Trip Out Poems - Poems about Trip Out

Monkey in a cage

You’ll Pick out everybody’s problems but you wont help your self 
You’d rather sit alone in pity then take care of your health
You act like it’s everybody’s fault you’ve got nothing to gain
using Magic capsules to escape your own brain
Can’t give yourself a break so you wanna do it over again 
Someone help this monkey

Was it all just a dream

Wakey wakey pinch me shake me don’t forsake me..was it just a trip..a mistake a half baked fake dream during a kip or after 46 days booked can’t be overlooked everyone letting rip..totally cooked…including us hooked into the ultimate cricketing drip

Well hard to pip 25 days play..made my heart skip, jekyll..heckle and hyde..emotions flip a

Please keep on singing

Tie me like Ulysses,
I don’t want 
 run to death
hearing those songs!
Bind me Lord!
But you keep on singing!
The sins are not yours
for the shores I crave
or the eyes I seek
or the thrills of my restless soul!
I beg you to keep on singing.

That's The Way The Cookie Crumbles

Why do we do the things we do
of all the everything under the sun
why do all those crazy things can’t ever be undone
it's beyond belief if it's not one thing it's another
between you and me don't know why I bother
sometimes we slip stumble and fall
trip tumble and fumble the ball
that's the way the cookie crumbles
why

ADHD - Don't trip up over something that's behind you

It must’ve been a season,
not your full story.
But every season builds our endurance,
another step towards the glory.
It has helped you realise, 
you need time to heal.
Sometimes we do really need to sit,
just sit and feel.
Pick up the pain, don’t focus on the lost time.
Its all a part of the plan, 
you’re going to be just

Take a Trip from Reality

Embrace the sea,
Far out, a salty binge of air.
Embrace the sea -
Take a trip from reality.
I’ll find a beach, beyond compare,
Where natives play with much fanfare.
Embrace the sea.

Coconut palms,
Port and Starboard sway, in warm air.
Coconut palms,
With their tropical-scented balms.
Cut fruit open, sip island air.
Underneath tree, hold rounded fare -
Coconut palms

Ship ahoy sad!
Steering in the wrong

1969 MY FIRST FIELD TRIP ABRAHAM LINCOLNS HOME SPRINGFIELD ILLINOIS

1969 MY FIRST GRADE FIELD TRIP TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN HOME SPRINGFIELD ILLINOIS TOMB MY FIRST GRADE CLASS CHIOR WAS INVITED TO SING CIVIL RIGHTS HYMNS MARIAN ANDERSEN HYMNS SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS CHILD THIS WAS AFTER MARTIN LUTHER KING ASSASSINATION SADLY MY IMPOSTER JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY MY STALKER MY IDENTITY ATTEMPTED TO

Road trip

Roaming the city or country roads
Only the wind in our hair
And grass between our toes
Daring to walk feet bare

The country side is beautiful 
Red roses and trees so tall
In a minute we cross city road
People everywhere having a ball

Trip to the Cemetery

As I remember, I was about six years old
the day Aunt Edie babysat.
Why weren't any of my brothers home?
Was Mom stressed with me? Maybe that. 

We talked for many hours about everything,
all that was on my mind.
I had never known a lady to be
so patient, gentle, and kind. 

Later, my mom said that my aunt was surprised
I

An unplanned nice trip

20250525
After missing the train to Swan Hill.
I went Frankston and got off at Currum station.
A local bus 833 to Lake Patterson.
Walked right into a Retirement.
I was drawn to the Patterson Lakes Village,
With the water fountains and bridges.
Then made another mistake,
Headed to Seaford Wetland.
Finally, walked on the gravel stone path,
Of the Dandenong creek trail,
Along the Patterson

Taking a Trip

Leaving home to take a trip
Invites a lot of stress,
For whether things go just as planned
Is anybody’s guess.

Within your comfort zone you know
The rules and the routines,
The details all at your command
With few surprising scenes.

Yet out of bounds all bets are off
And so much can go wrong,
As unfamiliar routes demand 
The proof that you belong.

It’s

Grannies On A Road Trip

                      Grannies On A Road Trip
            
                

The Trip Back

It was a long way home
I had wandered for many miles
Searching for that pot of gold
That’s said to be at the end
Of every rainbow

I saw a lot of rainbows
That stretched across galaxies
With no end in sight
But no hint of a pot of gold
Did I see

I encountered a lot of well-polished stones
And although there were
Well worn

Road Trip

logging a hundred miles
old camper now rusted---
each reverie...a tear
eyes moonless torn by nights; 
frazzled rites of youth's trysts ,
were never just ...road sprees

Road Trip

It had no radio
and couldn't fly at all
every wheel would wobble
because they were too small
~ red and rusted wagon,
a limo for my dog...

For Nette's Hexiline Contest
May 9th, 2025

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