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Escape Dec 2016
She finds peace when she's all by herself at the end of the day
She's got scars but the pain is the pain of yesterday,
The sound of the waves calm the noisy thoughts in her head
She likes to contemplate the colorful sky before going to bed,
She's amazed by the beauty of landscapes
She used to focus on the things that made her feel down
but now she has found a new way to escape,

She wakes up every morning and turns her face towards the sun
She goes from place to place to explore and have her fun,
her world doesn't look dark any more
she feels alive when she's looking around her
when she's taking a deep breath outdoor,
she sees something beautiful on the horizon
she finds something that makes her smile at every season
don't you know, she's an admirer
don't you know, she's a nature lover


We're looking on the same direction day and night
I wish I could see her face
when I turn towards the sun and the moonlight,
Am I going to find her where there're plenty of flowers ?
Is it going to lead me somewhere near her if I follow the birds ?,
I bet she goes to secret places
Paradise must be where she is,
She chases the things that make her dream
I know she's always thirsty for adventures
She's down to go where she has never been;
don't you know, she's an explorer
don't you know, she's a nature lover

**I would take the stars out of the sky for her.
Crimsyy Sep 2016
Browse me as an avid reader
would browse a novel;
Dive into my depths,
let me be the pair of lungs
you can't breathe without...

I don't care much to make you shout,
I'd be rather content to be
the happy sigh erupting from your mouth.
the Sandman Aug 2016
They show me vast expanse of virginal lands.
They tell me words like breathtaking and lush.
They gaze at dusty trees and sprawling sands.
They point and gasp and they hum and they hush.
They show me all of Uganda at once,
Holding the globe in their palm and their whim;
They capture it with their drones, blazing guns,
Riding jeeps that cut jungles to a trim.
Their mirrors shine brighter than all the suns
They show me with praise and awe to the brim.
They rant about how clean, and how unbound,
How pure, as they yell and laugh and drop their
Trash, but not their attitudes, to the ground.
They cut through grass and leave cracks in their wake.
They screen their footage and their findings on
Flat-screens and talk of wonder and splendour,
Five-stars in forests and lights blinding on,
Massacring on hot days in December.
People who don their hypocritical explorers' hats, and gush about new places while destroying them.
I march to a different drummer
My life it is my own
I'm an explorer of experience
That is how I'm known

I've seen snow in South Dakota
I've been on the Vegas strip
Had barbeque in Kansas
My life has been a trip

I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother... spare a dime?

I've been through all the landlocked states
Five provinces as well
I've seen Niagara Falls all frozen
I've seen it flowing fast as well

I've had margaritas in Key West
And Bourbon in Kentucky
Craft beers out in Oregon
In my life I have been lucky

I travel on my stories
Feed myself with all my tales
I'm an explorer of experience
I'm a gypsy of the rails

I never stick around too long
I don't wear my welcome out
I come and see just what I want
That's what life is all about

I've railroad friends in Texas
Some up in BC too
We've shared drinks in San Diego
And had a great Alaskan brew

I'm not one to live by your rules
I find my rules suit me fine
I'm an explorer of experience
And I'm riding on the lines

You can find me down in Georgia
Or eating spuds in Idaho
I never know just where I'll be
Until my ride begins to go

I'm a gypsy of the railways
I'm a legend in my time
I move on in a boxcar
Brother...spare a dime?
Cecil Miller May 2015
You stopped by to see me on your way out of town.
You said you were headed west because the locals were bringing you down.
As you sat across from me,
I looked into your eyes.
Then it hit, how much I'd miss my friend, as we said our good-byes.

I stood on the darkened sidewalk beneath a lamp that wasn't lit,
As you drove your car away from me,
My heart broke a little bit.
I would never tell a young man never to explore,
Because nobody could have held me back in my days of yesteryore.

A piece of me feels envy.
I'm no longer a young man.
If I were, then I would be with you,
Hand in loving hand.

Maybe once in a while think of me, When. like a stallion, you roam free.
When you kiss the pretty ponies,
Give a kiss for me.
As you blaze your fiery trail until you reach the ocean shore,
Remember that my heart is with you
And shall be evermore.
I have been on both sides of this song. Most recently when a friend went to make his way in California a few months ago. I wrote it just now in about twenty minutes. 5/30/15
TSK Mar 2015
They say the sea
is a place for freedom,
for the strong willed
and the liberal spirits.
They say the country
is a place for humility,
for the hard workers
and the level headed.
They say the forest
is a place for mystery,
for the subtle explorers
and the quietly brave.
But the sting of the salt,
the pull of the grass,
the shade of the trees,
they haunt me so:
for there is only one place
I could ever belong,
and those arms, that heart,
have long since departed.
                                                   tsk
Derrick Feinman Mar 2015
I am a grounded explorer:
I dream of travelling the stars,
but alas there are few tickets to even Mars.
I romanticize the explorers of yor,
who roamed the oceans to explore.
Oh to be with Captains Lewis and Clark,
an expedition through the wilderness to embark!
The maps are made and the earth is mapped;
The Final Frontier is barely unwrapped.
It is not a do-it-yourself sort of thing,
I cannot just into space my body fling.
To explore the unknown would yield such glee,
But I console myself: at least the world's new to me.
Bijan Nowain Feb 2015
Deep within my being
an urge to get up and go
Innate fondness to journey
a need, a want, to not sit still
Searching, seeking new places
acquiesced desire to rove
Roamer, explorer, nomad
impulsive necessity to travel
The lust to wander
Sombro Jan 2015
'She ain't much of an explorer.'

Wide eyed, stares go blind when poorly aimed
And you have had much practice,
But still, you miss and shoot wildly,
Afraid of your own fogged visions.

And how, how do you think of
All those wild horizons
Where your hero rides into the sun, but
You're too afraid to follow?

I tell you I'm leaving, you ask me, why?
I tell you I've left.
You call me brave, but I'm not.
You're just too much of you.

You ain't much of an explorer.
Another one! Another day!
MdAsadullah Dec 2014
Yes I confess, yes I agree
that I love to play with fire.
I am well aware that it can
lead to consequences dire.
Yes I know you all love me
but you all are afraid of fire.
I know that you know truth
but danger you don't aspire.
I don't blame if you all don't
want a route through fire.
Your destination through
path rosy you could acquire.
While playing I've burnt all
my dreams all my desires.
My affinity my attraction is
only and only blazing fire.
And if by chance while
playing with fire I am set afire.
And if unexpectedly I turn into
ashes by dangerous fire.
Throw it in oceans, blow it
with winds, scatter it in deserts.
Before with worldly filth and
dirt the ashes are bemired.
So that Haply some explorer
may find the truth I've found.
So that someone may smell
the truth which I've smelled.
So that some thirsty in mirage
may see the truth I've seen.
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