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Best Explorer Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Explorer poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of explorer poems written by PoetrySoup members

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The Best Explorer Poems

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A romantic dream

This world can be cruel 
and people unkind 
but love is a jewel 
Each of us can find 
Desperately lonely 
He's feeling alone 
The explorer is searching 
For someone of his own .

He'll search forever 
If that is what he must do 
To build a life together 
With the love he feels is true
Through disease and sickness
Heartbreak and pain 
Once his heart is given 
In love he'll remain.

So he travels the oceans 
Across borders and skies 
Following his heart 
For its there all truth lies
Time has no meaning 
Forever has no face 
Be it determination or dreaming
He roams place to place .

If his heart is to be sated 
He'll find what was meant to be 
So long fate has waited 
To find love eternally 
Then they'll build a new life 
Into the country they'll flee
A simple man and his new wife 
Escaping life's misery .

In the midst of a forest 
A new log cabin they erect 
Building a new life of beauty
Built on love and respect .
Families will grow strong here 
True love will thrive
They will work together
For the rest of their lives .
True friends are welcome 
To visit our idyllic scene 
We'll even help them 
If they wish to share in our dream.

For any poem#17
Sponsor Poet destroyer A

Copyright © DARREN WATSON | Year Posted 2014

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School boy lessons Erotic Humor

She said "I'll show you mine
if you're willing to show me yours."
I didn't waste a second
I promptly dropped my drawers!

I was rather embarrased
She looked and started to giggle
My little man was at attention
While the boys  did their jiggle

After she stopped her laughing
I thought it would be my turn
Me an eager student
willing and able to learn

In the end I learned my lesson
She wanted to look through my tests
But my young mind was occupied
Transfixed by her beautiful breasts

So I quickly pulled up my pants
Time to put the two boys away
My little man sadly shrinking
Disappointed that he couldn't play

When she seen my embarrassment 
She said "okay come have a look."
Please let it be her Yoo hoo
and not just some silly book

Holding out the band of her panties
She said "go ahead and reach in"
I was a happy explorer
Extreamly eager to begin

As the girl started moaning
I was sure I had got it right
She said "if you want to find it,
perhaps we need a little light."

So she started undressing
A vision there before my eyes
Her breasts a bit of perfection
Perky and just the right size

She said we'd have to work quickly
Before her parents came back
She pushed me down on the bed
and promptly began her attack

With force she ripped of my trousers
Thankfully she knew what to do
I let her have her way with me
The boys were no longer blue

She looked at me with a smile
Told me "it's time for you to go.
The next lesson will be better,
I'll teach you how to be slow!"


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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Rainbows for black space

I wish to hear   your Mew tonight, sweetheart
With hairs untied   to nestle up against you
All cells   gonna sing in bliss
Let   me feel your strength
Take   all of my tenderness
We    will originate new cosmos
Will present rainbows   for its vast black space

I want not to count stars, sweetheart
But to be joyfully two of them
Then   to be just one star together
One ardently flaming tropical Sun
You are  a reason to deviate from line, a season for quick heal
Infinities discoverer, supersensible provider of Peace

Oh I need    to hear   you roar tonight, darling
We    gonna play fervently like wild lions
Never getting tired    and getting tired
Just be   just feel
Do    nothing outwardly
Then    we gonna melt down like snow
And flow in springs    through fragrantly blossoming fields

You are   strong poison for killing guile, honey,
warm season to my heartbeat, explorer of singularities,
creator of Masterpiece. Let    me feel your strength
Take    all of my tenderness
We   will infuse cosmos with colors
And blottesque rainbows    across its empty black space

Mar. 2016

Copyright © sala mandra | Year Posted 2016

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I'd Love To Be.....But!

I’d love to be a model
Tall and thin like Jerry Hall
But I like fish and chips too much
And I’m only five feet tall

I’d love to be a dancer
With poise, and style, and grace
But I was born with two left feet
And would end up flat on my face

I’d love to be a climber
Scaling mountains in one single bound
But I get dizzy in high heels
So I’d best keep my feet on the ground

I’d love to be an athlete
With medals of gold on my chest
But it takes all my breath, to run a bath
So relaxing at home is best

I’d love to be a painter
And have works of art hanged in great halls,
But the only paint that I can use
Is emulsion you slop onto walls

I’d love to be an actress
Starring on the silver screen
But with my memory, I’d forget the script
“What was I saying?” – see what I mean

I’d love to be an explorer
Through untamed jungles I’d caper
But I love the luxuries of life
Like hot baths, and toilet paper!

