travel notes

 

empty

my pockets are

not, not when red leaves fall

on fern-bogged trails, my hands gather

feathers,

pinecones,  

blue-green river 

tides, snow-capped mountains, trees,

birdsongs, sky's blue, my chest swelling-

joy-packed

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - MTB:  Cinquains Revisited, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

a one-day business trip

the train brings me

back alleys of the city buildings

graffiti walls of neglected streets

wheels bound to the south roads

i revel  at the open spaces

of fields green & yellow

of trees lording it over the

rolling empty landscape

the train brings me

to new city with different

highlights & views

the towns are small packages

to be unwrapped with care

the folks who live here

know the folks who are just

passing by, who is 

watching whom from the windows?

the train is a moving bridge

or am i the train

moving foward

and moving backward

after business is done

i note the small stores,

narrow roads, even narrower lanes

wildflowers greet you

as time slows down

my pulse mellows down to rest

the train brings me

perspective the colors of autumn

a nostalgia of the simplicity of life

in a small city & towns

but also a realization that i am

very much a big city person

i calculate the distance from home

in terms of verses i 

pen waiting for the final 

station stop

 

Posted for the dVerse Poets Pub, Poetics, Travelling by Train - Hosed by Punam.  Thank you for your visits and comments.

Travelling between cities

I.  

Sounds from mosque at dawn wakes me up.
It is the first of the five prayer times dividing time
into tidy rooms filled with mats, bodies 
kneeling, prostrating facing Mecca, the holy city.

   
     as sun circles the sky,
     i marvel at different face
     of God 
       

II. 

Here, mountains frame the city in blue
Here, deep ocean crush shells to fine sand 
Here, forest park cradles ancient totems  

    
    to highest valley
    i soar with wind, content 
    with my eagle's wings 
   


III.

Your skin is musky earth
In your native language
Even saying good morning 
Sounds like an invitation 
To go somewhere & everywhere

       my tongue rolls new words 
           no, not melted butter 
           but spice, flaming my guts- 


IV.


I saw the biggest waterfall
its mouth, a womb of life 
I gazed at fabled city steeped
in 18th century stories
I travel to know the history
of my new country - 

          still, my luggage is filled 
         with jasmine leis and one map-
         you

If I have a boat, I will sail to you

Photography:   Joel Robison

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub -  We are talking about travel poetry~  Hosted by Gabriella ~

A view of Manhattan City

If there was a spot where one can see the height of commercialism, marketing propaganda and corporate jungle... it is the Times Square in Manhattan, NY.   The consumer is assaulted by the giant billboards and sounds and images of products, concert information and what not, as one walks along the streets of Manhattan.     Broadway shows also compete for your attention.   Lots of choices to go and see and buy in this city's corner.     It is interesting to see that the people walking along the streets are mostly tourists from all corners of the world, taking pictures and videos of this well known area.  I can just imagine when it is New Year's Eve in this corner; the crowds and sounds must be 100X more intense.         

Personally for me, the most impressive thing about Manhattan are the tall buildings.   One can sense the economic power and might of these corporate buildings including the news organizations.     

My daughter was not spared the marketing hoopla.   When we entered the M&M store along Time Square, choices galore as to the colours.   The thing is, despite its choices of colours, these candies all taste the same, don't they ?  

Hope everyone has a good weekend ~

Thinking of Travelling

It is winter in my part of the world.

If you could travel anywhere,

where will you go in a heartbeat?

Picture credit: La Rocque Harbour
Landscape photography by Alex Wallace