Best Expeditions Poems
Who was that masked man?!?
Brian Williams, rides again.
He was in Amilia Earhart's plane;
even rode with the Dalton Gang.
The day the Titanic went down;
In the rescue boat when Rose was found.
He went on expeditions with Louis and Clark.
Once gave his seat to Rosa Parks.
He was actually the first man in space.
That shadow on the moon........ It's his face!
The earliest woman, they deemed to be
bones in the desert they named Lucy.
She was his niece, tho she drug her knuckles,
so he really is a monkey's uncle!
He walked miles and miles on the Trail of Tears;
wondered the desert with Hebrews for forty years.
He dated Cleopatra; drank wine with Moses;
gave the Queen of Sheba a camel and roses.
He's walked with Bigfoot in the hills;
been bitten by vampires, but magically heals.
He has had great adventures of every kind.
He's Brian Williams; a legend in his own mind.
Maybe I can be one of those news cast stars.
This is Arlene, reporting from mars........
Couldn't resist this little tribute to the wild stories of reporter Brian Williams who was fired for seemingly padding up his stories....
Categories:
expeditions, silly, slam, drug,
Form:
Rhyme
Law began by living,
locomotion meeting the rails of electric rainfall,
Consequence coursing through interconnected crossbeams
making all form fruit of the first & final recipe,
one great statute spawned from the storm
billowing from Divinity's genius,
everything in the Universe existing to produce,
get busy, get bounce'n, grow wild & now,
receive with wisdom and take as thieves humbled by offering,
the original impulse from a manic God
pregnant from androgonous purpose,
a trillion movements in a single start, a fanatic for feral smarts,
stagnation anethema to the spectacular suspense of survival,
Natural Rights were for me
the moment my blood became mine, became a wet warlord
exerting presence in the wide open wrestle of Universe,
God the shadow & weight of my spark,
the window & scene of my good gumption, of my dusty dream,
self defense a mandate from the magistrate of my heritage,
freedom of expression an obligation humming from ancestors'
anniverseries applauded along the Appain Way headed
not towards Rome but forward to a higher home of honor,
a Law unto myself I am,
eating from the spines of lions,
sleeping atop pyramids built by a billion bones unbroken by battle,
afternoons auction affection for my amusement with discount
and the nights nudge nightmares asunder
with the release of red lightning
spelling the name of Creation in raw neon, breathtaking breakdown,
a script scribbled by a hand having the blueprint of dirt in it's fingernails,
I appeal to Adam, attest in favor of aggression's willpower,
to Eve I beseech, testify to the severity & sanction of self confidence,
let us smash all false law that stands as a wall to our fulfillment,
smack the eggshell of Man's authoritarian angst,
waking into a world of wakeful worries, confined by Common Law, U.C.C.,
walking through waves ment to wreck the arrogant
with a constitution inked by nerves electrified
by entertaining the urgency of a rampaging God,
thought of the great expanse thumping thoroughly through
the expeditions my expectations encounter,
black static undulating around the blue bulb of my brain,
sparks of ultimate consciousness mothering marks of miracles
in the becoming of birthright,
J.A.B.
Categories:
expeditions, adventure, universe,
Form:
Epic
Gritty angry surface
The diving board;
Encountered by his anxious shin
One more childhood innocence lost
Heady summer swimming
Expeditions to the bottom;
Pressure building and breath burning
Too quick to mount the board
His youthful haste subdued
Tears and chlorine
Shriveled swollen skin bleeding
No longer to be comforted by a kiss
Just old enough to be proud
Young enough to be hurt
Sitting at the edge
Stifling his pain
Categories:
expeditions, childhood,
Form:
Narrative
Gypsies
Across a misty channel
Sensor fingers
Stretch
Through foggy, silent waves
Where two souls embrace
In expeditions of speechless discovery
Two minds stand naked,
Face to face,
With wordless words
Each knowing the inner rhyme
Of another soul –
Intimate outside skin and limbs.
Across the barriers of minutes, hours, months
Two silent gypsies wander,
Through heartbeats
They stand, then gaze,
Connected to each other -
Escapees of the spoken word;
Outside the limits of ticking clocks
Two hearts touch
And see the signature of yet another
Self
At the address of the not yet arrived,
Undelivered.
Across the minutes and the moonlight
Pushing past the stealthy march of mysteries
Two fugitives flee holding hands
Leaving footprints
Escaping lines and spaces
Of a calendar;
Two almost strangers stand
At the mystic gates of the unknown -
Today’s unwanted guests
Intruders in tomorrow’s dwelling -
Thieves of time -
Fate’s despoilers.