I’d love to be a poet
And write my own anthology
But that’s just another pipe dream
So I’ll have to be, just me.

Copyright © Janette Fisher | Year Posted 2009

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Under the Sea

What lies beneath the water green
in the deepest depths of the sea?
How many things we've never seen
or ever dreamt there'd be?
Things to surprise you and me.

What lies beneath the ocean waves
farther down than anyone's ever been?
In coral or reefs or hidden caves,
are there creatures we've never seen
far below the waves of green?

The ocean fascinates me more
than tales of outer space.
So many things on our planet to explore
before we leave this place.
So many surprises here to face.

I'd love to be the explorer who
discovers the secrets of the deep.
Is the bottom of the ocean green or blue?
What other secrets does it keep?
What treasures are there to reap?

Atlantis or monsters of the deep,
I long to know what's there,
I'd be so joyful I would weep
if only I could share
the knowledge of the wonders there.

Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2011

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Little Giants

		The child is a poet with innocent eyes
		And a bumpity A-B-C rhyme,
		A dancer whose feet with the rhythm of life
		Move in jubilant one-two-three time.

		The child is a doctor who heals with a kiss
		And treats with a serum called smile,
		A researcher who seeks out the meaning of life,
		Then explains it with unflinching style.

		The child is a chef who makes sandwich and Kool-Aid
		And thinks it a royal repast,
		A hero who battles the monsters and villains
		And renders our land safe at last.

		The child is a teacher, a sleuth, an explorer,
		Controller of race car and ship,
		Possessor of limitless spirit and mind
		With holster and gun at the hip.

		Reflections of children shine pure in the eyes
		Of those who are watching them grow,
		Remembering times when the sunrise meant journeys
		To lands where adults cannot go.

December 3, 2018-----This poem was a first for me--the first ever accepted for publication, MANY years ago.

posted on June 23, 2015

entered in Skat A's Premiere Contest 16 on January 29, 2018

Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2015

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A Journey Through Eternity

What is the point, what is the reason 
For a new beginning- fresh Genesis? 
To grow, expand; explore new regions, 
And find the path that leads to Bliss? 
What will come; what is to be? 
(Such a fleeting, elusive answer!) 
Who could Love this Monster in Me-
A Creature full of Hate and Anger?
Mary Shelley- her gothic Horror,
With Percy drowned at Sea!
I am my Soul's sole Explorer-
A Journey through Eternity...

Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013

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In inspirations meadow, the soul roams freely through imaginations
Timeless thoughts, here I’m a boundless spirit soaring in flights fantasy.
Kicking the stardust from the night’s eternal sky, a solar kindred
Dreaming the endless dream of freedom’s spiritualism without 
Reservation’s containment barriers!
Lost amongst the universal tides of a vast divide, set adrift 
A castaway seeking adventure beyond my earthly bondage,
A poetic surfer climbing upon the curved edge of inner spaces
Eternal ocean of the undiscovered!
In splendor’s paradise, I’ll sway in harmony’s breath taking brilliance,
Spell bound to the shine, bathing in the shimmering mists of beauty,
A spiritual voyager dangling without tethering’s anchor,
Sailing with my solar sails spread wide open, catching the winds
Of the sun, to the final joinery’s end, come what may beyond 
The point of no return, fearlessly facing into the distant horizon!
Shall I not float, within the debris fields remints and ashes, just a flickering
Amber burning brightly asunder, a positive to the negative particle,
Shifting, swirling, pondering my own wealth to existence, nay
A spent solar flame, shattered by times lapsing riptides!
Behold I’m just a daydreamers lost child of thought, oblivious to the stresses
Of the conscious mind, a frozen sleepwalker whom refuses to awaken, for 
Here the bard is set free, to ponder within inspirations meadow
I’ve become a futuristic sailor of fortune, floating on the musing
Surface of inspiration, gliding across the glittering waves, chasing after
The morning sun rays that blaze in the warmth of the light reflective!
At shores landing I’ll roam to the rambling beat, exploring this meadow
Of evergreen, dancing barefoot and fancy free, feeling the wet dew
Between mine exposed toes!
Call me the mistress castaway, for wild abandonment shall set this 
Wayward soul free at last, to experience the fragrant mysteries of 
Inspirations meadows, and gather the wild flowers within mine own
Bouquet of spiritualism forever in clarity’s vision, just to marvel
Amongst beauty’s natural essence of existence!
I’m the wonder lusting poetic heartbeat of a rambling spirit,
Always seeking, always searching, never settling for whatever
Others may say is the final journey’s end of the rainbow, no
I’m the slider explorer riding on the eternal light beam that
Cascades from the inspired heart, never to be captured, or locked
Away in chains of acceptance, for the human experience is just
To short a journey not to be lived, shared and enjoyed with
Every breath that one soul can inhale, and exhale with lives
Enduring spiritual flame burning brightly, within inspirations meadow



Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2016

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Kind of Thought

Kind of Thought

Kind of thought about and contemplated
How a roaring fire becomes acclimated
Where you sit around and get used to of
Like so much and eventually fall in love.

There are things about fires that are roaring
When available, they are completely adoring
Especially If preferred name is Poetry Explorer;
One I make for her will be a big roarer.

Then also in you must start to confide
Be sure to take all of this in stride
So simple may be my benevolent words
They love being heard in great big herds.

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2014

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Paradise In A Dream

Paradise In A Dream

There is so much weighing me down
The daily toils of doing what others want
Screaming kids fighting all day long
Another four hours of Dora The Explorer
Trying to cook dinner with nothing in the cupboards
Every member of the family wanting something different
Hot dogs for the youngest
Mac and cheese for the little girl who won’t eat anything
Cheese steak sandwiches for the adults
There is a fashion show on the TV for my wife
The basketball playoffs can wait for another day
I haven’t seen a Celtics game in more than ten years
A fuse blows in the middle on the evening
Those basement stairs were not meant for a man my size
Finally the time has come for a peaceful sleep
Until my daughter finds a monster under her bad
Screaming and crying while I scare the monster away
I close my eyes as the moon rises
The witching hour when the dead rises
My dreams take me away to a paradise
The tropical sun tans my half naked body
Naked women chase each other on empty beaches
No kids, no wife and no fashion shows
Too bad morning and another day has to come
Too bad that I love my wife and kids
Otherwise I just might stay asleep

Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2012

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A first-grade teacher gave her kids a list,
five words and definitions for the week.
This study got across the basic gist
and spelling of the terms but failed to pique
real interest. They soon would comprehend
the teacher’s higher purpose was to show
that “neighbor, bully, hero, stranger, friend”
named types of people every child should know

about. To get the get the point across, she had
them use the words in sentences to cite
examples. Many named their mom and dad
as heroes. Others named the ones who fight

in wars, police, and firemen. Then she read
a set of sentences that made her cry.
Bob wrote one sentence with three words instead
of doing as she said, but she saw why.

“My neighbor is my friend and hero. When
my dog got lost he found him! Sometimes school
is hard. He helps me with my lessons. Then
he takes me fishing Saturdays. He’s cool.

My mom ran off when I was only three.
My dad is like a stranger. He don’t care
about me and sometimes he bullies me.
My neighbor cares about me and he’s fair.”

Your real-life hero when YOU were a child--
was it a nurse, the one who made the goals,
a soldier, an  explorer in the wild,
a caring neighbor with two fishing poles?

