Tag Archives: travel

arrival

the return

the final line

of empty trays

and sipped wine

.

of upbeat music

and listless smiles

we’re so close yet

we still have miles

.

the last call

the landing

of departures

and last wings

.

of blue skies

and goodbyes

we’re so far yet

it feels like the end.

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Filed under Poetry

Travel Thoughts

I’m not a fortune teller, I won’t be bringing news
Of what tomorrow brings, I’ll leave that up to you
I’m not a fortune teller, don’t have a crystal ball
I can’t predict the future, can’t see nothing at all…

~*~

I wonder sometimes, about fleeting things.

Sitting calmly and musing over tranquil thoughts on the top floor of a double-decker bus, watching tall foliage and even taller skyscrapers rush past my awe-stricken eyes, I’m basking in the excited beating of a foreign heart, a dearly beloved stranger, familiar yet unknown, warm blood palpitating fervently in a buzz of amalgamated emotions and hundreds of footsteps on the worn-down pavement. Yet I feel for my chest with a fluttering hand and find that mine seems to be dulled down into a quiet languor.

I dream of the future. And I dream of returning.

But the future tastes like a distant impossible nowhere—very much like this city that I’m currently traveling past—when the hands of my clock are still stubbornly stuck on the eleventh hour. I’m a broken compass with faded directions, and I’m never sure where the gravity is pulling the pointer towards, until I find myself lost without a second thought. I can’t ever be certain if there was even a north, south, east, or west in the first place. Maybe it’s just me and one big unfathomable plane of existence with no directions, no places to go, only nothing. And nowhere.

I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where to go.

I want to carry on despite all my crippling doubts paralysing my broken legs, but the crashing ocean is my tongue is salty and deep, and the nightingale has ceased warbling melodies in my throat. I think of could-have-beens and come-what-may’s, and I try to make it sound comforting instead of terrifying, try to convince myself that I’m going in a path that I intended to cross, and I’ll make it somehow. I attempt to wrap myself around the steady beat beat beating of this stranger they call a city, and I let the static sounds and captivating lights cradle me into its metropolitan lullaby. This is only one of the million strangers I have yet to make acquaintances with. And only a fraction of my time.

And I dream of hope. And I dream that someday, I don’t have to dream anymore.

The future is fleeting. But, perhaps, I might just have one.

~*~

This feeling keeps growing
These rivers keep flowing
How can I have answers
When you drown me in questions?

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Filed under Prose

Shades of Blue

If I do what I came to do
I’ll break through in shades of blue
In red and gold, the lights
Will flash and strobe
And I will finally know
This is my home…

~*~

the taciturn rain,

sometimes quiescent drizzle,

sometimes clarion storm

reminds me of turquoise memories

.

of electric glitter nail polish

shaded onto fingernails

pointing in the wrong direction

and chipping at the edges

.

of hair that looks like clouds

but coloured blueberry-slushie sky

and is iridescently sweet

like a gloom boy’s laughter

.

of sulky mp3 players

singing sempiternal distractions with

symphonies of dizzy dreamers

and skyward soul collisions

.

of apathetic faded scarves

wrapped around breeze-bitten necks

subtly referencing a beloved one

of the same jaded violin notes

.

of self-made backpack straps

a final flicker of glimpsing hope

before cosmic turns infinitely invisible

and footsteps cease giving chase

.

of cerulean paint peeling off bus seats

revealing a dull sheathe of grey slate

of wailing sirens intertwined with alarming red

of the ocean navy pen composing this poem

.

of the sky and the sea, melting horizon’s clarity

stark in mindless scratches adhering to scarred skin

the taciturn rain, so quiet, that cobalt eyes never noticed

coldness ceased falling, as blue memories caught up with me.

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Filed under Poetry

insignificance

You’re losing your light
Everything that was yours
Just does not exist

So don’t even try to say
Sorry for the things in life that
You might have missed…

~*~

i quietly wonder

if i had done anything

wrong to reclaim

another faultful star

.

as i stare outside the window

cascading past endless stretches

of worn paved-roads

and vast fertile landscapes

.

and everything looks transiently gargantuan

.

but i momentarily glance

at the empty bus seat next to me

and i feel rather small again

.

flimsy music in my ears

speaking of infinite sentiments

and i’m disenchanted again

these mellisonant voices are enough

they have to be enough

.

to keep my wandering mind

company against the ephemeral madness

.

i flick my red lighter open

and hold it close—but not too close

to my dying pen; wondering, for

a moment, if the same trick could revive

my spirits like the stuttering ink,

tempted to burn my flesh back to life

.

but i merely stare into the flame—

flickering unsteady still—and blow it out

so it doesn’t have to be lonely

as my heart is right now

.

as i travel from small city

to smaller town, i wonder where

all my friends are right now

how they are all doing

what they are doing

.

and if they’re all having fun

without me.

