Best Touring Poems
From the beautiful river Nile
that is longer than a hundreds of mile,
To the exquisite Kilimanjaro
too high for the reach of a flying arrow.
From the treasured Gold Mines
filled with gold that can make the world shine,
To the silky Sahara desert.
From the people's homely faces
exuding pride at its cultural riches,
To the glorious sunset as it drops behind the horizon
Its golden yellow truly amazing.
From the sight of deers and zebra
Beauty! That's is the mantra.
From the musical nights and moonlight stories
to the diverse and tasty culinaries.
I marvelled as I toured this African continent
Mouth agape as I savoured each moment
A muddle of voices
all crying foul
Cacophony's in now
budding diplomats howl
Scowls on their faces
deceit in their hearts
tourists buy scorecards
to tell them apart
I traveled to a land I always wanted to see.
I was on the slopes of Vesuvius in Italy.
Here I was among ancient ruins alone.
There was something strange carved on this wall of stone.
I called the tour guide to come over right away.
“I do not read Latin, so what does it say?
This looks like a poem on a wall here in Pompeii.
What did this person write on that fateful day?
Whoever this individual was, he or she was alone.
They had nothing better to do but to inscribe on the stone.”
Lena and I were now apart from the crowd.
When she read the inscription, she laughed aloud.
“We are among the remains of an excavated latrine.
What you see is graffiti that is rather obscene.
This writing is about a boy describing his girlfriend.
She had very big **** and a fat rear end.
Perhaps the gods were angry from this episode.
That is what may have made the mountain explode”
As time were spent upon thee, not concur
from some ungrateful attitude, some slur,
and then regret, my known in thy demur,
I would but think, why did I find occur
in thy occurrence, why this track impure!
With reasoning intact, I asked for cure
of all thy reasoning's slack, of its obscure,
demeaning of conditions not my stir.
As headstrong empathy, no thought's conserve
and restless with some seeking, no reserve!
No grasp to grant concurrence, no observe,
no evening's inference, no unswerve.
Between us, some referral looks for nerve,
approaching as rehearsal might preserve.
We are the least approving of our verve!
That walk-on of indenture, of deserve,
no idol with its longing can endure
in grace, outside of luring some evade.
Away from Thee, truth's hurrying might replace,
that promise of true love, God's touring base!
Allegiant Air
Was on time for a scheduled affair
Landing on the strip
Customers claiming to be here for a gridiron trip
In reality they transport a gullible lot
Visiting football fanatics who think their team has a shot
Playing representatives from the American Conference
Of the Wild Wild West
Trying to be the very very best
Silver and black they do wear
In a stadium named Allegiant Air
Guests usually invade this town
Wanting to walk around ad mist the gaming sound
Taking in a show
Before they go
Leaving diamond and hearts on the table
Acting like a man named Gable
Trying to enjoy his fantasy fable
Looking for a victory to steal
And a meal that seemed to be a good deal
Believing the whole scene was oh so real
While sitting back enjoying a nice resting feel
In the end the short junket was a worth what they paid
No matter how many illegal hits were made
In true honesty it was a nice stay
Even know the scoreboard did not flash what the visitors wanted it to say
Allegiant will be there after the affair
Leaving the strip taking off into the air
Flying high into the sky
With its passengers saying to the Las Vegas Raiders, ‘bye bye’
GOOD AFTERNOON
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.
WELCOME TO THE WORLD
OF TRANSHUMANISM.
I AM YOUR HOST
THE DAPPER RING MASTER.
ANSWERING QUESTIONS
AFTER OBSERVING DISASTERS.
TODAY WE WILL TOUR
MY STATE OF THE ART,
FUTURISTIC, LABORATORY
OF BIOLOGICAL BEHAVIOR.
HERE IS WHERE WE RESEARCH,
ALTER, CREATE AND OBSERVE
BIOLOGICAL ALTERATIONS.
IN PREPARATION FOR PHASE II
TRANSHUMANISM.
TO YOUR LEFT IS OUR BEHAVIORAL
NEUROSCIENCE DEPARTMENT.