Across the walls of midnight’s
Crumbling castles
Two wanderers peer into fleeting glimpses
Briefly understanding
The images and ghosts
Taking shape in the mist undefined;
Two stowaways crouch in secret coves,
Hidden from eyes born into mortality
In the warehouse of the borning
To see and not quite
Understand
Young future’s dance.
Across all barriers of time and space
Two gypsies touch outside galaxies to identify
Vague daylight outlines- dim midnight contours -
Embracing imprints,
Acknowledgment of events to come -
Words still unspoken;
Two souls run past the morning
Then return in recognition
For they now stand
Outside of themselves -
Vagabonds of facts
Nomads escaping demands for proof in black and white.
Great minds get the memo.
Categories:
expeditions, friendship, metaphor, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Categories:
expeditions, addiction, autumn, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Now that December has descended
with it's roots of ice and skies of snow
our timber fortress is a sanctuary of ethnographic enlightenment
and embassy that entreats the exchange of craftsmanship,
lately I have been preoccupied with my etymological research,
it is important to President Jefferson, an anthropologist
that we discover the origin of the natives through their languages,
he is obsessed with understanding the diversity of the human race
a bone collector of civilizations and shaman of scholarship,
Private Sheilds, through his blacksmithing expertise
has allowed us to barter iron for corn without which
the Corps of Discovery would either lose vital quantity of provisions,
be reduced to malnourished paupers, or even engage in unscrupulous raiding,
there are still a thousand arduous miles to go
from all estimations, before reaching the Pacific,
as is, the Elders, especially from the Hidatsas
are suspicious of our motives
because of the 18 foot high pallisaded fort we have built adjacent to the Mandans,
so mistrust is suppressed well with an open door policy
and liberal trade of battle axes,
knives, weapon and tool sharpening, kettles, needles and so on,
January 1805,
the new year has introduced 40 below zero weather, syphilis and fists fights,
to stave the ills of boredom we routinely go on hunting expeditions
through the gruelling grip of winter's madness,
another activity that warms the soul are the spectacular jamborees
that conjure the whiles of instincts
and reminds us all how the heart seeks it's deepest expressions,
Cruzzatte plays the fiddle like a tempter of lunatic love
while Silas Goodrich thumbs a mandolin into the dreams of romantic heroism,
the squaws often coo with eyes of diamonds
arms outstretched with fingers swaying like wind blown wheat,
York is a sensation with the Indians
they have never seen a Black Man before
describing him as the black clay of chaos,
they believe there is magic in his skin
touching and rubbing him constantly like a healing stone,
J.A.B.
Categories:
expeditions, adventure,
Form:
Epic
Can a man – all alone - foist a god upon his fellows
Even if it’s only himself
And they his subjects
G.. is Akbar!
Does the muezzin from the minaret of Qoutoub-Minar
look up or
down to the illiterate savant emperor
whose newly-ordered cosmos
much as Tamerlane and Genghis Khan's blood
mixed gods
invented the Gysin-Burroughs cut-up and fold-in method
a cornucopian chimera
shi'ite-sunnite-kharidjites
hindu/buddhist-jain
confucian-taoist/zoroastrian
orthodox-christian/judaic
saivite-vaisnavite
mahayanist-theravadite
shintoist-zen-chan
agnostic-atheist
A…. is Great!
In the begining there was no VERB for him
In the end
from
"brahmana" Himalayas to the "asurya" Deccan
from
Ghazna and Kabul to the spent chugged mouth of the Ganges
where bloomed the Allah-Upanishad
One common language
One uncommon religion
One classless society
One mutually nourishing art
One scientific quest
and the sweet music of friendly disputation
within then the world’s vastest book and art collection
though knowingly
took to wife an Hindu princess
chose his prime counsellor from among the Brahmin élite
where within hearing distance lithesome nymphs bathed in scented milk
his victoriously wearied warrior limbs back from punitive expeditions
through Panipat Delhi Agra Punjab Gwalior Ajmer
Gujarat Bengal Sind Orissa Baluchistan Ahmadnagar Kashmir
Khandesh
to circumscribe the sub-continent
a Ceasar at the court of Fatehpur-Sikri
Akbar is ___!
Who would parse and complete or conclude the syllogism
For « One » who dared abolish the jiziyah
Note: Jalal ud-Din Muhammad Akbar (1542-1605), the third Mughal Emperor, edicted that muezzins should herald the rising of the sun by the call: Allah-u-Akbar!
The « jiziyah » , a word of Arabic origin, meaning a tax levied on non-Muslims who wished to conserve their own property, and imposed by the Moghul sovereigns – on and off - in India, was abolished by Akbar in his seventh year of accession to the throne.
