Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#tourism
In Gilroy they sell garlic Garlic coffee, apples, ice cream, and cookies In Deventer, the colours are yellow: mustard, tongues, and beards the asphalt, roses, and the sun paintings in the museum dogs, clothes, mustard everywhere mustard soup, salad, beans, tea, and eggs They make a living from it, they are what they eat, they would like to be named Garlic and Mustard to compete with Hamburg Tabasco, Sardinia, Nîmes, and Genoa Badminton, Bikini, or Cyprus at the least But in the competition of interests these dreams are far too big although the world is getting smaller maybe small enough for Deventer to be a theme park with nothing but books and mustard, a fairy tale where everyone is welcome to dream away a day
0
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 4:37 AM UTC
Being an extra where you live
Taking off make-up after the tourist season -- How old the town is!
0
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 4:35 AM UTC
Taking off make-up
Archaeologists of our time examine the exposed sand between the foundations for the future Retro is modern cars are banned tourists consume the old town Big money flows outside the city centre Within the canal district permits are skimming it Residents are leaving the harsh world of stone, glass, and concrete they veer to canals with islands of greenery, to boats and houses with hollyhocks on the facades and gardens on the rooftops
0
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 3:56 AM UTC
Living on grounds, streets, and quays
The almond blossoms: everyone comes here to watch! Cars! And radios!
0
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 4:20 AM UTC
[ The almond blossoms ]
When you go boating, you are part of the city- scape that others see.
0
Jul 1, 2025
Jul 1, 2025 at 2:12 AM UTC
[ When you go boating ]
We do fitness on the canal: we pedal hard -- to see the quaysides.
0
Jul 1, 2025
Jul 1, 2025 at 2:11 AM UTC
[ We do fitness on ]
Steps shimmer beneath the bushes, a carved staircase -- Once used by tourists.
0
May 18, 2025
May 18, 2025 at 3:26 AM UTC
[ Steps shimmer beneath ]
You hear the echoes of guides everywhere, despite -- the signs 'Silence Please'.
0
Nov 26, 2023
Nov 26, 2023 at 2:39 AM UTC
[ You hear the echoes ]
No fast traffic here no high steel and concrete in the streets, but walkable space The sun draws attention away from us, towards the light on the black facades on the harbour the white cornices and red tiles: the picture for the photos of the tanned tourists on the terrace of the tanhouse who walk into our gardens as if we live here in an open-air museum and should praise their silly insolence as a decent interest But we can live with it The visitors walk around in a parallel reality and we have real neighbours a wide sky, the wide water and the green island We can breathe here as the wood breathes in the seasons as the wind breathes in the grass
0
Sep 27, 2023
Sep 27, 2023 at 3:31 AM UTC
Breathe
It is empty on the Grand Square The guide tells about the past His words blow over Birds above the roofs, white clouds it takes a long time until we go for a drink In the café we cross over in each other's language to the streets where we live and everything is the same in a different way We sing along to the songs of our teenage years and toast the world that is becoming ours I stall for time, don't want to let go of the guide, I'd like take him with me and show him around my own city let him see with my eyes after seeing what he saw not knowing what he was thinking
0
May 13, 2023
May 13, 2023 at 3:42 AM UTC
Cross over
Tourists are a plague, going further and further -- they keep crossing lines.
0
May 13, 2023
May 13, 2023 at 3:36 AM UTC
[ Tourists are a plague ]
~ *precious metal detector of tourism, as in a dream, such device has the power to make one nostalgic for places either never visited or nonexistent. this strange museum exhibits sometimes airplanes, always mortality salience, and the impossibly probable idea that travel can change your sense of time, so you don't really mind if things slip away, or alter in some disenchanted way.* ~
0
Aug 21, 2022
Aug 21, 2022 at 12:21 PM UTC
Airport Terminal 2
Lawrence Hall [email protected] https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Welcome to Stoplight, Texas Shopping * Fine Dining * Antiques * Friendly Folks Annual Ye Olden Days Friendly Frontier Cowboy Festival Visit the Friendly World-Famous Parking Meter Museum We’re Your Friendly Hometown Family of New Friends Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Drive-Thru Only Line Forms Here One at a Time Cash Only Road Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Drive- Thru Only Line Forms Here One at a Time Cash Only Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed Road Closed Cash Only Closed No Restrooms Restricted Hours Dining Room Closed Lobby Closed, Closed, Closed Y’ALL COME BACK SOON!