WHERE WE STUDY THE
PHYSIOLOGICAL BASES FOR
MOTIVATED BEHAVIOUR, EMOTION,
LEARNING, MEMORY, COGNITION
AND MY FAVOURITE, MENTAL DISORDERS.
TO YOUR RIGHT OUR RESEARCH
DEPARTMENT WHERE ACTUAL
EXPERIMENTAL EXPERIMENTS
ARE EXPERIENCED.
PREFORMED BY OUR VERY OWN
PSYCHOPATHIC RESEARCHERS.
THEY ARE CURRENTLY OBSERVING
BIOLOGICAL ALTERATIONS OF MAN MADE
COMPUTER GENERATED VIRUSES.
STRAIGHT AHEAD OF YOU.
BEHIND 36 INCHES OF
GRAPHENE FORTIFIED GLASS.
YOU ARE WITNESSES
TO THE FUTURE OF MANKIND.
WHAT YOU ARE SEEING
WITH YOUR OWN EYES IS
CREATURA.
STILL IN DEVELOPING
STAGE.
THIS TWELVE FOOT
EIGHT HUNDRED POUND
LABORATORY GROWN
CREATURA IS NEITHER
MALE OR FEMALE.
CAPABLE OF WITH STANDING
TWO HUNDRED DEGREE
TEMPERATURES.
CREATURA HAS NO SENSE
OF SMELL TASTES OR TOUCH.
CREATURA WILL GROW UP
TO BE EIGHTEEN FEET TALL.
AND WEIGH OVER TWENTY-FIVE
HUNDRED POUNDS.
CAPABLE OF TOLERATING
SEVEN THOUSAND DEGREES
DESIGNED AND CREATED
TO WORK IN THE DIAMOND
MINES AT EARTHS CORE.
CREATURA WILL RESPOND TO
MANMADE FREQUENCIES.
CONTROLLED BY COMPUTER
OPERATORS FROM AFAR.
WE NOW HAVE REACHED
THE END OF YOUR TOUR.
THIS IS THE FUTURE
AND I AM YOUR HOST
THE DAPPER RING MASTER.
Michael E. Harris
09052021
Friends come gather around
There is a young soul that must be found
Travelling the air
Complaining life wasn’t fair
Trying not to scare
Being daunting
In his haunting
Only a few months old
Buried in the sands we are told
Somewhere called Beauty Spot
Liverpool ended up the resting plot
Listening to waves on Brick Beach
Learned lesson if one wants to teach
Michael chiseled on the gravestone
No mention if he fell asleep all alone
Nearly a century has past
Since the infant’s last gasp
Apparently there was trouble
At the crypt where heaven was supposed to cuddle
International war pulled up the covers
Like a loving mother
Hiding him from the enemy under the rubble
Days ago
I wanted to let you know
A lovely couple taking a stroll
Happened to wipe away natures cold
Letting the eternal story unfold
With a name marker
Situation disturbing and darker
Did God plan this?
Feeling angry showing a hiss
Coming to a decision
Taking a position
Seeing a combative vision
Soon countries would be fighting
When this lad should have been mastering cursive and writing
Attending school
Preparing not to be a fool
Getting a belt filled with lifelong tools
Sorry we will never know
About Michael’s character in the 20th century life’s show
Soon the death anniversary will be here
Hopefully closure will come giving us a tear
Thank you nice reader for the time
Entertained by my rhythmic chime
And if you do not mind
Can you spare a nickel or dime?
Place it in my hat
Just like that
So I can get some toffee
With a midnight coffee
Michael could be there
And we could share
Maybe a word or two
Before our night is through
We planned for cycling in Northern Montana
Me, Marvin, Louis, and Anna
I had doubts about them, though they were healthy
For Anna could never resist a selfie
Marvin couldn't plan, Louis attracted disaster
Mainly because he always had to go faster.
Me, my only problem was I'm slightly bats
and guiding these guys was like herding cats.