November 21, 2017, entered in Silent One's Hero Poetry Contest


Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2017

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This one is for you

  From time to time I find myself staring into the heavens lit by our stars
The elders spoke of each star having its name, and how God knew the all by it
  At a very young age I grew much interest in adventure, to be an explorer of such
Dream after dream, a huge imagination for images costed no money, dreams of much
  I lived by my creativity and will to be strong
Not many believed in me
  Some of which even put me down, stateing that I was worth nothing
With a shattered heart I saw the days evolve into night
  Patiently awaiting the sight of the first star
Dropping to my knees making a wish upon the first star in view
  Who would know that the stars grant no wish
My first language was spanish
  Not a single word of english or french I spoke
Growing up in grade school, I was the cause of many jokes
  I had not much but a few rags that I kept clean as best to my ability
Shoes with holes made my month
  None mattered because the love I searched was not of school but of my own home
Always been so different
  A mind of a genius
The will of a warrior
  But the love of...
When the tide is high swim not
  For a tormented sea might just never return you
I play guilt
  Guilt I know not for I made it as best I could
Sing me a song that I may sing to
  Paint me a portrait so that I too may loose in the form and color
Write me a poem so that I may see it play
  Pardon me for not being what you wanted me to be
Pardon me for being me
  I hope one day you may forgive my life
I meant no disrespect, what did I ever do to you
  You abused me and stomped on my heart
You punched my soul right out
  I'm sorry for not being you
And I pass to find my joy
  I will live to meet my future
This one is for you dad

Copyright © Edward Orozco | Year Posted 2009

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Such Majesty There, Where Nature's Beauty Abounds

Such Majesty There, Where Nature's Beauty Abounds

There it was deepest beauty all the way around
Whispering winds echoing most colorful sounds
Like a vision from a very passionate dream
Earth, sky unified into giant flowing stream
I lone interloper into majestic views 
Wanderer drinking in, birds, trees, overhead blues
A pilgrim self-sent on my first real Nature quest
An awestruck fan, praying to be its welcomed guest.

Old leaves crunching loud under my invading feet
Pondering, is this any great way to first meet
Speaking soft to critters, as they scurried away
Assuring forest, destruction is not my way
Following along winding ancient woodland trail
Heart, mind and soul under beaming Nature cast spell
Around a narrow bend, climbing down small stream bank
Stopping, kneeling, drinking and giving God my thanks.

Stepping across stones, over waters crystal clear
Thinking if this would be destroyed, my new deep fear
Over to yonder hill, small saplings at its base
Magic colors sing, behold such infinite grace
Suddenly a rush, as swiftly away raced deer
All three knowing the truth, do not let man too near
Watching as they flew and jumped over fallen log
Each springing up and over like a leaping frog.

With such majesty abounding, soul wanted more
Grateful mind promising, to come back to explore
Bring along my best camera to pictures take
Save all to a pretty Nature scrapbook then make
With purest joy, I turned to trek my way back home
Adventurer, seeking under Nature's green dome
Finally arriving at my car at sunset
Explorer thinking this is as good as it gets.

There it was, deepest beauty all the way around
Whispering winds echoing most colorful sounds
Like a vision from a very passionate dream
Earth, sky unified into giant flowing stream
I lone interloper into majestic views 
Wanderer drinking in, birds, trees, overhead blues
A pilgrim self-sent on my first real Nature quest
An awestruck fan, praying to be its welcomed guest.

Robert J. Lindley, 9-10-2018
Rhyme, ( Remembrances Of An Early Fall Nature Trek)
Finished and edited from an earlier version written in 1977.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

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Mother Nature's Tapestry At Her Best

She is an unsung, unaware, unbridled, unsuspecting scene, deep in the woods, lost in time.
Not ventured into by hunter, or explorer for nigh onto thirty years, full of undisturbed cobwebs,
Large, and beautiful, intricately built by joyful diligent spiders, who have orchestrated them as delicately
As a maestro, taking their sweet time, using inner knowledge to enthral and entrap their prey.
Birdsong lullabies rarely glide through this forest, but the hoot of an owl can be heard nightly.
Wolves, skunk, fox, and beaver, do not notice the owl any more, focused on scavenging and hunting.
Raccoon and opossum scurry in the underbrush, hesitating only when encountering anything strange.
The mirrored pond, where animals gather, but only with their own kind, is the focus of the night.
Opalescent reflections of moonbeam light her, a beautiful contrast to the shadow dreams of the trees.
Mother Nature’s tapestry at her best, she will instantly enchant anyone brave enough to venture near.
Her affinity with twilight spirit, and her joy of being undisturbed, and undeveloped, keeps her safe.
She gathers her sleeping menagerie to her breast, watching them sleep, unsung protective mother forest.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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Friend - A Gift to Self

A friend I'd like - someone like me
Fun and cheeky, full of integrity.
Gardening lover, nature attuned
of life's useless baggage pruned
perhaps also a crafter of words
Enjoying too, the flight of birds
A hawk winding a spiral on the wing
is a particularly magical thing.

So here be a quirky, crazy, active sort
Uses gift of the gab in glowing retort.
Nature guardian and explorer of seaside pools
Crafty proponent for reading the rules!

Written 15 June 2018 for Contest: Qualities you admire in Friends

Copyright © Virginia Waters | Year Posted 2018

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                                          THE ISLAND
                      On the island people used to live
                        Trees used to grow
                       Animals used to graze
                      Birds used to fly
                        But it never sinks!

                       There comes an explorer
                     A white man from Cuba
                      Who also wondered
                      Where did this small piece of land came from
                       But even the people who stay there
                       Did not know the origin of the island
                       At the center of large waters
                       Fully loaded with trees
                       Fully loaded with animals
                       But, it never sinks!

Copyright © kelvin maluki | Year Posted 2014

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In The Library

Immersing myself into the realm of its existence
Like time travel taking off,  I can go  anywhere
At times I read its books, I’m in state of ebullience
My imagination transcends  far beyond any frontier
In my journey, I’ll never be  a glum book lover and explorer

My skills and vicarious experiences effloresce
Being  inspired, uplifted...I feel others’ stories and sentiment
In  solitude, I also find contentment and happiness
As reading  enthuses...manipulates the intensity of my temperament
So, I bask in the library for more knowledge and sense of fulfillment

©2015Leonora Galinta
     All Rights Reserved

August 15, 2015   10.55 pm

Sixth place
Contest: In The Library
Judged: 8/26/2015
Sponsor: Poet Isiah Zerbst

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2015

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David Livingstone

Long, long ago and longer
When I was but a child
I read of Doctor Livingstone
Who ventured in the wild.
Dr. David had no fear
He went where few had gone.
This missionary and explorer 
To Africa was drawn.
The unsophisticated natives
Didn’t know the wealth they had
Allowed Livingstone to name their falls
When he shouted out “Egad.
I’ve found what no white man has seen
I name it ‘Victoria Falls’”.
When back in England he was touted.
But lack of adventure palls.
He was sent back to Africa
To find source of the Nile.
He traveled around that continent
And became lost for a while.
Henry Morton Stanley when he found him, said
“Mr Livingstone  I presume?”
He died in the heart of Africa.
Westminster Abbey holds his tomb.

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2012

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                  Most Momentous Majestic Monitor
                  Anytime Affirmative analyzing accuracy
                  Top Trainer tuning treating talent
                  Humdinger Hero having highest honor
                  Excellent Explorer explaining efficiently
                  Marvelous Methodical Mind Mender 
                  Acquisitive Analytic approaching applying accuracy
                  Terrific Teacher thinking tutoring tactfully
                  Ideal Instructor initiating intense intelligence
                  Capable Cultivator countering correcting chaos
                 Sagacious Systematic Scientific Searcher sorting solution




Copyright © Anisha Dutta | Year Posted 2015

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The Explorer

...and then just as suddenly, constellations appeared in a daytime sky, framed by white pines crawling with multicolored caterpillars.  So from this day forward, they would search the sky for more star pictures. They then would draw pictures of what they saw with a mixture of ash and spit on their fingers on pink leaves that fell to the ground. They would all participate in the gathering of pink leaves, which they stitched together forming blankets to cover their humble homes, and their village had a pink glow.  Their homes were as nests, or more similar to large hammocks, consisting of branches and bark lashed together with vines suspended from the heavy limbs of the tree canopy.  Their homes swayed in a light breeze, creaking as they moved, and were festooned with blue, red, yellow and purple feather plumes, floral chains, sea shells and gemstones; along with the pink leaf blankets they resembled some extraordinary species of giant hanging flora, which attracted a variety of butterflies, and many small rodent-like creatures ran about. There was much activity in the trees above as they would hop from limb to limb, and home to home, visiting with neighbors and conversing through animated head, facial, hand and body gestures, with much whooping, or whistling sounds, their whole person seemed engaged in conversation.  It was a wonderful and amazing sight to behold, I found the scene so engrossing that I immediately wanted to leave all that I've known behind and immerse myself in their uniquely intimate culture.  I felt as though I'd discovered a new home.

