Best Traveller Poems
Suddenly He returned...
A lone traveller on a journey
tripping with her memory
Breezes of unsceduled joy
He blew beneath her skin
Reaching deep witihin
breathing warmth, affectionately.
He poured honey from the moon
and filled her dusk with light
Oh how He made lost shadows shine
He made rays filter through
soft as a candle light.
Oh how it lit her vacant room
and kindled in her night.
Suddenly He returned...
A lone traveller on a jourmey
tripping with her memory
Like a young first love
they danced so fervently
Like a young lost love
they parted unexpectedly
Their paths were not to meet again
beyond borders in between.
They've let their spuming stars
fade deep into the sea.
It could never be,just never be
Forbidden wants were pushed away
and so each possibility.
Yet long lived thoughts, all wordlessly
as guarded dreams roamed silently.
Suddenlly He returned .,..
A lone traveller on a journey
tripping with her memory
keeps tripping with her memory
Always in her memory....
"From deep within my heart
I always catch the scent
of my Beloved. How can I
help but follow that fragrance?" By Rumi
Drowned in delicate perfume of the gorgeous bouquet,
Glistening moon floating in sea of stars, you I see,
Smell your scent in ambrosial Chrysanthemum
How can I not be astounded with your beauty!
Found you dancing joyfully in a sublime garden,
I knew you were my Princess, like a butterfly
You left the oasis, but the alluring scent stayed,
I became a traveller in the world wandering by.
Walked tirelessly hundreds and thousands miles for you,
Crossing vast dales and tall soaring mountains far,
Your fragrance brought me back to harmony of life ,
How did I not know where my beloved were!
Farewell, o' weary traveller.
The stormy clouds now ever lift'd.
From that mortal night unto which you drift'd.
Daemons, once so fierce, shall make no further sounds.
For now, at last your sanctuary has been found.
The world around shall always pass 'n' go.
But in your name, as rose of love shall ever grow.
'N' tho' you've now succumb unto your inner beast,
Pray now sleep tight. Forevermore a spirit now at peace.
highway grinding
myway finding
mental meanderings
philosophic ideals
mirrorly miles
of reflection
passed under tired tires
Down the endless road I
Walk.
The road of life or you
May call it the road of
Torment-but know I the
Name.
Along I walk,the trees
Whistling as I journey on
With gentle breeze of the
East caressing my worn-
Out body.
Down I walk,meeting the
Hurdles of life.
I tarried,struggling and
Fighting my way;lo! Am
Stuck in despair and
Dissappointment.
Hoping for no hope to
pull Me thru.
Suddenly,I cried,then a
Saintly hand pulled me
Thru.
On the endless road I
Journey,I saw and heard
Shouts,sounds and smell
Of powder pervading the
Atmosphere:people
Running in confusion.
The sun turned red,the
Theatre bore death.
On my next turn,I heard
Moanings and sounds of
Pleasure,one beckoned
Me,icame I and took part
In the ecstasy-i realised a
Folly it was,went I on.
Passing through
esker,my Body chilled.
Then I reached a dry land
With scanty huts,wetting
My throat in a hut.
With a scorced feet,I walk
On this endless road,I
Witnessed a
gathering,Legs moving in
Rhythm and hands on
Drums,I ate and moved
On.
Came I to a serene
place,I wondered as I
sojourned,the speechless
Mouths and hands
restraining one another
To join the "lonely"body
Below.
I passed a crossed
building;hands clasped in
Gentle procession.
Moved I to pace of
Sustainance;the noisy
Atmosphere,hands
Exchanging needs.
On and on I walk on this
Endless road,when will I
Reach my destination,
When my knell of old St
Antonne tolls?
Standing at the tavern door,eyes dark and brooding
Neath his floppy hat, stared into the crowded room,
A Raven flew from his shoulder settling in rafters high,
He smiled a sardonic smile and ordered a mug of ale.
