"caravan" poems
i
give me my lifes´
the day crowded bright
and the night sumptuous..
give me my pretty wife
where love at first sight
bind us..
give us two souls blithe
fused as light within light
sweet bounteous..
let us soar and dive
like content swallows might
time in lost happiness..
( and let trouble and strife
bind-us the more tight
like our first kiss..)
give then to two one life
white to white
whole as stars
as love unto death
might break apart
and ride the cosmos..
ii
the jonah by james herbert
a heist goes wrong and a colleage
is shot..
just another debacle for our hero
in a long list
that has him transferred to the
drug squad and east anglia..
to live in a caravan..
keep his eye on the locals
and drink strong beer..
ellie his partner
makes him eat
and they fall in love
though various tentions rise
due to his troubles..
some flash backs
a left baby in a toilet
sadistic stuff at the orphanage..
bullies and dodgy collars
his step father is strict
he is an ornothologist..
there are drug related incident
a dead vole
a us pilot bites the farm..
some little boy thinks he
can fly..
the water supply
some pilfering
some heavy knocks
some bad lies
some kitchen
small potatoes
but all part
of mr herbert´ s charm..
a huge storm
the spooky old mill
a wild trip..
and regression
bad men
bad men..
lot´ s of struggle
the raw products
towed in by trawler
assembled by the knights
torn
and a lost twin..
a monster in the flood
where others die
a maitre d..
a ***** salesman and
his girl in a caravan
the fishermen..
helicopters and
victory for
the forces of good..
and the jonah
gone and all
is light..
the end..
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
Games between Earth and another space world
But it’s Level 2 through 5 in swirl
Various games testing your ability to win
‘It’s all levels calling the stops at the very end
The wrong Earth message sent to unknown space
It’s the Earth from the outer world of space who wants to erase
It’s the video games of commerce and the Earth responding in defense
Strategy with a theory of game perfection
Knowledge with the power in how one will win
It’s was all the past thinking comprising from then
Level’s up and talent of one’s hands
Video movement and watching with keen control commands
Making elevating scores being a caravan
Earth being on an objective move
The other world with wizardry in fool on the top of being cruel
Professional video game players becoming their own challenge in saving the world
The outer world being defeated and their resources depleted
A delete on the outer world terms
Think positive in knowing you have achieved and the welcomed honor to proceed
Video games being one’s pure success, but those who can conquer are the masters who are the best.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
"Wonderer, worshipper, lover of leaving -
It does not matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come,
Even if you have broken your vow a thousand times.
Come, yet again, come."
-Rumi
Lover of Leaving.
I wonder where that comes from.
Abandoning ideas,
or the idea of abandoning people.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
Jade helm
"Mastering the human domain"
It's all about control
Controlling human beings
And enslaving us
In the one world/new world global government
Information collection
Pre-crime technology (minority report)
System has no empathy or remorse
Self organizing, vision capable, expectation capable, recognition capable, situationally aware, emotionally intelligent, goal oriented system. The system, thinks, plans and executes.
Back in the late 80's MIT students developed AI technology on a distributed network (CGI lamp taught to dance). It Learned and evolved in 24 hours what would take 1,000 generations to accomplish. They issued a warning of how dangerous this technology is to humanity.
GEOINT
--Jade 2 plus more
--Communications
“smart grid, meter, etc"
Will be connected to this system
Control the environment
“Microchipping”
It Surpasses RFID technology
RFID chips can be removed
Nodes can be removed on a network--unplug printer
Human beings used as nodes
Eliminate connectivity to global information network
Cash removed
One world government
Domain--Human dynamics, terrain, geography
Domestic threat assessment centers
Activity based intelligence
All aspects of human activity monitored
All collected data to be geolocated
And tied to a specific node of the network
Georeferencing
do you will it
will you do it
it will do you
All three of these phrases
Have equal value
In this system
Which is very dangerous!