0
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 9:42 AM UTC
Welcome to Stoplight, Texas
- video— https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPiIEcwoDHM __O__ne is supposed to sleep with the intention of repairing the mind and the body of all those ills encountered in daily life, but This night was not one for rest. I think the clock was reading 9:53 last I had glanced, but it could have been 3:59 or sumthin. Anyway, my eyes opened to the stature of a very tall and muscular fellow holding a pitchfork to my side. He said "Miss Seranaea Jones, you have been selected to participate in a wonderous event. Your going to tour the finest Pits of Hell and all of the recent improvements. Satan has"personally" endorsed this invitation to you, so we must be on our way !" I think at that moment I said, "its not done yet, let it cook a while longer". I was not really capturing current events, so he jabbed that pitchfork deeper and pushed me right off the bed. Frickin hurt too, so realizing that this was gonna be a non-negotiable parlay, I agreed to his terms. (or "It", I dunno... this dood was holding a pitchfork on me and I couldn't find my gun) We went outside to his vehicle. It was Hottest **** thing I ever saw ! We got inside and I was surrounded by blinking indicators, computer graphics and some serious leather seats and solid wood paneling. He said "Please fasten your seatbelt, it is not currently permissible to have you killed". I said "Thanks" with a fearful stare of a chicken being held by its throat. He started the engine and Ohh !!!— such an immaculate sound emanated from it. With one pull of the gearshift we plunged STRAIGHT DOWN. Before I passed out I saw what looked like platoons of dragons in formation poised to venture upwards into to midst of the Earth. My last element of memory was of cheeks rippling with the force of acceleration. Having survived the trip down to the Negative Pearly Gates, the next thing I knew I was in a fish and ski motor boat cruising the River Styx. Had all those extras too, depth finders and flat monitors that surrounded the driver position— the screens were filled with the ****** * ummm— wished i had not looked into the rear view mirror, looking back was a version of myself as some mummified shriveled past-tense Seranaea  "thing"—                                       — ughhh* He pointed to the sign at the entrance. It looked new enough, but was marred by bullet holes and deep scrapes. It said—                        "Ye who enter, Abandon All Hope.                               ATMs are available inside.                                         No Smoking"   He said "My apologies for the condition of this entrance, we just recently had some particularly unruly admissions". I nervously nodded, thinking on how unruly I was upstairs to have become a Hellbound tourist. The next thing I noticed were the creatures in the water, their mouths gaping wide, wrapped by bedsheet-white skin tightened around skulls and pairs of hollowed eyes. They were screaming knives into my soul. My captor said "reach into this bag and throw one of these out to them"   It was a bag of charcoal briquettes, so I took one and threw it. One of those creatures snapped it up and then slipped back underwater. Cool !! I did this a number of times, skipping the briquettes and watching them get snatched as like so many minnows gulping down bread crumbs. I was really getting the hang of it by the time I suddenly Slipped And Fell !! –splashing into the water as these things start immediately towards me, reaching for new flesh with long sharp Nails When I— 4 AM Woke Up ! Wet— wrapped tight in a bed sheet— peppered with blacken  fingerprints... *think id better be a good girl from now on !!!* s jones 2007 .
0
Oct 31, 2021
Oct 31, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
Seranaea goes to Hell— A Jones Hallo-weenie
- video— https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPiIEcwoDHM __O__ne is supposed to sleep with the intention of repairing the mind and the body of all those ills encountered in daily life, but This night was not one for rest. I think the clock was reading 9:53 last I had glanced, but it could have been 3:59 or sumthin. Anyway, my eyes opened to the stature of a very tall and muscular fellow holding a pitchfork to my side. He said "Miss Seranaea Jones, you have been selected to participate in a wonderous event. Your going to tour the finest Pits of Hell and all of the recent improvements. Satan has"personally" endorsed this invitation to you, so we must be on our way !" I think at that moment I said, "its not done yet, let it cook a while longer". I was not really capturing current events, so he jabbed that pitchfork deeper and pushed me right off the bed. Frickin hurt too, so realizing that this was gonna be a non-negotiable parlay, I agreed to his terms. (or "It", I dunno... this dood was holding a pitchfork on me and I couldn't find my gun) We went outside to his vehicle. It was Hottest **** thing I ever saw ! We got inside and I was surrounded by blinking indicators, computer graphics and some serious leather seats and solid wood paneling. He said "Please fasten your seatbelt, it is not currently permissible to have you killed". I said "Thanks" with a fearful stare of a chicken being held by its throat. He started the engine and Ohh !!!— such an immaculate sound emanated from it. With one pull of the gearshift we plunged STRAIGHT DOWN. Before I passed out I saw what looked like platoons of dragons in formation poised to venture upwards into to midst of the Earth. My last element of memory was of cheeks rippling with the force of acceleration. Having survived the trip down to the Negative Pearly Gates, the next thing I knew I was in a fish and ski motor boat cruising the River Styx. Had all those extras too, depth finders and flat monitors that surrounded the driver position— the screens were filled with the ****** * ummm— wished i had not looked into the rear view mirror, looking back was a version of myself as some mummified shriveled past-tense Seranaea  "thing"—                                       — ughhh* He pointed to the sign at the entrance. It looked new enough, but was marred by bullet holes and deep scrapes. It said—                        "Ye who enter, Abandon All Hope.                               ATMs are available inside.                                         No Smoking"   He said "My apologies for the condition of this entrance, we just recently had some particularly unruly admissions". I nervously nodded, thinking on how unruly I was upstairs to have become a Hellbound tourist. The next thing I noticed were the creatures in the water, their mouths gaping wide, wrapped by bedsheet-white skin tightened around skulls and pairs of hollowed eyes. They were screaming knives into my soul. My captor said "reach into this bag and throw one of these out to them"   It was a bag of charcoal briquettes, so I took one and threw it. One of those creatures snapped it up and then slipped back underwater. Cool !! I did this a number of times, skipping the briquettes and watching them get snatched as like so many minnows gulping down bread crumbs. I was really getting the hang of it by the time I suddenly Slipped And Fell !! –splashing into the water as these things start immediately towards me, reaching for new flesh with long sharp Nails When I— 4 AM Woke Up ! Wet— wrapped tight in a bed sheet— peppered with blacken  fingerprints... *think id better be a good girl from now on !!!* s jones 2007 .
