Best Expedition Poems
Beyond ego's orbit, we set our sights,
On an expedition where compassion ignites.
Away from selfish dreams, we'll choose to see,
The world's shared sorrows, our true destiny.
In this cosmic voyage, we'll leave behind,
The narrow confines of a selfish mind.
To remember the pain, the world's cries,
And reach for the stars with empathetic eyes.
For in the vast expanse of space so wide,
We'll find a perspective, hearts open wide.
To mend the world's wounds, we'll find our way,
On an expedition that cares, come what may.
An expedition to lands burdened by strife,
Where hunger persists and claims innocent life.
In the quest for solutions, we'll firmly stand,
To nurture education across each land.
Through empathy's lens, we'll bridge the divide,
In the face of despair, we won't step aside.
War's harsh grip, we aim to unbind,
A mission of love to heal humankind.
With hearts full of hope, we'll dare to heed,
The change these poor countries so desperately need.
An expedition for a brighter tomorrow we'll strive,
For a world where all souls can truly thrive.
I am here on an archaeological quest,
to satisfy many a curious mind's request
for knowledge on antiques and artifacts
of Egypt's long extinct historical facts,
in treasured sands buried, like gold mines earnestly
sought for in stories shrouded in mythology.
With a large contingent just as curious as I,
hardly daunted by curses, but with shoulders high,
we went to the field, the sun baking us chaps
to a baker's delight. With our rumpled maps,
we searched every clue, and were bitten perhaps
by a million flies. Getting relief from sunless skies
in times of fair weather, whilst hoping something lies
in the depths of the hot sands for our very eyes
to see. With my tools by hard work and search worn out,
I brushed to full view, the tomb, brilliantly carved out
of young blue blooded Tut, regally laid to rest.
To my wearied colleagues, I spoke in real earnest:
'To exhume the past, we are here at last.'
Form:
Each sweet sunrise, is but another
chance,
To create a difference, in life’s sweet
dance.
You greatly matter, you are verily so
powerful.
Smile broadly now, there no need to be
sorrowful!
Life is no race to prove you are hot
stuff!
Sprinkle love wherever, you go, don’t be
tough.
You are a star in the universe, don’t forget that,
Always wear your love for humanity
hat!
Pen heartfelt poetry~that is really, wholly
you.
And a warn welcome to the human
crew!
Our time on earth is much shorter than we
think.
It’s used up so quickly and evaporates like
ink!
6/6/2022
"Life is an expedition to unknown territories. Adverse winds may veer round and the calm may be disrupted any time, but don't lose hope and pull on" ~ By Poet
Leaving the sheltered confines of the past
We embarked on an expedition, fresh and new,
With the present volume and its contents closed down
To open another and pore over its pages anew.
Everything was calm and still as we set out,
Except the pain of being cast loose from our anchorage
Over the swelling magnitude, we sailed past,
To alight into the novelties of another world.
On the bosom of a tranquil sea, with fleecy clouds above
We moved on to realms, fanciful and new,
And continued to sail over the lolling waters,
Gazing at the finny herds in undulating waves.
But sudden was the turn of wind and weather.
The waves rose to mountain heights.
Thunders bellowed over the wild waters.
And the sea into an aggressive fiend turned.
The billows lashed and crashed over the rocks.
All around was the booming sound of rushing waves.
Flashes of lightning left rents in engulfing gloom,
And the ship, adrift in the roaring currents.
At a point when it was about to drown
The tempest subsided; the sky turned clear.
What Providence has saved us from our peril?
We keep wondering now and ever!
Knowing that tempests will again strike,
And our vessel will be rocked hither and thither,
Now, with greater caution in every move,
With the riggings once more fastened tight,
And with the blue line of a cherished past,
Receding quickly away like a cloud in the horizon,
We continue our expedition, braving the waves,
And sail past to regions far and unknown!
One tentative step,
then another, bolder,
breaching vastness
unbounded.
It is the resolute study of
empty pages
hopeful
of a happy ending
to what is yet written
It is predatory bloodlust
too intense
and transcendent
of the present.
Contracted muscles,
surging adrenaline,
narrowed vision,
and felled prey.
Everything else shrinks,
momentarily,
to nothing
'til time catches up.
It is an embrace,
accepting,
fully ignorant,
but sweetly,
all that lurks,
creeps,
lies in wait,
just around the bend
with a deceptive grace.
A plummet,
cascading free-fall,
awash in misty glee,
upheld by angel wings
and the river
recklessly
toppling
over a cliff.
Blinding swirling passions
disorientation,
oblivion,
battered
but alive.
Alive
and
confident still.
09/02/15
The explorers are nine,
Voyaging to a goldmine:
A quarry conceiling glistening gold;
None needn't tarry to be told,
Before mounting hurriedly his horse -
Well-resolved to stay on course;
Big game can cross their way;
Ahead some large rivers may lay;
Energy in them will wax wane;
Nerves too shall soon strain;
Not to weary the men maintain;
To bear the brunt they all remain,
Until they reach destination desired
And get good gold acquired.
Yeah, just grab an old rusty shovel, a case of Bud Light and hop in the back of my red
pickup truck, because us country boys are heading down to Sweetwater Creek to hunt for
some rare species of dictionary. Boy, don't you worry about nothing. We got plenty of
ammo. Uncle Willie, you know them dictionaries got some powerful stuff.
Yeah, they got all kinds of words that I cain't spell or spit out my mouth. Some folks
say, you can use them fancy-polished words printed in a dictionary. You boys know better.
We can't read, write or arithmetic! Boys, we need to shake a stick, saddle up and go
rustle up some wild dictionaries. To capture a wild dictionary, you need to wear
specialized Desert Storm camouflaged gear, and be very quiet!
Boys, its time for the hunting dictionary expedition!
Now, big Willie, listen to me good, when we find this critter, I am not settling for a
handshake, because I need to bust a few caps in those hind parts with my double-pump
shotgun. Boy, be quiet. Do you hear something rattling behind them bushes? Hey, look down
yonder! Oh, Nellie, I got a big surprise for that old slick Willy dictionary.
Well, I am a Southern Boy, with a background in cannon artillery and fire weaponry. I will
deliver the final blow and knockout punch with my deluxe K-Mart special, double barrel
Winchester rifle, equipped with a high-powered scope, aiming right-between-the-eyes of
the victim.
Big Willie, You know stuff is going to fly in every direction. Now, its time to grab that
slippery dictionary right by the tail, fling it straight up in the air and shake the
cobwebs loose! Just in case, we might have to tap it with a few more rounds of buckshot
from my shotgun named big Shirley. You know, just so I can let it marinade.
Man, I am so cool, when I captured this black double-breasted Oxford dictionary, I skinned
it and cleaned it and turn it into a thesaurus.
Posted By: Gregory W Golden Dated 16 Oct 2006
your hands travel my body
like a gypsy roaming free
my breast sweet flowers
my neck a tall tree
you wander my continent
my islands of pink
traveling my country
right up to the brink
of my blue eyed oceans
and my blonde sand beach
your tongue no limits
nothing out of reach
you have a secret map
know every passion trail
your lips hike my mountains
your fingers set sail
through the lakes and rivers
of my liquid desire
over my stomach valley
to a volcanic heart fire
that heart place you've chosen
to simply reside
drifting in so softly
like seashells in the tide
When I was eighteen
I entered her virgin land
She absorbed me with esteem
But there was no success at hand
I struggled to raise my head up
To sail above the obstacles
To keep the mantle up
From the unknown expected miracles
Success distanced herself
From the vicinity of the humble
Food, rest, pleasure I rejected myself
Determined and prepared for the rumble
The rumble for greatness
To stand out among equals
To lead a life of happiness
When the expedition is over
“‘I’ refers to India. That is, India is the narrator. She is sharing the days which she is
observing from the very beginning to the present life. Let us see what she is trying to
tell……..”
It was a long age,
When I glimpsed at the long-ago,
Flourished nation was my name,
Sensation didn’t last for long.
O my deity! Someone’s bad eye,
Grasped the honorable potency,
In the front of eye,
A big shot had stolen the energy.
The foreigners came to settle beside,
I invited them entirely,
Amid their smartness behind,
How this became a cause of dying?
Aliens had detained the whole thing,
No hopes of acquiring the feed.
The moment, they misused everything,
Chains restricted the hand.
