Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Laura P Apr 2020
I just want to be on the cliff at Tintagel
Looking to the castle, & Merlin's cave.
Or Bigbury beach, on the sea tractor.
Or hanging off a rock at Peak District
Or hanging off a tree in Holborough

Maybe further afield than England,
Coffee with her at Montmartre
Or hiking in the regions of Inca
And bathing in coves of Costa Rica
Or climbing pyramids of Cancun

A list of things to do once lockdown ends
Katlyn Orthman Mar 2020
Broken hearts and shattered dreams
All fray away with unraveled seams

Long for the day to be set free
In wanderlust out by the sea

Listen to the waves they crash and pull
Like musical tunes the sounds will lull

But lonely hearts travel alone
And nowhere ever feels like home

Not out by the vast blue sea
Or in the depths of ripe green trees

These places won't remember me
As lonely hearts are never seen

Not by the eyes of passing souls
Or by the eyes who make us whole

No, lonely hearts must pay a toll
Oh, where do the lonely hearts go?
Ayn Mar 2020
I’m sitting in a nowhere,
No life, no sense of flair.

Life bustles all around,
But it’s all a monotone mound,
There’s no variation to be found.

New places,
New spaces,
And new paces
Is the basis
For a mind in stasis.

So i might stop this mope,
And put a wayward hope
Into a little elope.
Maybe I need to travel. I conformed my desires into this rhyme, and I mean it when I said conformed. It’s another forced poem.
TS Ray Feb 2020
I was once in a desert,
traveling in void when the wind was blowing dirt,
sand dunes never wavered me,
cold nights did not trouble me.

The well nearby did dry,
water and thirst had come and gone by,
living this way could not be a high,
words alone are not enough to cleanse a sand kissed eye.

Sun and moon came and went,
nature was no longer revealing any imaginary bent,
how to persist when this desert has me spent,
who knows tomorrow an oasis may spring near my tent.
TS. 2020.  Poem about nothingness.  When nothing comes to you, what do you write on?
Mitch Prax Jan 2020
You say
it’s too hot
to see the sights-
that’s okay,
because baby,
none of these sights
compare to the sight
that is you.
Mitch Prax Jan 2020
I want to hold your hand
through foreign streets
and kiss you under
foreign skies.
Baby, we're just two foreigners
lost in foreign lands and
lost in each other's eyes.
Mitch Prax Jan 2020
Dear Diary;
now that the dust has settled
I have realized that
all I want to do is
work,
travel,
work,
travel
to distract myself
from the joke that is my life
Next page