**Generate answers to questions
That haven’t been asked, or never existed in the first place
“Ominous” A.I.**--according to the source
Gates and Zuckerberg--want to bring technology to third world nations
GEOINT--Collect all data--for human terrain map
No privacy--no encrypted data
Welcome to Orwell's 1984, Skynet or The Borg
Sci-Fi was telling us what would be the reality
Emotional responses trigger the system
It feeds off of fear and anxiety
All the social networking--facebook, etc
All that info has been collected
Placed into this GEO INT system
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 3:09 PM UTC
122
A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.
A something in a summer’s noon—
A depth—an Azure—a perfume—
Transcending ecstasy.
And still within a summer’s night
A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see—
Then veil my too inspecting face
Lets such a subtle—shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me—
The wizard fingers never rest—
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes it narrow bed—
Still rears the East her amber Flag—
Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red—
So looking on—the night—the morn
Conclude the wonder gay—
And I meet, coming thro’ the dews
Another summer’s Day!
7.5k
You carry a weight that's so heavy
A caravan filled with so many
You journey along, the sand is your song
And heat filled with sun rays aplenty
With your guidance we soon will become
Unified with God's grace and God's love
Your knowledge is great, sufficient in strength
Standing small as you tower above
You feel pain just the same as we do
You will cry tears of sadness for you
Tune into the light, your spirit is bright
You reflect what sunlight shines in you
Teaching us to heal and to move on
Even dark times when sadness has won
To listen up close, is what I have chose
Especially when life comes undone
Spirit Camel, you never run dry
Capabilities keep you alive
You're a natural at heart, playing the part
Mother Nature intended you by
To ride on with you makes me feel safe
With you there is no rush and no haste
Taking our time, learning how to decide
With a rhythm of peaceful-like pace
Self sustaining without an ego
Spreading love every place that we go
We survive day and night, sharing your plight
We are one with your wandering soul
As your milk provides food for your calf
You have cared for us on your behalf
Without a complaint, and in your restraint
It appears that you smile and laugh
You must see how humans sometimes seem
Like a nightmare and not like a dream
Yes we can be, idiotic you see
We have so much to learn from your scheme
I am honored to know you great one
May your message be carried with love
Through winds and life's storms, may we be reborn
With your courage and gentle wisdom
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
its unmistakable
not just another caravan of faces
not just another passing year
under a strange sky
iv reached the edge of the world
nothing but open sea to my back
as far as the mind can see
and i'm riding a west wind on a quickness breeze
on a middle of the night skiff
to the the small island
where she waits for me
where she sleeps tonight
the bold song gone soft an slow
the guarded smile relaxed into a champion of joy
and conquers all her sadness
with a single tilt at the windmills
like a knight in shining armor
nothing but deep sea
nothing but night salt and sea
and as i draw near
she sings from her soul to mine
come to me lover
laugh
yes cry out loud with all your joys
laugh pure and easy
i'm the mood for you boy
i'm in the mood for your hand in mine
dance in my heart
its a warm night in the tropics
and we got the world to ourselfs
so may i have this dance
spin
dip
ballroom of sand
laugh with me
run with me
we are free
all our lives people have tried to put us away
keep us down
now look at
dancing in the stars
look at us free and easy
dance with me baby
make love with me honey
on this ballroom of sand
laugh pure and true
with simple joy
here by salt and sea
be young with me
tonight on this ballroom of sand
come home to me
warm me with your touch
comfort me with your eyes
iv waited so long come home to me
nothing but open sea at my back
and i feel so alive
i feel so free
and my lover is near iv never been so alive
running a western quickness breeze
on a skiff heading home
to her
jezebel
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 6:00 AM UTC
I grew up in South Auckland, Takanini
the only Pakeha in the caravan park,
I learnt how to be tall, smart and skinny
how to raise the end of my sentences in an arc.
At school, we were told words held power;
but for teachers words were flowers,
and my friend Cruz had two brothers
Harley and Davidson - they belonged to Black Power,
their fists tattooed with something like “Smother”.
But there was never violence on our street, gang was family;
I usually never felt more at home around Bourbon,
loud Reggae, bags of **** and men so manly
they’d cry over love, and I wouldn’t get a word in.
Though my Father votes National and thinks Michael Laws is right
so moves us to Dunedin where it’s ninety percent white.