~*~

Sometimes they say this should
Feel something like fire
‘Til it burns you and you can’t
No, you can’t remain the same
Stay the same, although you know
They say this should feel something like fire
No, I can’t change…

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Filed under Poetry

Of Bards and Boulevards

I am a poet, and I am here to tell you a story.

But, be forewarned, for I do not narrate. I simply leave mischievous glimpses and equivocal fragments for you to pick up and stitch together on your own. I do not wish to be straightforward; for the better adventure is surrendered on a vertical highway. Instead I provide narrow twisted paths and interminable dead ends, unhelpful road signs and perennially blinking broken traffic lights, confusing directions to nowhere that will lead you to everywhere. It is solely up to you to decide where you shall end up, whether it be a populated city with brightly glowing billboard lights, or a dark narrow alleyway with a fetid corpse abandoned under the dumpster. The exact same steps taken can lead to either one at any given time. The travel is truly yours to pursue, and I am merely there to provide you with what scant counsel you might require, and even then, my offers of assistance might be questionable, and the information given will be more misleading than useful. For I am a poet, not a mere storyteller, and my intricate words are your only guide, your sole map and compass in this discordant infinite chaos of a universe that I have created. Never take them as they are, and pray caution, for they do not want you to arrive at your destination. And neither do I.

I am a poet, and I’ll tell you to get lost.

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Filed under Prose

Infidelity in Fast Lanes

I’ve got a question
Did you think that we would ever believe you?
And on the note of rejection
The line you walk is getting thin, so thin
Your green eyes are potent
But last night I know who you were with…

~*~

Forgive me for the blatant jealousy

I crashed under in high speed velocity

Veering wildly on a falseless hope

This is more than I could have coped

I guess I didn’t expect more than one

To shove down my throat the gun

That would cheat my arrogant death

As you’ll hold away my last breath

Splinters divine like a crimson rose

And I can’t chase your peripheral ghost

So listen up and you won’t speculate

Love the hate and fucking hate the hate

Keep nice thoughts under your pillow

We can reach the distance by tomorrow

If the western train doesn’t take a shortcut

Then I’ll lose you with all that I’ve got

My darling Texas girl, please wait for me

You’ll leave so soon enough regularly

So forgive me for the implicit infidelity

Let’s try this again more slowly, and maybe I’ll be sorry.

~*~

Go back home now and go back to sleep
And we say, go back with someone else who
Who wants you more than me…

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Filed under Poetry

Twelve Kilometres

I.) LAZY-EYED MOON

Dear lazy-eyed moon

With your golden gloom

Have you come to accompany

Me in my extensive journey?

Did you come to wink and smile

With that soft butter hue style

My dearest lazy-eyed moon

Will you stay or leave too soon?

~*~

II.) STREETLIGHT MANIFESTO

The manifesto of the streetlights

An unctuous torch flickering unsure

Sounds of rubber against pavement

And prayers and jesting alike, pure

Whence the city aspirations unfold

Into concrete and sentient dreams

Let the heavens listen so they know

This expedition is more than it means.

~*~

III.) SOLIPSISTIC CONTEMPLATIONS

What a perfect nightscape

Perhaps the blithering crowds

Couldn’t ruin this dainty tranquility

If only solipsism were allowed

Yet music’s humming in my ears

As I’m pondering with the stars

In a writhing mass of humans near

I’ve never felt so lone and far.

~*~

IV.) ABRADING WEARINESS

The abrasive blisters in my skin

Are beginning to complain loudly

Let us rest, you pompous wretch!

And my pained feet agrees wearily

The pressing people, intertwined

Of heat, sweat, and testosterone

The claustrophobia drives me mad

Oh, it’s no fun, can’t we just go home?