Among, some sacrificed for me,
“It’s too much, we can’t bear this anymore”
From this, they aspired for me,
Attaining independence for long
Fire and bullets were on the mode,
Millions were expired and leaved,
Seemed not affecting the bond,
At last, I was again freed.
My children could inhale,
Bodies of great traits
Are safe under my soil,
Let’s remember the forfeit of lives.
A day of 15th august,
Comes once in the year
Proves everyone is liberated,
Let’s sing the Anthem with passion.
It’s about 63years of liberty.
I’m seeing my blossoms,
Some has already forgotten the mighty,
Spit into my flag, respect is far.
I require comparison,
War days and the present,
Looks alike where,
No wish to reflect.
Hope! One day will surely arrive,
Dignity and pride is seen everywhere.
The dark sky will not be here
The pain will be sealed, bliss will enter.
Jai hind! Jai Bharat!
Independence poem
Written by:
Shrishty Shrivastava
‘X’ standard
How can I define to you in a rhyme
My pain, melodically, acquired with time
How can I make anyone feel what I feel
When all I know are lies, nothing is real
Let me bring you down with me
As we walk through the fires, tell me what you see
Let me throw you to the loins blindfolded
Stand your ground and see how long you can hold it
Give me 18 years to destroy your worth
I’ll be in your brain til you regret your birth
Only when you have to hide like I hid
Will you know the pain that I did
I am here on an archaeological quest,
to satisfy many a curious mind's request
for knowledge on antiques and artifacts
of Egypt's long extinct historical facts,
in treasured sands buried, like gold mines earnestly
sought for in stories shrouded in mythology.
With a large contingent just as curious as I,
hardly daunted by curses, but with shoulders high,
went to the field, with the sun baking us perhaps
to a baker's delight. With our rumpled maps,
we yonder searched, bitten as we went by perhaps
a million flies, getting relief from sunless skies
in times of fair weather, while hoping something lies
in the depths of the hot sands for our very eyes
to see. With my tools by hard work and search worn out,
I brushed to full view, the tomb, brilliantly carved out
of young blue blooded Tut, regally laid to rest.
To my wearied colleagues, I spoke in real earnest:
"To exhume the past, we are here at last."
here, I am now resting besides
the graves of my memories
and plucking black flowers
grown to their ugly chests
and with a spade, digging the
hole to grab all the soil
to rewrite my past, although
knowing thats quite impossible.
i am in an unknown city, with
my some well wishers,
the city proves to be full of
graves and vast skeletons
i cannot rest my legs on them as
they are pious remains
and their souls instruct the
whole city with their bizzare
eyes.
i am unable to decide, why my
fate has taken me to this city,
have i done something wrong or
just craved for you
and I know my discovery would
lead me among one of them
Last night,
I encountered a virgin soul,
weeping on her grave,
she was a beauty and a heartful
lady in her best clothes
I w
had no courage to go to her, and
asked her what the matter was,
somewhat like she too was
feeling what I felt at the
beginning
I wish, she might understand
the pain of the dark memories
And that city lies in the heap of
the dead memories.
ask yourself this question
make sure to answer true,
what is the condition
of the real inner you?
this I ask myself
each and everyday
am I a rare book on the shelf
or garbage to be thrown away?
looking into the mirror
my soul stares back at me
with truth simple and pure
feeding my avid curiosity
encouraging me to explore
the depths of my spirit
walk through the forbidden door
although I deeply fear it
I may not like what I find
or I may love it so
but to remain spiritually blind
means to cease to grow
The sheer maintenance of the probability,
Nothing is comparable to our garrulous mendacity.
Nothing can be called a consummate pattern,
Except for any tremendous aching, this life would only be a fallacious earn.
You are just an archetypal passer-by without any aim,
You want to play an unwarranted game.
Your loudest silence is another offence,
In this horrifying reality, you are nothing but an object of pretence.
I am only a creep,
Who cannot conclude anything by hearing a beep.
I am nothing but a remiss whisper,
Who always follows the astute pied pipers.
We are the prerequisites for the uncustomary laws,
You and I are awaiting the perfect pause.
To pause for the first time is to give us a promotion,
To resume our voice is just waiting for the untold damnation.
In my feathers, you will live long,
Throughout the flight to blessed hell, you want to sing an eerie song.
You want to reside in my flawless illusion,
This unfeasible expedition is nothing but a callous vision.