I stopped reading Lenin and picked up Rousseau
became a vegetarian, thought it was so cool you know,
even wrote a blog that discussed rise from below.
But I’ll never know below again
until I’m drunk in an old shed at 3am on a school night
singing along to Bob Marley in Maori,
sunk deep into the mattress propped against the Harley,
the one you and I would cruise on until dawn together
as police took to the streets in riot gear -
we’d get lost in the country and learn to smother
our thoughts in starlight then stagger over,
listen in to the darkness,
and just slowly breathe
the crisp, cool air of the kiwi tundra.
They say New Zealand has two flags,
but in the country, when you’re blazed
on the benefit, ****** on the disdain
for positive discrimination, you can pick out
all the small bright koru unfurling in the stars.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 4:52 AM UTC
I got a plan
You all are part of my caravan
My cousin went to Paris, France
Here was my chance
I told her to bring back a Paris Cap
So what do you think of that?
But thinking now, I should have asked for the foundation of the Eiffel Tower
Now that would have taken a lot of power
My cousin couldn’t store it in our bag
Perhaps top security and that would be a drag
My next idea was to take the Eiffel Tower apart piece by piece
This is some plan I love Lucy show would do
But I wouldn’t expect my cousin to pursue
But the French would be losing an art
I would really be telling the French, the Eiffel Tower must depart
Yet I must be clever and smart
However, would I place instead?
Why not a Giant Crepe Suzette
Do you think the French would notice?
Obviously they would
It is my thinking of should
Then the possibilities of could
I guess the Eiffel Tower I will never get
It was a hope but now a regret
The Eiffel Tower being its Paris stay and being my let.
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
I am not a poet.
I am only a wanderer in the marketplace of words,
a fool who follows the glimmer of syllables
as others follow the scent of bread.
Poetry is not ink on paper.
It is the pulse beneath the page
a breath moving through the hollow reed of the poet,
a secret that leans close to the ear of the heart.
When I meet a poem, I bow.
I circle it once,
then twice,
then again,
as though it were a shrine whose mystery
can never be entered in a single step.
Each reading strips away a veil.
Sometimes the veil is my own blindness,
sometimes the poet’s mercy in hiding the flame
until I am ready.
There are nights I leap from sleep crying, I have it!
and mornings when the truth laughs,
gently reminding me:
Child, that was only the shadow of the meaning
come back, and drink deeper.
Poetry is a journey without map or return.
It is the caravan of joy
that passes through my heart again and again.
Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 8:53 PM UTC
Off she went all dressed up to meet the guy she swiped left upon.
Five feet 10 his profile said but that's where all the lies began!
In she walked in her killer heels, eyes wide and bright to look for him.
But not a sign of him to see had he stood her up? How dare he!
Then at the bar worst for wear she saw his face and balding head.
How had he aged so much, so soon from the photos that made her swoon.
Well the truth aired and shots were fired, Napoleon's descendant had clearly lied!
The CEO of a successful business would be up at 5 for the newspaper deliveries.
His holiday home was a caravan, in the **** of Wales where no one went.
His hair had gone south long ago and his belly was chasing it now as well.
But in all of this, had she lied? Was she 48 or 55?
Had those lips been rendered too? With botox and the wrinkles smoothed.
At 48 or 55 that dress had some riples inside.
The parts Spanx can't control, where age and love handles roll.
She stayed they drank. Then drank again and laughed and talked of other things.
They danced made shapes for all to see like watching a form of epilepsy.
They left at one her shoes in hand, holes in her tights, lipstick smeared upon his cheek and a room to find to seal the deal.
Promises made to meet again and drink and dance and meet their friends.
Next week he was sat at the very same bar, watching the door for her enterance!
She? Oh no, nowhere to be seen. Across the town at another scene. This time an accountant, chartered too!
But we all know it isn't true.
Fairytale endings nowhere to be seen. Just nights of ****** and living the dream.
All in all is this all that they want? Repeating the cycle over again.
With another fool in fancy dress?
Viewed from the bottom of an empty glass.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 8:49 PM UTC
Brother Iran
by Michael R. Burch
Brother Iran, I feel your pain.