We flew in with our bikes to Glacier Park
Started our day while it was still dark
Marvin wore a T-shirt, the fool didn’t care,
Sweating up the switchbacks, in the frosty air.
Then snowmelt got him soaked, and the road took a dive
Cold wind froze him; more ice than alive
Anna asked me to take a photo with a bear
I turned around, but she was no longer there.
Just a fatter grizzly, and a titanium frame
Maybe I can sell it, waste is such a shame.
Louis blasted past a "Road Closed" sign,
Rockfall twisted his bike like an old clothesline.
(Chorus)
Don’t be like us, leave the park for the bears
From my vantage point, I can say no-one cares
What starts as a dream can get very stark
And end under a tombstone mentioning Glacier Park.
Then I headed out on 'going to the sun'
the scenery was a heartache, the riding so much fun
The slope got steep, I had to zig zag wide
A fast cyclist came down; I veered off the side
I survived, don't know how or why
But my friends had joined that bike shop in the sky.
So I'll hang up my helmet, think of each friend
and how a dream of Montana drove them round their last bend.
Tunbridge Wells a town in Kent
Traffics woe on residends '
Takes away is the only logic
Council offices in payment frolic
Causing motorists to vent '
Vacant shops abd stagnant flow
Traffic bottlenecked no go '
Monson to mt pleaasnt back
Green as cabbage, sense a lack
Sad to note that, such is so.'
Years ago, a young man in Brooklyn wheeled his bike out the gate.
His plan, to cross the land, exact route left to fate.
The first week was the hardest, scared, he doubted his quest.
It took all his courage, he says, to keep heading west.
To conquer fear, he says, we have to face it and just go.
Don't stop, commit, don't just drift with life's flow.
Ride a red road through a canyon and crest the next range.
Cross the river, flee the bear, embrace the change.
Much of bicycle touring is miserable, It's not all soaring.
Worse than miserable he adds, much is boring.
He doesn't gloss over this, he does confess.
But no better moments can you possess.
He advises you, when possible, to step into the unknown
Follow your passion, and someone might write a poem.
But while I admire Leon, and his trip does inspire.
He did ride into a real tornado, but there's now a metaphoric fire.
The jailbirds are loose, bad cartels cross the border.
To pursue freedom's road, you do need some order.
Myself, I've been warned off some roads in the Southwest.
Exploring is great, but prudence is best.
I marvel at the story he tells, of strangers trusting him.
Friends of friends gave him house keys, went out on a limb.
I admire that he could join up with new pals on bikes.
Or pause his trip for side-trip hitchhikes.
I couldn't do it, that's for sure
Maybe that leaves me bitter, maybe leaves me poor.
But the most amazing thing to me, that makes me shudder...
Is his diet on the trip - some beer, and mostly peanut butter.
Don't tell Leon McCarron that I wrote this rhyme
He had a great trip, why ruin his good time?
We know it was a great fanfare
when Elon Musk sent a Tesla car towards the stars
with a fully loaded battery
When the hoopla died down and eyes were diverted
to the everyday problems on earth
The car started by itself and began visiting planet Saturn
and little Pluto and other planets of interest
When the time is right and astronauts, say Mars and walking
down the ladder, seeing tire marks will exclaim
Truly, ancient man was here.
Viewing ancient ruins costs lots of dough
Get ready to fork it out in the thousands though
Viewing the sights
An absolute delight
Ignore the cost to visit these ancient chateaus
My husband and I love to visit
Old mansions once home to the rich.
It’s cool to see wealthy folks’ manors,
With which most people wish they could switch.
I admire the woodwork and paintings,
The furniture and the decor,
Though it’s often too showy and fancy,
Since ornate’s far from me at my core.
So I guess it won’t seem too surprising
That the rooms where at home I could feel
Are the quarters that house all the servants,
Which to me have the greatest appeal.
Much treasure lies within
a Souper's tour begins,
word nuggets to delight
arranged and in plain sight.
No digging into sand
just a day in poetry land,
such brilliance can be found
by poets from all around.
No better place to see
great poems of this treasury.
So Thank you all for sure,
I look forward to my next tour!