Throughout my journeys I had completed several small drawings and paintings of the various sites that I'd seen, and reasoned that this might be a fine way to communicate and introduce myself, as I was sure they would recognize what I had put down on paper.  I set down my pack and retrieved my paper and pencils from within. I settled against a tree and began to sketch the scene before me.  Soon the noise and activity from the trees above grew quiet, and as I looked up the entire village had come out to the tree limbs and watched in silence as I worked on the drawing.  Then, as if on command, they all descended from the trees and surrounded me in an instant. The speed at which they moved in unison startled me, but I soon discovered there was no threat.                    

As they huddled around me, softly whistling to each other, they held open one hand to reveal a wriggling brightly hued caterpillar. Then they each blew a light breath over the creatures, and it melted into a moving, shifting pool of color in the palm of their hands.  They each dragged a finger through the color, and raising their arms, with a colored finger extended; they held it to the sky.  In the next moment they each bent over me, and wiped the color on the drawing that I had begun. To my astonishment the color moved across the page completely on its own. New worlds opened up, revealed to me, as their spectral markings merged together into watery pools, then formed drips, streams, rivers with rapids, waterfalls, and gorges emptying into estuaries, seeking their own path of least resistance as gravity pulled this way and that, and then churning, and bubbling up in clumps, oozing off the surface in a tremendous mountain slide.  I saw the opened shape of a mouth, or a great hole in the earth, which I looked deep into and could feel and see myself looking back, then puckered, shut tight, blending and separating like ever changing oil on water, flares would rise up from below and burn for a time until they subsided; then cracked into an infinite array of minuscule fissures becoming a frozen ocean, solid and immoveable in a kind of death.  As I watched, it seemed as though hours had drifted by, which I soon realized were mere seconds. 

Copyright © dennis jones | Year Posted 2015

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Call It Nostalgia

Space Hoppers, Power Cuts, Texan Bars & Playschool,
Record Players, Tiny Tears, Ford Capri’s (I thought were cool),
Bag Puss, Mrs Thatch, Wonder Woman, Rainbow,
George, Zippy, Rod & Jane, Bungle - have I got them all?
Dial A Disc & Rotary phones, Vinyl Records, Space Dust,
John Travolta, Happy Days, Dolly Parton’s HUGE bust
Tape Recorders, TDK’s, Top 40 taped on Sundays
(Chatting ‘bout what’s Number 1, when back at school on Monday) 
Baby Cham, & Chopper bikes, lava lamps and Spangles,
Fondue Sets, & Mateus Wine – (you tried your best to wangle)
Nitty Nora (the bug explorer), Izal toilet tissue -
(was unforgiving on your bum, and gave you  ‘other’ issues)
J.R., Dallas, Dynasty, shoulder pads & bitching,
AIDS, the brand new STD, much more than just an itching
Grange Hill, Zammo, Heroin, ‘Just Say No’ they sang
Jools and Paula on The Tube, with up and coming bands
Rubik Cubes, & great big hair, Roller Boots & Pac Man,
New Romantics everywhere – Spandau Ballet, Duran Duran
Frankie Says, & Ra Ra Skirts, odd Fluorescent socks
Red Hot Chillis, posing nude, (‘cept socks upon their c**ks)
MADchester & Afflecks Palace, Bez in Happy Mondays, 
Shaking his maracas - (looks like every day’s a fun day)
Acid House, illegal raves, yellow smiley faces
The strangest craze in 89? – Grolsch tops on Brosette’s laces
So many happy memories, you took for granted then,
A shame you can’t go back in time, and live it all again,
Will our kids look back in time with fondness like we do?
It seems that culture lost its way some time in '92...

Claire Bowl © 2014


Copyright © Claire Bowl | Year Posted 2014

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Starry Night

diamonds sparkle
upon the black velvet
heaven awaits the explorer

Copyright © Frank Polgar | Year Posted 2013

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Wut Up Miss Queen

How have you been, it's ok to tella
Explorer of the sea, like me can't you see
That Brooks and Paris need some money
Please support our trip to the far east
On the search for gold, spices, and peace
Make an alliance, no more will be deceased
And then with all your glory, power will be released
Now of course you know, I'm a man of navigation
We'll be chasin a new Spaniard nation
No hesitation just regulation
Make a fresh start on a new foundation
No more waitin, this is your chance
Travel be sea and not by land
I promise you we will do the best that we can
And once we succeed I hope you understand
That you will be the most famous queen of all time
Please Miss Isabella, I do not have a dime
Instead of a letter, I'm sending you a rhyme
It sounds a bit better, and rappin's not a crime

But enough about that, let me tell you this
If my directions are right then we will sure not miss
If no corrections are made then I can surely list
A whole scroll full of demands cause we'll be so rich
And I'm not just sayin that trying to be modest
I'm telling you the truth, I'm being totally honest
Nobody else can navigate even as well as I can aim
And once we reach and claim
We'll put your name to fame
Our route is better planned and leadership's a must
In my eyes, we're the only two that you can trust

Let me explain in detail exactly what we need
A whole bunch of sea men and a couple ships indeed
We need a lot of food, and of course some vitamin C
Just to make sure the men don't get scurvy
We need some beer and wine, some utensils to dine
A whole lot of rifles for men on the front line
Acceptable weapons win the battle every time
And I need a lot girls, bout 39 would be just fine

Now my time is almost up, you just need to know my route
We're gonna sail round Africa and take the passage south
And then we'll sail around and finally reach the Asians
That is when we'll start the new Spaniard nation

Copyright © Wade Greenlee | Year Posted 2016

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Viv Wigley - for contest

Well, what can I tell you about both my names?
I'm not quite sure where I should start,
'Vivian' means 'lively' which raises a smile
to friends of this tired old fart.
It's not very common as names for men go,
and famous Vivians very few
Viv Richards the cricketer and Vivian Fuchs
the explorer, they're the only two.
My surname's from Derbyshire, Wirksworth, in fact,
all sweat and pickaxes and fire,
and I now don't think my forename is that odd
with an ancestor named Obidiah.
My forebears were lead miners, hazardous work
with poisonous ore and rock falls
and looking back over my family tree
I'm surprised that I'm here at all !

23rd November 2015
for contest 'What's in your name', sponsored by C.T

Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015

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Treasure Map

Once upon a time there lived a very curious
boy called Simon. He was the grandson
of Sir Walcott, a great explorer. 

Sir Walcott had traveled to Americas, Africa, Asia and
Antarctica. Treasures he discovered like gold,
rubies, emeralds and diamonds made him
very rich. The Queen honored his discovery
of new worlds and treasures, and knighted him.

One day, when he reached home from school,
Simon saw a big, white envelope on his bed. Quickly
he opened it, only to see an old map. Behind it
was written “This map will guide you to the greatest
treasures the world has ever known”.

Secretly Simon left his home in the deep night,
and headed to places the map showed. He found
gold chests, Sword of Excalibur, Lost City of Atlantis,
magic beans…..  The more he discovered new things,
the more he became tired of looking for them. He
wondered what great treasure the map was talking 

Bored and frustrated, he sat under a tree and started
to cry. His tears fell on the map, only for the map
to glitter! Then a voice came from the map:
“Don’t cry little one….you are nearer to the treasure
than you can ever imagine!”
Simon wiped his tears, and looked at the map,
as though it was a ghost. The map was actually

The map told him that he would become much
richer than his grandfather, if he discovered
the greatest treasure of them all: happiness,
which could only be found in the heart.

The map told him he had found happiness
the journey, enjoying to pass through jungles,
deserts, and ice planes. Enjoying to see animals
he only saw on TV and magazines. Enjoying to see
new kinds of people with different cultures….

Happiness, the map told him, wasn't in the treasures
like gold, but in the hearts. Simon thought for a minute,
and realized he actually enjoyed the adventures more
than finding the treasures. He was very excited he had
discovered the greatest treasure;
the bliss and thrill of living!

The map then turned into a flying carpet,
and took him home. 


Moral of the Story:

Happiness is not found in wealth or riches. It’s found in life in the form of family, new friends, new places, new languages, all in all encompassing the thrill of living each day.

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016