I feel it as when the Turk fled Spain.
As the Jew fled, too, that constricting span,
I feel your pain, Brother Iran.
Brother Iran, I know you are noble!
I too fear Hiroshima and Chernobyl.
But though my heart shudders, I have a plan,
and I know you are noble, Brother Iran.
Brother Iran, I salute your Poets!
your Mathematicians!, all your great Wits!
O, come join the earth’s great Caravan.
We’ll include your Poets, Brother Iran.
Brother Iran, I love your Verse!
Come take my hand now, let’s rehearse
the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
For I love your Verse, Brother Iran.
Bother Iran, civilization’s Flower!
How high flew your towers in man’s early hours!
Let us build them yet higher, for that’s my plan,
civilization’s first flower, Brother Iran.
Published by MahMag (translated into Farsi by Mahnaz Badihian), Other Voices International, Thanal Online (India), Deviant Art, Portal Vapasin (Farsi). Keywords/Tags: Iran, Iranian, Farsi, Persia, Persian, brotherhood, culture, civilization, poetry, literature, poets, mathematicians, philosophers
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 3:06 AM UTC
Camel faces
Darkness is in every corners of desert animals
witnessing the faces of donkeys and camels
The owner opens the gate for them to rest
but the unkind wind breaks down from the east
Caravan of camel is not decorated in colours
walking towards the desert without any flowers
Everywhere I see women wearing their veils,
without seeing their lips and simple smiles,
their white-pink garment is handmade,
Inside, suffers an unseen house maid
She is bold and gentle, but dark by birth ,
Same like God’s own created Earth.
Looking at the distant burning flame
Thirst for soft touch rises to blame
Not grasped by inner heart desires,
Dried ,withered dreams Disappears
By Williamsji Maveli
Email:[email protected]
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC
*Sometimes it's a cactus, not a rose
that pinches the heart of a lover
though, she doesn't smell musk
or her eyes aren't lined with kohl,
he was weary and looking for an elusive spirit
which even he wasn't clear what, but found in her.
Breaking away from the caravan
hurtling down the dusty road
to an unknown town in that arid desert
he spoke to the cactus, whose eyes met his
when a shiver passed through the psyche of both.
Cactus, stood looking at him, her sad smile hinted
to the heartbreaking news they have to face,
cactus, broke her silence, said she was happy
on being looked after by the hollering sun,
howling desert wind and sand storm cover her
with utmost affection,"They are my cousins,
they know me well all these years,
I let them decide for me what I need..."
they stood looking at each other, for a minute,
nothing more was to be told
"Have no misgivings, stranger, though my lover you are,
we live or die here together, but your destination is far
you are a rare one, readily gave your heart
to a mere desert cactus, that rarely flowers,
your perception, is the creation of your vibrant mind
I respect your passion and spirit of adventure,
we live the way we are made to live, why bear the pain of change,
I hope you know what I mean,
we live the way the most fitting for us, love is sacrifice too,
we both have hearts that beat together, I am blessed
but now, we have different choices, who can say who is right
the logic we espouse are different, though our hearts crave to be together*"
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 1:05 AM UTC
Washington DC deeply mourns
Elegance at its best
The horizon of sunrise to sun down which can both contest
The term “STAND BY YOUR MAN”
Nancy Reagan fits that caravan
Social butterfly
Nancy Reagan was her married last name
But her life also surrounded Hollywood in bringing her fame
Yet Nancy Reagan had a very fulfilled life
She lived throughout her creed
Her mission was to continue to proceed
Nancy Reagan’s name known throughout the world
The world’s heart captivated in tears
But her life contributed in having no fears
It was Nancy Reagan’s pause being her own class act
This is a true known fact
There was emptiness in her heart, and she longed to hear her late husband Ronald Reagan voice once again
Ronald Reagan’s voice did call
I saved you a place to be by my side
Heaven was all prepared
The chariot was set just right
Suddenly there was a strong beaming light
Nancy Reagan responded that the light was extremely bright
It was the signal for Nancy Reagan to come up
I saw two flying Doves
It was each in enduring love
Nancy Reagan will be missed
She left an enriched and embraced life
But she also states, don’t mourn long for me
I am at rest in a place I want to be
Yes I was Nancy Reagan for all to see
But I want you to remember me as Nancy
You know, the one into fashion and fancy
My three components, COMMITMENT, DETERMINATION AND DESTINED
This sums up Nancy Reagan’s life while she lived
Her devotion in time that she would normally give
Her motto, Live on, but be involved
The world’s problems, just try to solve
My legacy of who I was speaks for itself
Don’t think of me like everybody else
As a Dove, I must fly on to the next chapter of my life
A journey far and long, but Heaven is where I belong
I hear music in my arrival
I hear singing of joy
My life has been fulfilled and I want you all to carry on still
I say until we meet again to all my loving friends.
