and the thought struck me. What if there is someone, just like me, who is as unrealistically keen about hearing about competition results as me. Who won? That's the question, buzzing around in my head when the result is due, any day, to the competition I have entered. So for those who are interested in the answer to "who won the Yeats' Poetry competition of 2014" for young people? which, unfortunately, cannot be found out from the internet (until now), it was me. Yes, for the second year in a row.

I understand that makes me look a tad greedy and I almost feel guilty for not giving others, with the same talent, the chance to win, but I could never be happier.

This year we were assigned the task of responding to Yeats' "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death." For the competition, the candidate had to take the perspective of a soldier and respond to the story of the poem. I thought, at first, that it would be difficult, considering I knew nothing in regards to army artillery, or the sort of terminology that may be used in warfare (if there even is any), but after four hours, I managed it.

In the poem, I adapted the persona of Major Robert Gregory and took his side of the story. I would love to personally thank my English teacher, Miss McArt, for encouraging me to enter the competition again this year. She has been a major inspiration in my teenage life and has done such an effective job in encouraging me to reach my full potential and finally gain some confidence, in both myself and my writing. So thank you, so so much, for everything.

I understand, not everyone who may read this will BE Miss McArt herself, or will even know what sort of person she is.. But she's my idol and probably the only person who doesn't even know it!

So...for the poem, it's unusual that I would dedicate anything to someone I don't, or never will, know but I would like to dedicate this one to William B. Yeats, for his legacy. If he weren't such a good writer, and his fan base wasn't so huge, the festivals that are held in his name wouldn't be held and, perhaps, I would have never stumbled across such an amazing opportunity. So thank you, Mr Yeats.

Again, I'm so thankful for winning. Poetry Ireland, you don't know what it means, and I am thankful for the constructive critism I received, regarding the poem. I also apologise for missing the presentation.

The wording of the poem has been changed from the original as a result of constructive criticism I received from Poetry Ireland.

Home in the Sky

I make the choice to start the plane;
I mount my seat and turn the key.
I join the force in the rain:
To meet a certain destiny.
I know them not, those other men,
Nor enemy, nor ally do I fight.
If I could live it all again
I'd steer away from this final "delight."
I'd banish these thoughts that pois my mind,
And discourage the little man inside.
Too rash I was to leave it all behind,
And venture off to the clouds to hide.
Distant are Kiltartan's men, at noon.
Heartbroken; Margaret and the three;
She may receive the dreaded telegram soon;
Because mine the falling aeroplane shall be.
Through the glass, I can see them ones,
Those times of pain, and those of smiles.
Tears jam in my throat like stones,
As I continue my journey on for miles.
It's clear you question my choice to die,
Needlessly, you assume, within your poem.
But, you see, I just love being in the sky..
It feels a little more like home.


11 April 2014