Continue reading...
44
Welcome abroad Thameslink. Grab a camera a wink at Shaftsbury’s bootylicious dancers. Pen in gear and know the answers to the parade of pub quizzes. Let your strands of raw seismic frizzes scream on bonds lightening Thames RIB. The Louis Vuitton wallet ‘on fleek’ for that crib inside the Shards slender diamond belly. Feet stay in groove with that Kidston welly against the roaring mud at the wireless festival. Pre dem soulful struts of de Notting hill carnival spicy spirits, nani wines and **** kisses. Safari hunt watch out for those hisses on centre stage of the primeval in the zoo. Grab my hand and come on boo steady your bags and steady your feet on the thrilling ride of Oxford street. Reminisce its entirety and say goodbye. As we take in our final view on the London eye. Justine Louisy Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016 All Rights Reserved
0
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 2:19 AM UTC
My holiday of.....
Dear diary; I have thought a lot about leaving this all behind and buying a one-way ticket to anywhere where no one knows my name. I want to forget who I am and lose myself in another's culture. I want to stay until I tire and do it all again somewhere else.
0
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 6:48 AM UTC
Diary Exerpts #28
The robed and turbaned guides lead us Station to pillar to post Here the last puddle of sacred blood outlined in platinum, There the stray knotted whipstroke picked out on the Mudstone wall in jasper and rarest peridotites - Change yer shoes for the final hill to the death sanctum, Last sonatina set to begin, with eye max. But, but here monsignor, what’s this minor Scatter of comic beaks ‘n bones off to the side in shadow, This fouled corner irrigated by ninety-nine generations of Three faiths and their pets? - Pay no ear, it’s got no voice or at most The scalded steamkettle hiss of a dying gull, Was never no human language Nor saw anything really seen And those what claim to have dug up gored pieces of value From under there just kissed the *** of madness.
0
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 9:12 PM UTC
Escariotes
Dreaming of the never mind --the burden of proof my thoughts struggle over if it was even such a thought. It's in my nature --the uncertainty --the clutter of an empty space begging for stronger remembrance: like signal to noise. Even in the harsh light it casts unknown shadows causing me to turn to something more tangible --people, places, and things: the ones I can criticize or stylize, hold in my hand, crush with my fist, kiss with my lips --honing it down until a kernel of something remotely mine. Then I smile at being a tourist in my own mind: Paris syndrome: litmus test: that disconnect between fantasy and reality, fragment and rumination --It's right there now on the tip of my tongue.
0
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 3:45 PM UTC
Signal to Noise
Tourists are sniffing the holiness of the church – they make it thinner.
0
Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 6:17 AM UTC
[ Tourists are sniffing ]
In the evening, the river is a theater the water carries the music to our ears, the romance of a saxophone, sunset twinkling in the wine and the church rosy, completely gentle grace Tourists pretend click clack that not they, but we, are the extras and the city were a cardboard set: theme park Paris l'amour young people on the quays around a pillar candle and kissing couples as it should be in the sunthrowers of the tourist vessels gleam the spots in the corners that you can smell
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC
Paris l'amour
Cordoba is home to the largest mosque in the world, The Mezquita's architectural splendour is a stunning monument to behold, It is a confluence of Jewish, Islamic and Christian trinity, Whose influence through the ages will stretch to eternity Swarming with tourists be it individuals or groups, Who throng the roads through which they incessantly troop, The multi-cultural mix is what makes the sight so appealing, One cannot but experience the inescapable joyful feeling As one saunters through the must- visit touristic Jewish Quarter, The innumerable winding lanes and by-lanes really do not matter, Rows and rows of shops have a wide range of offerings, All that one needs to do is spend without bothering It's a gourmet's delight at restaurants when it comes to variety, One needs to go through the menu card in it's entirety, The trick is to experiment with different types of food, Hopping in and out of eateries makes you feel so good The sweltering heat does little to dampen the enthusiasm, People go about their work with no less dynamism, The famed Spanish siesta can still be seen at play, With shuttering of shops and offices just past mid-day With tourism a major factor contributing to the economy, It is important to underscore the need to live in harmony, This trait among people is so blatantly on display, An ingrained culture preserved till this very day
0
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 8:18 PM UTC
Captivating Cordoba
Matchsticks used and burned to black Stand amid their brethren tall Through Mount and Vale Their limbs compete To reach into Heaven's seat Merced flows and bubbles past Bird and beast both heed the call From Bridal Veil Is river born To reach for the Distant Shore Stare in awe! El Capitan, Mighty Chief, above them all The peak unveils Yosemite In its natural majesty
0
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
Yosemite