~*~

V.) LETHARGIC LAUGHS AND LAST CALLS

An amusement and animated conversations

Betwixt mouthfuls of crisps and a macchiato

Pinches and punches and surly fights broken

Sooner than now, it’s time for everyone to go

A lengthy travel adventure—though not quite

An exhausting walk and rarest bucolic sights

Farewell to infinite horizons of the falling night

Until the next peregrination…and pray we might.

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Filed under Poetry

★ you home ☆

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

shall i spend eternity

waiting for a sign, and

flip wishing wells down

the tarnished dimes?

doomed to wander

and to ponder and

to be rended asunder

waywardness forever?

that, i’ll accept humbly

my wanderlust, wish

of worlds in reverie

never one with a roof

but nay will you be

dragged along my mad

adventures, you ate

your fill, you’ve had

never mind the roses

that get tiring after a

bit of a while, empty

as your shot glasses

shall i wait for you to

dance the pub roam

or finish another drink?

you proclaim no’m!

perhaps i’ll wait until

you see monochrome

and pass out and then,

let’s get you home.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

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Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

Next Year

I don’t know where I
Am going to rest my head tonight
So I won’t promise that I’ll speak
To you today, but if I ever find
Another place, a better time
For that moment
I was never what I am…

~*~

Dreaming of auroras, reminiscent blooming flowers

Staring at the open window on a mo[u]rn December

Thoughts of calendar prose, painted rubicund 31st

A parched thought and unsaid words dying of thirst

.

Inhale one last midnight breath conjuring stardust

Betrayed by the shower seeds we sow, trailing rust

Fluttering fireflies make this stale air taste buttery

Her music box ballet with a fine whimsical melody

.

Those smells of coriander and angel’s breath perfume

Familiar senses of Heaven, as Earth’s gravity resumes

Van Gogh’s paradise painting, yes, but quite unfinished

Perhaps they ran out of acrylics, brush fast diminished

.

Red stripes and pinstripes blurring into a vertical mess

I’d miss those fast-dissolving days too, I must confess

Warm bodies colliding like drunken asteroids in motion

Intoxicating nostalgia, and I’m quite tipsy with emotion

.

But our hearts shall be mended with a tattered line of string

Perhaps Florence’s nightingales might return to softly sing

Warm feathery comfort, in an empty bed of cold navy blue

Vespertine reveries, and reaching out for the hands of you

.

For the roads paving way can come to a halting fork along

And I’ll sink into the soft shoulder if I stand for far too long

Decision weighed like scales, maybe I’ll take the right path

And I left with a single whisper, a lost goodbye’s aftermath

.

Destinations unravel, a hundred miles, and my feet are sore from walking

Towering skyscrapers of tough metal, low bungalows of wooden flooring

Arrow signs, highways, billboards, all leading to abandoned ghostly cities

Vistas, landscapes in verdancy, but still, you’re the best sight I’ll ever see

.

When I drape my spotted bindle and kiss away my penultimate farewells

Setting the vision of my clouded binoculars farther than it could ever tell

When my soul sheds silvery rain, and annihilates all initial pains and fear

I promise you that I’ll be there soon dear, I promise I’ll be home next year.

~*~

Maybe someday
You’ll be somewhere
Talking to me
As if you knew me
Saying, I’ll be home for next year, darling
I’ll be home for next year…

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Filed under Poetry

John Smith

“…the sky took on a wonderful deepness of blue…the jerking sun became a streak of fire, a brilliant arch, in space; the moon a fainter fluctuating band; and I could see nothing of the stars, save now and then a brighter circle flickering in the blue.” ~The Time Machine; H.G. Wells

~*~

I. SPACE

He twirled stars on his fingertips

And danced across the galaxy

Held the fragile world beneath his hearts

And that made him very happy.

~*~

II. UNIVERSE

Using a blue boat to circle the celestial colours

He always loved the stellar view and the endless allure

Wading past the milky way and the constellations suspended

And past the blinding supernovas that he created.

~*~

III. TIME

Time never really did matter much to him

They were all just echoing ticks and melting clocks

So whenever things get too awry and grim

He’d make the entire world’s breathing stop.

~*~

IV. DESOLATION

John Smith, he had it all

All the time to spend in all the universe

But one thing that caused his excitement to fall

Was that utter loneliness was his curse.

~*~

V. END

No one was daring enough to travel with him together

And no one lasted long enough to stay with him forever

So all that remains in the end is the tale of the man, lonely all through

With an empty blue boat and a sad heart torn in two.

~*~

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Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry