Best Backpackers Poems

Long lines
of childhood
are over.  The
mould is cold 
as stone, the 
damage is done.

Now it is time to
pack the back
and disappear.
Let the search
begin.  Fall...

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Gifts love-packed
Glass-balls gleam around
Plastic-bells compact
Move to and fro without sound
Amidst wreaths, and nutcrackers
Wool-stuffed Santa Claus 
Waves his hands like backpackers
Gives a smiling solemn silent pose
Stockings...

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BELIZEAN BLEND

In the beginning it was the Yucatec, the Mopan and  Kekchi  as well
Who came from the steppes of Asia where nomads dwell
They...

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Down and Out in Saigon

Southeast Asia, and Mexico
 has always attracted 
A certain type of westerner
The down and out 

On a down word spiral
Why?
Relatively cheap...

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creating a gathering
where spoken words sing
of a moment that will bring
about answers to everything
we've subconsciously been asking
when can we breathe instead if gasping
for an everlasting...

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The Team.   

Here we are in Gayndah town, 
The parks are all filled up. 
With Caravans and Motor homes,
‘N’ Backpackers trying their luck.

The...

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Whatever happened to all those cab drivers 
  in Madison, Wisconsin with PhD's back in the 1970's?

How are all the college kids doing who...

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In winter I nestle 
under your quilt warming me  
till snow melts.

In spring I bloom 
from your quilt to bear fruits
of everlasting joy.

In summer...

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Behind the curtain, and the veil, and the canopy
it's hard to find out what it's really meant to be.
The more you try to sort it...

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Love And Live Life

Life is love and love is life
So live life and love life
Everyone around is taxed and burnt
Simply douse with smile and love
Tensions...

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“Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam …” —Dr Brewster M Higley VI


Oh, give me a home ...
where the big bison bellow,
bellowing in...

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we play spin the bottle like children pulling wings off flies
no care full abandon no threat of the truth the next the 
tomorrow the what...

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In my dreams
I'm always alone
on monorail subway platforms
on anonymous beaches
with crowds and sharks feeding
and I the only swimmer.

In my dreams
I'm searching
cold rooms and buildings
backpackers hostels
street...

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Ivan Milat is dead
There is nothing to be sad about or to dread
He killed seven backpackers in the Belanglo State Forest
Finally dying from the cancer...

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A one-time backpacking zebra with a rah rah rah
Went down the mountain sliding down a long seesaw
We yelled hey wait! Don’t you usually walk.
He gave...

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