a shipwrecked treasure
clipper ship on the sea floor
a pirates envy
never recovered
regaled in sea shanties
considered a myth
"You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow
by evading it today." - Abraham Lincoln
R – Recovery requires real readiness.
E – Eyes (and ears) expecting to address
C – Choices which can change a wrong course.
O – One day at a time, opening new doors.
V – Voyage with future value for family / friends
E – Eureka? no - eventual means to ends.
R – Rehab - head, heart and habits re-keyed.
Y – Yellow caution light speaks: “Watch to succeed.”
Their whispers rise,a curling flame,
Behind each hush, a heat untold.
No saint escapes a sinner's name;
Their whispers rise,a curling flame.
The tongue's a torch, it plays the game,
The truth's too young, the lies too old.
Their wishes rise, a curling flame,
Behind each hush a heat untold.
Typewrite
Pacing back and forth these keys,
Like footfalls echoing on worn-out tracks—
The sights and landmarks in languid grey,
Burning with the sting of nostalgic pain,
Faces, voices, shadows etched in memory,
Untold stories thump against my brain
Like a retroactive typewriter,
Reminding me—
With every thud of the type slug,
Voices in these walls
Strike the ribbons of regret.
Scars printed in blue,
Hurts inked in red,
Fleeting across faces and lives,
The ribbons take the beat
Of my swag and gait—
That staccato rhythm
Of a past that won’t forget.
Thud tap, thud tap, ding!
And back again—
Like my aging heartbeat
On this old typewriter in motion,
The carriage bell,
Signaling the end of a line—
A moment of reckoning,
Yet back again: the carriage return,
Resetting for the next confession,
The next scar,
Thud, thud—
Like the drumming in my head,
Tom toms telling the wind:
My past always catches up.
But now— it’s time to abandon conformity,
Transformed by verity.
I should have a screen and keyboard,
Control-a, hit delete,
Roam the freedom of a white page
With a renewed mind.
Why don't we take up our wings and fly?
away from this earth and up into the sky.
We have been earthbound for so long now
it's almost as if we've been keeping a vow.
_________________________________________
Sunflowers I kiss
This treble clef on my rib
I rest in Heaven
I saved you from myself—
from the wreckage of the storms underneath my skin,
from the dark that devours even light,
from the corpse that barely clings to life.
I set you free, my love—
like a dove from trembling hands,
watching feathers vanish into dawn,
while my soul bled quietly behind a smile.
But in saving you, I broke what was true,
for the cage was never you—
it was me, and I stayed behind its bars,
counting echoes that still whisper your name.
I doomed the heart that truly loved you,
chained it to memories I can’t unmake,
to the scent of rain on your fading skin,
to the ghost of warmth that still burns in the cold.
Now you live in peace, untouched by the ruin,
while I drown in the calm I built for you—
a martyr of my own mercy,
a savior turned sinner
for loving too deeply,
and letting go too late.
If I had known redemption
would taste like the last goodbye,
I would have chosen the fire,
burned gladly—
and let the world watch me die
loving you.
Once foretelling portents swam within the
Apogee bath.
Torn wounds in flesh,
unequip the afflicted. Lack.
Unilaterality Undesirables systematically
inspect an overture unto the future.
Incisions.
Indecision.
Discussions.
Decision.
Resolution Found between
Thigh
and
Breast Fat.
We spoke on the old West.
Distain allowed to follow
in
shadows' shoes.
Walk-
from the gravestone tomb,
Talk-
from the cemetery plot.
prefer amnesia, anesthesia, or euthanasia,
the lot.
Apposed to this undying pain,
grief,
return of
disbelief.
A contrite
Sorry resentment
Sodden in maple
Solidity.
Solidarity pushed well past
comprise while
the unconvinced so
remained that,
a sacerdotal yet
antidotal dissenter.
Go on.
Permission to let Pessimism steep in dark tea leaves.
Reverse dove beneath the San Fernando crust.
This mystic Druid
Soul searcher with windswept eyes
Beckons: come away.
Across the way, I can replay
Scenes from the past, like a wandering day
Of hope and tenderness on the blue bus
Among riders, hurried but generous.
As such stars passed through Montana, eyes stared,
With nice young men, jobless, steeped in despair,
Yet, still the road offered joy and surprises,
Bright beaches beneath friendly sunrises.
Felt like an odyssey beaming with light,
And together we basked in shared delight.
An Indigenous man offered his lore
Of fertile wild land and truths we'd ignored.
There was such shared hope interspersed with pain,
Each mile a drumbeat, each gain our domain.
My soul awakens
The mist of cosmic travel
Boundless mighty breath.
at times,
I wish to unspin the sun’s thread—
to weave again the days I’ve torn,
perfect each flaw, unmake each thorn,
and paint life’s griefs in golden stead.
but maybe, the sky must bruise to bloom,
the rain must fall to birth perfume;
perhaps the soul learns more by breaking,
and beauty sleeps in hearts still aching.
so let it be—
this endless sea of rise and rest,
of grief and gain, of trial and test;
for life, in all its flawed design,
remains a miracle—divine.
turning the seashell
adjusting my eyes
contemplating
passages unseen
inside
pushing me
down its slide
on slopes
whose whispers
surround
my ride
There was a hut in the woods
Guarded by trees reaching the sky
Decorated by the flying leaves
Tidied by the wind dancing around
I tried to reach it
I tried to catch it
And every time I got closer
It ran far far away
I thought I could find answers
I thought I'd find myself
I thought the fog would clear
I thought the blindfold could be taken off
But all I saw
Was a blurry version of me
Confused, Angry and Sad
Holding spears and arrows
Holding myself back
No it wasn't a mirror
She stood in front of me
In a warm room
In the hut in the woods
I could hear the stream and I could hear the rain
It was vivid
Too vivid
Almost nightmarish
Almost real
She had the same face
The same expression
The same dressing
And the same thoughts
Yet she stood there
All fierce and fearless
Just like the storm outside
She told me
"This place no longer suits you,
Leave
For this hut doesn't hold the answers
You need"
My word is bond, see
My palm lines don't tell no lies
The end is unknown
Specific Types of Voyage Poems
Definition | What is Voyage in Poetry?
Poems Related to Voyage
excursion, junket, swing, travel, sail, trek, passage, tour, jaunt, hop, cruise, crossing, trip, travels, boating, weekend, overnight,