All turned to look at this dark eyed traveller tall,
His leather boots dusty ,cloak trimmed with mud,
And from his belt around his coat hung a dirk long
No one thought to say a word they tried to look small.
Around the smoke filled room his gaze did wander
Settled on a crowd of rowdy sea going lads noisly
Drinking ale and rum and telling bawdy tales,
Just back from foreign voyage across the seven seas.
Within their midst a vision sat with a smirk on ruby lips
Long hair framed her face like waves of swelling sea,
Like kelpie mane, ran that hair ,her eyes like deep sea green,
And at once his dark eyes shone beneath that floppy hat.
The night wore on, the air grew warm, the raven fluffed his wings
From somewhere a shot rang out lodging in rafters deep,
Laughter raucous and shrill cut across the misty room,
Silence fell heavy among the gathered crowd.
He slowly turned his head in the direction of the rowdy lads
Dark eyes flashed as stepped towards where they sat,
As one they rose and laughed in his face,swords drawn,
In his hand a wooden staff and they laughed no more.
Faces stunned into disbelief at what they had seen,
Around his feet six men lay still blood seeping from their wounds,
He turned on his heel and slowly went through the door,
The Raven cawed, spread his wings as he flew out the door.
Standing by his horse the sea going beauty waited patiently,
She smiled as he approached with a swagger and dark eyes flash
He tipped his floppy hat and beckoned with outstretched hand,
She went to him in full embrace held him like a band.
They travelled the land, the sea faring beauty and the dark eyed man,
Their tale told throughout the fair sun kissed land,
From village to village and taverns where seafaring folk met,
The legend grew of the Dark Eyed traveller and his mermaid bride.
Andrew Provan McIntyre © 2015.
It muddles into our time slightly
Backwards hunting immemorial time
Onward guessing on technology’s mighty
Ever wonder to ride and visit the sublime
We are all time travellers
In our dreams or in reality, we trek
Everything goes by his own caliber
In conversation, we learn at age’s beck
In some poets’ verses, they spoke
In Philosopher’s story had been told
That they did not die but blended nature’s stroke
Lost cities rediscovered in poetic legend to uphold
We see things not supposed to be that way
Structures erected in manners so occult
People behaved unusually and hear them say
Like strangers in their own time, misleading assault
Living in the moment is a wakeful existence
Fragile lives we met in unsynchronized composure
For the time being, we have been swirling in tenses
For all we think of, is our past, present, and future
October 5, 2015
I am an animated spirit,
Living in time and space of unceasing transit
I have learnt to live in worlds of diverse odours and hues
An unusual traveller, a body of unique concepts and views.
I have dealt with figures of assorted cultures,
I have smelt the soil of distinct motherlands,
I travel as an institution of philosophies and customs of my ancestries,
An unusual traveller, well preserved by my society of genesis.
I blend with different beliefs, I live with different masterpieces of the supreme deity,
I am my homeland’s tradition, embracing other’s ethnicity,
I am a glowing soul, empathetic to the altered souls coming on my way,
Yes, I am an unusual traveller, still having my aim far away.
Wherever I go, I have been encompassed as their fraternity,
Embracing their mother tongue have led me to their thoughts of divinity,
I am a messenger, appearing in one’s life for short spells,
And make my presence felt, of this unusual traveller’s.
I may be anywhere, so don’t try to discover me,
If I have not met you, I may be now in someone’s life,
If my itinerary of destiny has your name, we shall meet,
And I will be your angel, this being a word of an unusual traveller to you.
K.S.Lakshmi
You perforate my normality
with snap-shots of the past.
Images of yesteryear form
a slide show which interjects,
dove-tailing, sneaking in to
the now with the stealth of
the stealthiest fox.
Distracted from the present
my mind meanders down-stream,
pausing at a bridge arched over now
and then. Remembering when I was younger,
carefree, flitting between hearts,
scattering the lovelorn in my wake
like sown seeds, lost, never harvested.
Then flippancy of youth. The transience.
Easy come easy go -
before the burden of emotion takes its toll.
