Best Destination Poems
Hey there Mister Bobby May,
I am sure I speak for all
When I say,
That you are a steadfast poet
On Soup, your poems are of note,
Your charm and warm charisma
Are like hot chocolate and vanilla
Ice cream,
Your passion for poetry sails
On fluffy white clouds that
Journey in your vivid imagination,
With breath-taking fertile fascination,
Arriving at Awesome destinations,
Elating us all with your intense
Poetic creations,
So although it’s your poetry contest,
Perhaps I and many others
Would, with the fondest
Of thoughts, choose you as a friend,
Because the gems you have penned
Deserve to be mentioned,
For you always seriously evoke
Our devoted attention.
This poem is not for Bobby May’s contest.
It is for you Dear Bobby May.
embraced by soft winds
white wisps trailing our balloon. . .
we’re touching heaven
For Mick Talbot's Haiku Contest
My soul is my canoe
sails me in a sea of verses
a poetic harbor is my destination...
Revolution, evolution,
Destitution, distribution,
Everything is seeking for attention
From the world at large;
Restitution, institution, possibly a
Contribution to the human race,
Seeking some kind of place
To hide from the face staring at me
From the mirror in the restoration room;
Consideration, constipation,
Does anyone want to dance the syncopation?
Embarkation to any destination
Revelation leading to salvation
Whenever the attention is found
The world goes to ground and no one is found
Looking for the resurrection not condemnation
Waiting to see the embarkation to the last port of call;
Is it easy to sail with the wind
When the wind is a hurricane and your sails are paper thin?
Did you dance with the devil when you thought you could win?
Were you seeing the dark thinking light would come in?
Modification, classification, did anyone see
The daily action that took place as a reaction
To your desecration of the institution of a leading man?
Are you looking for inspiration to continue
The stroll through your libation
While stumbling around in the dark of your mind,
Then tripping aloud in the confusion of your kind
Hearing the call to follow the true path
When salvation calls again, and the precipitation
Of the rainfall for the nation rises as you see the light
And dark fades into light as radiation filters
Toward the heart and the destination board changes
For your restitution and resurrection rises again.
Destination of dreams
Maps are folded and re-folded into pocket sized
destinations of our own heart’s desires
Routes become numbers and numbers become moments
as the planning cycle, with yellow highlighter in hand,
presents a “look forward to” scenario
Well beyond windows of curtained belief
and hedges shaped like poetic scribblings calling to me
The sidewalk of chalk marks in hopscotch etchings,
faded from the sun and foot smeared play dates,
leads to that place of affection filled dreams
and I see over the next sunrise a highway,
empty of detours and beckoning Winnebago wanderings
to this heart, from another, on windswept invitations
penned in frilly fonts and colors of imagination,
reaching deeply inside and holding tightly
A glance back as what is left behind brings a smile,
for what waits ahead is now everything new
In the grand scheme of things, what is found chiseled in fate
proves that destiny is a destination of dreams, of hopes and
of love . . . when that journey brings me to you
First day incognito,
called my yesterday boss
On a new burner cell,
with a free burrito ad promo toss
Told her this was my courtesy job
severance quitting HR call —
Advance notice: Fourteen
minutes minus two sabbath days
Said it was time to turn the knob
behind the picture on the wall
Stock options jackpot scene,
no more running the office maze
The rat race lost a cool-lio cat driver,
with the low-rider diamond in the back
Stress camel straw got balloon lighter,
Oz always knows the right time to pack
When you hear the pure velvety Jarreau voice,
and the jazzy trombone dulcet ringtone
I’m already making some high-altitude noise,
heading for destination: parts unknown
This is the last message on this phone,
I’m blue skies sailing to parts unknown
Hello again ex-boss, how have things been shaking,
since I air dropped the transporter Houdini news
Scottie, my fearless pygmy pilot,
beamed me to the edge of the no-satellite zone
Last I heard, there’s a boom in pioneer risk-taking,
but everybody ain’t got the feet size to fit the shoes
It gotta be you, can’t replicate it ...
corporate clones desk chained, they can't roam
I’m free to travel to destination: parts unknown
Moving thru areas where there’s no signal for pho ...
Laying on a dark street corner
the flames of a makeshift fire
the only sign of light
and a frugal attempt at warmth,
on a cold winter’s night
lost in thought,
or so it seems
confused and helpless...
stuck in a time zone,
unfairly treated
unnoticed
uncared-for
all alone
tattered clothes
a testimony of neglect
it’s merely an illusion...
look a little closer
at the laughing lines,
look a little closer
at the sparkle in his eyes...
there is no fear
a hidden smile perhaps
as he struggles for a breath of air,
last words uttered…
“I am ready... He is waiting”
the words of a homeless man
on his final destination...