©: T. Wignesan, March 13, 1992 (from the sequence/collection: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent")
Categories:
expeditions, adventure, , atheist,
Form:
Free verse
So many years ago but some memories just don't fade.
This wondrous island I lived on is an adventure I'd not trade.
To see things now like I did then through wide and awe-swept eyes
would make me think of a bigger place yet it was a small size.
Twenty two square miles of beauty,coastline,rocky shore.
A biological station that was closed now and even more.
Where we lived a perfume factory used the passion flower.
That pungent fragrance carried through the air with so much power.
Little brother and I would run down to the cliffs below.
We'd search the horizon for ships with many goods in tow.
Deep-sea expeditions were carried out there too.
And not too far from our house was a wild safari zoo.
When we went in to St. George's town we'd wind up on the square.
It was fascinating to see the British selling their wares there.
Silks and jewelry,finest china,novelties of all kinds.
We learned to count in pounds and schillings and had to use our minds.
One day we moved back to the states but I really missed the island;
the cobalt skies and azure waters and crystalline pink sand.
It was a child's paradise with plenty of wonderful things to do.
Those memories have lasted a long time and will forever it's true!
Categories:
expeditions, adventure, beauty, children,
Form:
Rhyme
Copper blooms, titanium too below the iron of the sky
Rich fields of ore, quarried, lay everywhere without a quarrel
In conjunction with all things shiny on the land and rust of day
Mountains pinnacles are miles high
With gold draped cliffs of drifting yellow beads of brass
Green vegetation grows around them to quell their worries
Reaching to be free from electricity, thermal conductivity
Streams that run along the fields of metal valley mines
Gray with aluminum strands soft and solvent
Punctuate the landscape up above
Anodizing, analyzing, thinking they are zinc
So much of zinc below the solid surface riches
All this to be discerned by proper science expeditions
Metal machines gather what they need to feed their kind
Golden days, silver nights, tongues of tungsten
Wrap themselves around themselves for warmth
Metalloids are not yet born or forged
Malleable to shaping when they come
Some nonmetallic friends stop by to see the young
Marble and silicon are spies
Disclosed, exposed as such
Despised, disposed of for their corrosive side and lies
Platinum dressed in blue arrives
Stays to take a smoke or two
Smoldering in a blistering sun
Smelted, furn-aced for the future
To be tempered into something smooth
To contemplate the truth with other alloys
Query how all metals can be used
How Earth can hold itself together with the ores
Both in the ground and in the metal fields outside
To lay aside barren lands their souls in sun for warmth
Metal-tate a way to feel the force
They carry on and need no water
Of course rocks are most jagged and driest on mountain tops
They yield the finest metals, minerals at their pinnacles up there
And where suns furnace first glowed on
Touched the tip of Earth
Up there still, refines, defines the metal fields
9/22/14 Pinnacle - Poetry Contest
Categories:
expeditions, creation, earth, imagery, life,
Form:
Free verse
A drought ridden land
And miles and miles yet to go
Into uncertainty
A dream lost in desert sands
All tracks of existance wiped out
--------------------------------------------
Ein ausgedörrtes Land
Und noch Meile für Meile zu gehen
Hinein ins Ungewisse
Ein Traum verloren im Wüstensand
Ausgeöscht alle Spuren des Seins
--------------------------------------------
Una tierra secada
Y milla por milla para ir
Hacia lo desconocido
Sueño perdido en la arena del desierto
Todas las trazas de ser borradas
Note: Ludwig Leichhardt (1813-1848) was a German explorer, zoologist, botanist and
geologist. In 1842 he came to Australia to study its mostly unknown nature. He wrote a
diary on his first expedition (1844/45), titled "Journal of an Overland Expedition in
Australia 1844-1845. This ebook is available from the Australian Explorers Journals page.
His second expedition in 1848 failed and he started again on a third expedition in 1848 to
find a cross-country route from the cattle station McPherson (Queensland) to Perth
(Western Australia). He and other expedition members were lost in the desert. Two rescue
expeditions in 1858 ans 1869 ended unsuccessful. Only in 2006 a small copper plate was
found by an Aboriginal with Leichhardt's name engraved fixed to remains of a half burnt
rifle which hung in a Baobab tree near the Simpson Desert. The tree was merked with the
letter "L"
Categories:
expeditions, historylost, tree, lost, tree,
Form:
Tanka
It was a romantic endeavor
this quest for vaporous ridges,
as an adventurous spirit crested
already reaching dizzying altitudes,
short of vital breath & intensely high,
yet, there was no returning as the
summit was a mere birds-eye view,
it was the last chance to achieve
brass ring elevations mid skies'
survival beyond boundless frontiers,
towering strength and determination
overcoming fears whilst lack of oxygen
was a matter of achieve/die, win/be buried
ultimate goal was furthermost zenith, 'til
Mt Everest in its infinite nature took grasp of
life and climber's deathly eminent boundaries,
while its unreckonable power commanded an
unsurmountable frigid avalanche 'neath violent deadlocks,
encasing tombs of unfulfilled loftily dreamt expeditions
Categories:
expeditions, adventure, courage, dream, endurance,
Form:
Epic
It sat on Miss Ruth's desk, a sphere of intrigue and wonder.