My fickle fingers touched your heart -
then dropped it, hot potato-like;
craved for then petulantly discarded,
out of fashion, gone, onto the next .....
Yet here you are merging then with now.
You found me somehow, and I you.
Back to the future. Time travelled
and catapulted into familiarity.
The perforation of normality.
Present in the present with the steel
of the steeliest fox.
A fireball sun peeked through clouds
Moisture laden cobalt blue
Rain weary traveller sighs deep
sigh, raindrops spring true
Soon apricot fills spaces within
A lighter cloud of gray
Opening up to reveal sun's
Illumination ray
Daffodils lift their heads to sun
When its clear beams exposed
Delighted to be raised to life
Their awesome colors posed
Written Saturday February 28, 2015
Traveller camp not by me
for the
night
I am but a barren and
rootless
tree
Stranger repose not your
bones at my site.
For the dream you seek out
is not
with me
The troubles you flee from I
have
my own
The warmth that you crave
for I
cannot be.
Move on for with me you
are
still alone
My shade you could take
but I
bear no fruits
Nor host bee hives to be
victuals for none
Beyond are grapes and
many shaded roots.
I'm no disciple of H.G.Wells.
But when it comes to your love,
I'm a time traveller.
Believe it or not.
Way back,
When I was hardly eighteen,
Miles apart from you,
I observed your tender bosom,
In my adolescence fantasy,
Growing silently like twin plum buds
In your village's moon-washed nights,
Amidst blinking glows of curious fireflies;
To become what I now call
My musing rabbits.
Wasn't I travelling to your future?
Now,
When I'm mistakenly addressed
By your peers as your maternal uncle,
And I make love with you
Pretending, with bitter-sweet helplessness,
I'm the boy who gave you
your first kiss.
Am I not travelling to your past?
With no offence to those
Who were before me.
I'm a time traveller.
Believe it or not.
Rolling away, strolling aside,
Sleepy contradictions drenched in gold.
An image taken, picture saved,
A tiny tribute of memory to hold.
My England. For you are mine,
And not mine. Everyone's Never.
For once would you show me shine?
A prize that I will love forever.
At the fading of the day. Twighlight.
You tend towards a deeper hue,
But I sense and behold this place,
My England, the night of you.
But why do I love you? So dear.
My fickle, boastful friend.
From sun up to sunset. The day.
Then till your night greets its end.
I cannot fathom my patriotic pride,
Yet, you simmer in the half light,
Tearing love from my insides.
To me, all flaws, out of sight.
Smokey skies. Low Fade. Soft shade.
Echoes of pastimes, inherent to history.
Night screen. Moon sheen casts on,
My starry land of mystery.
Maybe if I started to use the “he”
They’d never think that it’s actually me
Because whenever I would use “she”
I’m being a “girl”, emotional and cheesy
But, what if I use the “it”?
Could that probably mean I’m nothing?
Maybe I should not use anything?
Does that mean I should stop writing?
When I say writing, you’d think,
She’s not even one, definitely needs a shrink
But who needs one
When tomorrow you won’t even see the sun?
And long before it is even dawn
I would travel the void, all alone…
Traveller
I traverse without a clock,
Hoping the sun lingers
A little while,
As her rays accompany
My shadow and me.
The dust of the desert anchors my soles.
I hear the cutting chorus of the owls,
Piercing the silence of the air.
I do not want the wet hedges of trees;
They offer no comfort
To the bones of a man
Who never met rapture.
The cloud blushes in cheap costume
And scares the sun into bed,
Like Charlie's grandma.
Allowing the moon to watch midnight horrors,
From Neanderthal actors upon the stage of my imagination,
While I burn within my own furnace.
May you never lose your way,
Led astray by hundreds of tracks on the map
That seem navigable without a compass.
For humanity's race is a journey,
But not every terrain leads to the same destination.
I am just a traveller;
I am not a wanderer.
~ Uche Chidozie Okorie