THE GREAT CAPTAIN
by A. Griffin

---

We're all on this ride together,
friends as close as we are thick,
from beginning to the end,
on board my hydrogen airship.

I got the gas on discount
and the savings
were extensive,
because inflating ships with helium,
though safer,
is expensive.

I know that craft like mine,
have an odious reputation
of bursting into flames
and causing nationwide sensations,

but that incident at Lakehurst,
really was just rotten luck -
an unfortunate disaster,
freak occurrence
run amuck.

I'm the Captain,
and the route to safety
on my chart,
I'm mapping.

I've been tasked
with making sure
that nothing
stupid happens.

When everything is good,
please don't forget
that I'm in charge,
but when the winds get rocky,
know in advance,
I'm not the cause.

The ship has my name on it,
and my uniform looks cool,
but boring stuff
like maintenance
I pass to other fools.

Our dress code
on board
is open,
please wear
anything you like.
Restrictions on
personal taste
are really not our style.

The meals we serve are vegetarian,
we love animals,
so listen,
we enforce our standards strictly -
though you can order steak or chicken.

We said it was meatless eating,
though it was slaughtered in a barn,
but going through the motions
keeps those who might judge us,
charmed.

And my favorite passengers
are in the lounge
smoking cigars,
and they stay behind the scenes
so no one sees them from afar.

We know that smoking's bad -
keeping appearance
is our mission,
so smoking behind a curtain
keeps away the eyes of critics.

We know some riders deal with asthma,
and that others hate the smell,
but we're the only ship that matters -
fly with us,
or go to hell.

We used to light Roman candles
for on-board fireworks shows,
but our insurance forbade us,
so that pleasure had to go.

We were always morally opposed,
and fireworks are lame.
They are loud,
and quite obnoxious,
and with us they had no sway.
(Do not mention our old habits,
or we'll make you go away.)

Even if some got hurt,
we're not liable for the past,
so do not speak of it.
(Or you'll go out
the window fast.)

Some passengers
packed explosives,
but they said
they mean no harm -
good thing for that,
cause just one spark
would make us buy the farm.

We do not allow danger,
this ship runs on common sense,
but one friend
of mine
brought with him
gear
whose wonder
is immense.

It has a tank
for holding fuel
that's worn upon one's back,
and a nozzle aimed
at what the user
wishes to attack.

And when the trigger's pressed
flames are thrown out,
and strewn all over,
but its vital to remember
this device
is no flamethrower.

Flamethrowers are illegal,
and on this ship
we heed the law,
so enjoy
"not-a-flamethrowers"
here
from dusk
until
the dawn.

Some of my officers
before,
faced lock-up time
for arson,
but they promised me they'd stop,
so they're as harmless as a parson.

Others on board
are burn victims,
I checked,
and yes, it's true!
If those folks can forgive
then why in heaven's name
can't you?

Even if we're the only flight
departing from their town,
and these survivors
otherwise
lack means to get around.

One rider spoke
concerned about
a fellow rider's actions,
I did confront the issue fast
to ensure satisfaction.

I acted swiftly
in my duty,
faster than a blur,
and sent that guy a private message
to make sure that I was heard.

It said,
"Passenger,
I beg of you,
please do not be obscene.
I've heard complaints
you did something
perhaps a little mean.

"What you did,
in certain folk's opinion,
may be kind of naughty,
but kicking you off of my ship,
would make me lame and haughty.

"So don't boast of your acts,
it makes somewhat of a scene,
and if people knew,
that you were here,
my ship might seem unclean.

"Behave yourself,
during the time
on board here
that you spend.
There may be ample proof,
but ignorance,
I can pretend -
I see no reason,
you,
from my fine ship,
I should suspend."

One rider was on camera
with some pipe bombs
at a bank,
he fled with cash,
but when asked,
he assured,
"'Twas just a prank."

I vet passengers carefully,
for their safety,
I'm to thank.
I must be doing well,
since ridership has yet to tank.

Maybe it's because
my ship's
the biggest one around,
and with few riders,
smaller ships,
must fly
low
to the ground.

People want to see the heights,
so I say,
"Fly with me!"

And things are good enough,
so why cater
to rider's needs?

Our great size
proves we're awesome,
so there's no cause
to be cautious.

Spend your hard-earned trust
on us,
for an Atlantic
double-crossing.

I'm glad you are on board with us,
so let the flight begin,
and -
OH MY GOD
I just realized,
we're filled with hydrogen!

The ship's already in the sky,
up where the air is thin -

time for plausible denials
made to cover up my sins.