'Twas a globe that in my reveries I'd gaze at and ponder.
It depicted marvelous vistas that seductively beckoned me,
And lit a fire in my youthful soul for places I yearned to see!
How my free spirit longed to escape her penetrating eyes,
And sail upon the foamy seas or soar thro' pristine skies,
To mysterious far-away lands of which I could only dream.
The globe hypnotized me as it basked in the sunlight's beam.
Ah! To scale the heights of Mount Fuji in beautiful Japan,
Or travel the rugged Khyber Pass in mysterious Pakistan.
To glide past ancient, majestic castles on the River Rhine,
Or visit holy places where Jesus walked would truly be devine!
I daydreamed about a safari to the nation of Mozambique;
I pined to see Mount Pelee Volcano on the Isle of Martinique.
The Egyptian Pyramids along the River Nile I must also see,
And Holland's windmills, tulips and its famed Zuider Zee!
What exotic places Casablanca, Istanbul and Athens must be!
And I want to see the lovely islands of the Caribbean Sea.
With glazed eyes I'd fantasize about world-wide expeditions,
'Til she'd wake me from my trance with scorching admonitions!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
expeditions, placesme, places, river,
Form:
Rhyme
Yellow pines swaying at base camp,
early October morn greets the avid hunters
with its autumnal briskness, waking any
sleepyheads who are stirring under covers,
generators humming away at varying speeds,
smell of frying bacon and sizzling eggs,
add to the aroma of the great outdoors.
Pickup trucks filled with camo-clothed hunters
traveling along the bumpy, dirt roads climbing
higher and higher until the clouds meet the hunting
grounds full of meadows creating a thick mist,
shrouding all in sight including the hunter and
the hunted creating specters among the
remnants of forest fires from years past.
In the ghostly distance, shots echo throughout the air;
did someone shoot a lone elk left behind by its herd?
On target----a proud first-time young hunter and his dad
walk through the brush to discover their next larder,
the meat is prepared, tagged and transported home for
future meals and discussions of the first successful hunt
which remains with the youngest son for his entire life.
Stellar Jays flying overhead at base camp observe the
hunters who returned empty-handed but not disppointed,
in the evening a campfire glows warming the circle of hunters,
sharing stories of expeditions as old as their grandfathers and
as young as their grandsons till late at night until the fire
is doused with water and the air smells of wet smoke,
a reminder of crawling into a sleeping bag and dreaming of elk.
Categories:
expeditions, nostalgia,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Men have searched throughout history
For a city made of gold
So much in fact it has become legendary
This city that has yet to unfold
Some have even died I am told.
The story says, a chief had an initiation
Covered in gold dust and jumping
A lake bottom became his situation
Now known as the golden king
Where is El Dorado they would sing?
Legends grew from a king to a city
Spaniards knew this gold had to be won
Expeditions to discover it were plenty
One such Conquistador even discovered the Amazon
Female warriors there had them on the run.
If you have not guessed this legend yet
It is El Dorado or City of Cibola
That all were searching to get
Nicholas Cage tried finding it in the cinema
A fake explorer made the most pesetas.
Categories:
expeditions, adventure, fantasy, historycity,
Form:
Quintain (English)
Hang-gliding over a lava-spewing Hawaiian volcano
Flying a two-seater through the eye of a raging tornado
Bungee-jumping from the top of a skyscraper in Dubai
Crossing a bed of coals barefoot on an LSD high
Prying open the jaws of a vicious crocodile and peeking in
Leading the army of Latvia against Russia, expecting to win
Competing in triathlons on consecutive days, back-to-back
Crossing the Pacific Ocean on water skis, carrying a knapsack
Making expeditions to the North and South Poles in the same week
Learning to speak Latin, Vietnamese, Chinese, Swahili, and Greek
Riding a camel across the Sahara Desert in mid-June
Wrestling an alligator, porcupine and angry baboon
O, Bucket List, Bucket List: Who could ever complete you?
I'll just take care of my family instead ~ I won't even need you!
Categories:
expeditions, adventure, endurance, family, how
Form:
Rhyme