My heart: poetry of a faded road map.
Abstract fragments,
an out of sync word,
a line full of teardrops,
you can’t read the route.
Shifting between fonts,
abstract aesthetics,
incoherent process,
impossible signage.
Lonely cracked bridges,
resolutions unknown,
barely missing collapse,
a fickle heartbeat plays on.
On the hunt for a dirt road,
fertile soil to put a stamp on,
spirit tickled with wanderlust,
the muse revives a flatline.
A faded road map: my heart’s poetry.
I heard a song on the radio today
It piqued my wanderlust
So I'm hitting the road with a sign
That read "Asheville or bust"
So it's on with my backpack
And my zero bag
It's down the road less traveled
I am going stag
So it's "so long" to you's
The ones I watch go out of sight
And I'm looking for greener pastures
It's time to bed down for the night
So I walk on to wherever
The boundary is wide
I'll keep walking on on this Earth
Until it's time to walk to the other side
(So tell Saint Peter to take his hand off the gate
I still have some wanderlust I anticipate)
float
vanilla incense
amongst strawberry
o
m o
n ~
summer's
wanderlust
I decided to travel afar
Stressed badly on this life so far
Somewhere cosy, daisy, easy, breezy and travelling cities like I am super busy
And dancing on the open street like no one's watching
Catching butterflies and thinking I'm the new morning
Running in the field of dandelions, countryside
Strumming my guitar on the Hillside Travelling through the signals of my heart
Adding wholesale memories to the cart
Building temporary castles on the beach
till my depression is out of reach
Tall ,bare trees running across me
I am restless just like the sea
Untie my hair, dress short, still look cute
with a beautiful face , everyone's mute
From stepping on cobblestones
To singing loud in careless tones
There's nothing I can't do
and who would stop me too?
And then I open my eyes and realise it's just a dream
Oh! But dream.... Can you redeem?
I am not lost, I am just wandering
through this forest of words and lines
leading me into unknown places
and times long forgotten.
I am a wanderer, a traveler,
a seeker of beauty and truth.
I follow the call of my heart,
the whisper of my soul.
I am not afraid to get lost
within the tangled web of life.
It is then that I find my way
in those moments of wandering.
I allow my feet to take me wherever,
my heart guides me through the night.
At the uprise of the morning sun,
I'll be ready for a new delight.
The world is full of wonderful things,
and I want to see them all.
From towering mountains to endless seas,
No sight's too great or too small.
So let me wander, let me roam
to lands so far away and shores unseen.
In these journeys is my heart free
And my spirit soars high and clean.
And when I am old and grey,
and wanderings no more.
Memories then to comfort me,
my heart once more to soar.
For wanderlust can never be cured,
a constant flame of fire,
a song within, that cries inside,
longing, some impossible desire.
A Wanderlust Cerebral
A circuit 'round a star
Home of the "Ever Homeless"
Whom else could care to own less
A course that's never ended
of spirit-bliss unbarred
.
Westward wanderlust,
Wagon waltzes with Winter wine,
White watercolor walleye, windy-wallop.
Wading where wafers wage war,
Where warmth wanes without warning.
Wary whispers; weather will weather, whatnot.
Oh how she loves to journey…in her life travel is a must.
It’s one of life’s beautiful added bonuses…being born with wanderlust.
So they plan these awesome trips…and together they travel far and wide…
happily touring the country…hand-in-hand and side-by-side.
Yes, she was born with a lust for adventure…in her this need is strong
He was not born with her wanderlust…but he loves to go along.
One day she asked him…”You know how much I love to travel…
to experience all I can experience…to see all that I can see…
I don’t think I’ve ever asked you…do you love to travel as much as me….
“I look at every day as a new adventure.” He told her.
“It has never mattered what we do or where we travel to.”
“Whether we’re in the car, climbing a mountain or standing by the sea.”
Whether on a morning walk
listening to the birds
watching a butterfly or a bee….
Then he smiled…took her hands in his and said,
“All these years we’ve been together I guess I thought you knew…
“It has never mattered where we go…
as long as I’m with you.”