I mentioned Lakehurst
but I swear,
I knew not of "Hindenburg",
and of hydrogen's dangers,
I guarantee,
I've never heard.

The situation's serious,
but none of it's on me.
No one must know
my choices
chanced my own community.

I'll assess the crisis cunningly,
risk hides
right in the open,
as I eye those churlish few,
lighting cigars and smoking -

but to make them
put out their cigars
would cast me as uncool.
But that's alright,
I'll tame the fear of fire
at its root,
and throw those
wearing
wool sweaters
out,
without a parachute.

Even if rules agreed to
didn't name a dressing code,
not everyone's essential
so why not lighten our load?

Everyone knows
wool can make sparks
after it builds up static,
so kicking off wool-wearers
is a most ingenious tactic.

As for what defines wool?
Well, I know it when I see it.
My vision is infallible,
so heed unto thy fiat.

The tags upon all sweaters
listing contents of their fabric,
are false and biased sources -
trusting them's an awful habit.

And the sweater's manufacturers,
why would they tell the truth?
Claiming they'd tag things honestly's
a most deceitful ruse.

And among those
who wear wool clothes
and years ago,
lived through fires,
their clothing choice
clearly reflects
pyroclastic desires.

It's not my fault they boarded
wearing flame-inducing clothes,
and sadly
rules are rules,
so out the window they must go.

It's a sensible decision,
and our enemy is brash,
so kick them out
while I sneak
my wool clothing
to the trash.

Anything to protect my ship
so I'll expand the list -
I won't allow a threat
so catastrophic to exist.

I see many things
so dangerous
bad actors I must cull -
I'll go hunting
to declare more things
now, unacceptable.

Clothing
that is white
or black
now also counts as wool,
even if it's not from sheep,
my logic can't be bull.

If they are wearing
nylon,
leather,
silk,
or polyester,

let them fall into the ocean,
where in crashing waves
they'll fester.

You see,
sheep,
which wool comes from,
are often colored
white
or
black,
so wearing those two colors
now
shall count as an attack.

And every single shade of gray
is now forbidden too,
to argue otherwise
is claiming fire crimes
are cool.

And once I point my finger
there's no way they can resist,
as that alone is proof
their clothing colors
breech my list.

All defenses are but alibis
the guilty use to lie,
so ignore me
as I dip my clothes
in vats of colored dye.

It's cold up here,
and many brought
good clothes to keep them warm,
but I don't accept excuses!
No exceptions!
You've been warned!

Though for those who I owe favors,
or that I think are cool,
the written statement,
"I promise this ain't wool."
is ample proof.

As for you defilers out there,
us good riders know the truth,
we will toss you from our ship,
to purge corruption at its root!

How dare you endanger our ship?
All passengers unite!

Throw out the troublemakers now,
or surely we will die!

They picked this fight,
it wasn't me,
I'm truly innocent!

I acted
on behalf of all,
in passenger's defense!

Now my dirigible is saved!
I'm soaring high
with my good friends,
and we ride into infinity
on journeys without end.

We righteous fliers
light our lighters,
and wave them in salute,
and in the mess hall,
feast on flambe
freshly slaughtered goose.

We would feel bad about it,
but luckily
we all are vegan,
and if anybody questions that,
they'll be thrown off
for treason.

A ship like mine,
there's only one,
so please fly with us soon,
and trust it's just a
Fender bender
when all of it
goes kaboom.

---

Thanks for reading my satirical airship poem about airships, such as the U.S.S. Los Angeles, the Graf Zeppelin, and His Majesty's Airship R 34!

I really love airships, so it was great to finally have a chance to write an airship poem specifically satirizing historical airships and their sometimes explosive nature due to the decision to inflate many airships using explosive hydrogen in spite of the risks involved to those on board the airship.

The historical photograph of His Majesty's Airship R 34 is for illustrative purposes only, as His Majesty's Airship R 34 was highly successful and competently run, and famously completed the first nonstop trans-Atlantic flight by aircraft!

If you read more of my writing in regards to incompetently operated historical rigid airships, I'll point you to my Tumblr blog, as the material tends to be long winded, dry, and not especially well suited to a lighthearted art site dedicated to creative, colorful creatures.

If for some reason you want to see a three hour lecture I gave outlining the history of lighter-than-air ships of the 20th Century, you can check it out HERE, though I warn you, the audio is extremely quiet, and I may have to reupload the video down the line with the volume fixed.

On my Twitch PNGtuber writing show, "A. Griffin Writes", I streamed the creation of about 90% of this poem, totaling a total of nearly 10 hours, which you can look at HERE

If you just want to see me recite the finished poem as my PNGtuber avatar, you can check it out here! HERE

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