Ladies say, I’m an everyday gentleman
Haters say, I’m a dark knight
I was born on poor ground fit for a pauper,
never lived a prince Waldo life
Honorific titles, I had none —
no sir,
no officer ...
no mister
Just a simple birth name
Later in life,
my surname got added a nickname
Titles tell others who society say you are,
self given self-esteem
It elevates the ego ... pumps up the pride
Still, everybody ain’t treated equal,
or placed on the same level in life
Some get more respect through their title designation,
others get tossed aside, kicked to the curb
In some places where they don’t pick up the trash,
when the wind of change passes through,
crumpled hope gets blown away
Inherit the wind
means a heritage of nothing
Passing the cemetery,
I saw a lot of names that were treated
better than me
Engraved titles in stone
Mottled moss memory of what their title achieved
fades after they’re gone
In life, everybody’s headed for the same destination ...
it doesn’t matter what be your title designation
So call me Freddie ...
say Mister Robinson, if you want to
But honestly, Rico is just fine by me
No one needs a title to receive a kind friendly hello,
and any designation of distinction
is waved goodbye, withersoever the Spirit whirlwind blow
used to have ambitions
goals
wanted to be a nurse and I did that
was on a mission to be a wife and mother
but life took me down a different path
I always had this natural ability to write
not something that can be taught but born within
and I have the gift and love of dance
and in my dreams and reverie I imagine
myself a world famous writer
poet
and in my fantasy sleep state I am the best
dancer
on the stage as I leap and spin and fly
and the audience applauds
it is really a wonderful dream
my destiny was written
and my family my love and baby (reside in Heaven)
I have no brood of children no parents
(no husband yet)
my life has taken a different path
I have friends who are my tribe and support
and I love them so much for that
they are my kindred spirits
so the purpose of my life is this . . .
to be the best that I can be at whatever I do
and to dwell in peace and tranquility
and I have traveled a journey far and winding
to a place where all is serene
and have at last reached my
destination
____________________
June 2, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/have reached my destination
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1028-055-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
I'd love
to hold your palms
but i don't know
would you
I'd love
to fall in love
but i don't know
where are you
how can
the eye miss
what it never
saw
there's a place
that i really
don't know
be my
portable home
come on
let's go
with your heart
in my chest
who needs
a compass
with my arms
around your
waist
sure wouldn't
want to haste
let the eye
caress
blind me with
that almost
enough excess
let the palms
make love
purity is
witnessed
from up above
let the lips hug
a scene that
will make haters
from defeat
shrug
will never be
there
with my arms around
your waist
i sure wanna go
nowhere
can't you see
with you in
my sights
I've arrived
with your heart
in my chest
we've survived
destination was
just an alibi
to have you by
my side
the road is no one's
friend
it's just a ride
every man writes
his own end
some pack
some write a letter
to send
every man writes
his own end
tamer hossam
Copyright © tamer hossam | Year Posted 2020
I don’t really need a dream vacation,
but if I had to choose a destination,
it would be a tranquil place like Antigua beach
(even though for me that's a little out of reach).
Nearby me there would be coconut palm trees,
and I would feel a warm, soft tropical breeze
coming from the stunning Caribbean Sea.
In a place like Half Moon Bay I might be.
I’d lounge on a chair set upon white sand.
Sometimes there would be a cocktail in my hand.
I’d take in nature’s beauty and read beneath the sun,
and later jump some waves or scuba dive for fun.
“Been there, done that” is my mood these days
now that I’ve arrived at my autumn-years phase.
Having sown my “adventure oats” when in my youth,
I’m happy simply being home, and that’s the truth.
bird tracks in the snow
I followed in the sun’s glow
bright destination
Heidi Sands
2/12/20
H eaven seems within reach when the stars come out at night
O ceanic longings of setting sail to reach exotic lands beyond
P agan moon watching over us to see to it we attain our destination
E lusive dreams become reality in the realm of summoned fantasy
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2025
life is a journey they say,
but not a destination
still, I come to find a family is my only fascination
a mother that wants me
one who I can call my own.
a dad who's their though thick and thin
to see how strong I've grown
I have traveled as if to say
my whole life you see
but I feel lost , with no home stuck on this endless journey
cant be close cause soon ill leave
yes still I where my heart on my sleeve
no matter how many times I dream things
that never come true
ill still have faith that someday ill be happy to
I wonder what its like to wake up Christmas morning
with warmth, and light ,and love
but wondering wont get me far or at least that's what I'm told
from foster home to foster home on an endless path
I write my life that soon ill have
now i cry and prey "at last"
Freedom's Destination
Some foreign country
Some funny name
After awhile
They all sound the same
Grandpa went first
Back then World War I
And didn't come home
'Til the job was all done
My Dad was then ripe
When it came time for II
Returning as hero's
Only missing quite a few
A Brother was the next in line
To risk his life and limbs
But Korea kind of fizzled out
Especially for him
Then came more strife in Asia
And I was 18 "when" . . .
They poked 'n had me turn 'n cough
Then sent me off to win
I thought when in those combat zones
If ever I go down
My folks will know that I was here
Not hiding out of town
We all served for freedom's sake
Representing our hometowns
To be damn sure our kids had homes
Still setting on free grounds
The countless before
And the too many since
Whose young life's were cut short
I am sure would echo this . . .
I fought 'til the end
Now I've given my all
But if nobody minds
Let me make one last call
When you get 'round to my marker
And you're wondering that day
Which words to scribe upon it
What is there left to say
Just keep it nice and simple
And I'll rest forever proud . . .
PLEASE LORD
PLEASE HEAR ME
NO MORE WAR
ALLOWED
JWC/Whysman @ 2001
(Edit 5/2013)