I wish I could wonder true right after
Wanderlust.
Hypoteneuse walking along the right angle.
Souls borne on wanderlust winds
Never their wandering fate rescind.
They wander like winds throughout their lives
Enslaved to adventure for which they strive.
Living life on its razor-thin edge
At the tip of fate’s precarious wedge,
They ride like Valkyries into war,
Not knowing what life is really for.
Some are heroes, and some are rogues
Who will constantly wring from life its most.
But, in the end, they are lusty slaves
To their itchy feet’s whims
And life’s wondrous ways.
A seagull,
Has flown,
Into the lavendar,
Sunset,
As you put a lilly,
In your evening hair,
And your love,
Has flown,
Into my soul,
With the moon,
Our love drifts,
Upon wanderlust,
Shores,
A bonfire glows,
With the night stars,
With the warmth,
Of your love,
And your love,
Has warmed,
My soul,
A seagull,
Has flown,
Into the lavendar,
A bonfire glows,
With the night stars,
And our love drifts,
Upon wanderlust shores
Reynaldo Casison
Its just me, I Can’t be still.
You gotta understand I Never will.
There’s a need to roam,
But I will keep coming home.
Deep in my soul while I travel,
I have to be free, thoughts unravel.
Crazy thoughts, being free.
It’s really me, so release me.
Bright sun in the world outside.
So never will I need to hide.
Lord, oh Spirit in the sky.
Unleash my chains, please don’t deny.
Always wandering I’m a solitary man.
No, I will never lose who I am.
Greif is part of me, fear can attack.
Solid I will stay, I won’t look back.
I was born, all the fear is gone.
Wanderlust inside me I can carry on.
Nothin shallow, feeling strong.
Through the glass to sing my song.
Wanderlust day and all night long.
I cast my shadow being strong I must.
Through the window its left in the dust.
The remnants of my sorrow.
It will be all clear tomorrow.
Like a tumble weed I will travel on.
Yes now all fear is absolved and gone.
Left behind discarded in the dust.
Now just me and my wanderlust.
I'm miles from where I was, lost at times in wanderlust
As time moves on, it carries me past no memories unjust
A beautiful disaster moving at the speed of life
Sharing a consistent companionship with strife
A sign of life underneath the emptying hollow alive in me
Good intentions are there for the taking solid in who I be
I clearly see in a different light, no denying I live in optimistic environments
My ashes will fade away like all in time, my connections lived all eternal moments
“Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this, their only chance to soar.” ~ Delia Owens
When I was born, I clung to my mother,
A little light green being,
God made me so unlike any other,
I flap flutter unmoving,
Thousands of my brothers and sisters live
With me and my mom, all green,
Dancing and swaying with the breeze active,
We rustle, bustle umpteen,
During Autumn, my colour becomes red,
And I know my end is near,
Away from mom's clasp, I will soon be dead,
There's only one thing to cheer,
Now I can go where the wind wishes me,
I will try out my new wings,
All my life passed by, content on a tree,
Now I can explore few things,
Happy, I soar, away from my mom's shade,
Journeying on a new quest,
Fly and glide over the grass and the glade,
Floating, I find final rest.
2nd January 2023
footfalls …
house to darkened house
unhurried, muffled footfalls echo,
passing lampposts shedding gold …
pool of gold …
pool of gold …
wife's hand in mine like long ago,
yes, long ago,
serene, calm dark inviting thought,
sweet memories of younger love--
we pause,
not showered by cascading gold,
we kiss,
two shadows melding, no one sees
but moon aloft in velvet sky,
broad, lofty oak limbs filtering
pale-bright moonbeams washing down,
moonlight dripping limb to branch
to naked autumn limb and branch,
crisscrossed shadows tiling
this spot we kiss
a moon-mosaic
and then we wander,
homeward wander …
pool of gold …
pool of gold …
spirits tranquil as the dark
stillness stirring reveries
while, house to darkened house,
unhurried footfalls follow.
November 17, 2022
Beauty of Night Poetry Contest
Sotto Poet, sponsor
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