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
I once knew a watch-thief
Who stole for his own
He wasted the time that he
Stole on the road
But this gypsy boy finds
A young girl one day
With a garland of flowers
And a red satin waist
She came from the highway
That led to the city
Her garments conveyed
She was wealthy and pretty
The gypsy boy wore
Some old slacks and no shirt
And he would not have seen her,
But she introduced herself first
Before hellos were said
Or greetings exchanged
Years later he said
He could feel something change
As she told him of ease
That she left behind
He fell to his knees
And praised God’s good design
If love is a lifetime,
Then lend me your hand.
The sparrows are witness
That my promise stands
And now our gypsy wagon
Is off down the road
And we’ll never stop moving
Cause this is our home.
This small band of gypsies,
Now larger by one
Trundle the pathways
and roads they call home
The watch-thief reclines
with his girl in his arms
they fall quickly in love
‘Neath the light of the stars.
But if hindsight goes further
And time teaches true
There was blood in the water,
If only he knew.
She came down to his level
But took it too far
She went too far in revel
And slowly, she broke the boy’s heart.
The gypsy boy stood,
Still stock still in his shock
He ducked under the hood
Of his caravan-rock
He walked back to the city
She’d said she was from
He put it in a bag
And he drank in the slums.
If love is a lifetime,
Then when will you come?
The sparrows, our witness,
flew too close to the sun
And now my gypsy wagon
Is off down the road
And now I’ve nowhere to go
because you were my home.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 2:41 AM UTC
Abbie hailed a yellow top cabbie
Brenda had a sister in-law named Glenda
Cate ran late on her first date
Delly ate seven bowls of lemon jelly
Edwina drove to the town of Catalina
Fran burnt her finger on the very hot frying pan
Gwen had a strong yen to go and see her aunty Jen
Hope bought her husband a towing rope
Isobel fell under the magician's spell
Joann took her mother on a holiday in a caravan
Kylie went to the dentist with her brother Wylie
Lesley liked listening to Elvis Presley
Marcia enjoyed eating a freshly baked focaccia
Nell saw a turtle coming out of his shell
Olga lived at the top end of the river Volga
Primrose had a Pinocchio nose
Queenie knitted a multicolored beanie
Ruth could never tell the whole truth
Stacey loved playing dress ups with her friend Tracey
Tilly behavior was always rather silly
Una bought a house in the suburb of Yagonna
Verity wanted to be a well known celebrity
Winifred never stopped taking about Alfred
Xena was presented with a court subpoena
Yale told her teacher a tall tale
Zealand ventured out into the bushland
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 8:30 AM UTC
I'd like to stop and chat with you
But alas I'm only passing through
From this moment into the next
Wherever it is I'm feeling lead
Deep down inside this Gypsy soul
Follows where this one man Gypsy caravan rolls
Hoping one day it will find
Another Gypsy heart like mine
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
There be some juice. Light, we cannot drink.
Dark our days that trudge on, laden caravan.
There be some song, to the tune of the winds.
Parched, the baked earth thirsting for a caress
wet from the silken lashes of the sky maiden.
Let's talk to her tonight,
the last lotus is in still-bloom
in the folds of her tresses
as she goes about plucking
stars for her worship-basket.
Soon the earth is covered
in the misty offerings to Deities
at the far end of spacetime.
Juice some there be. Drink, we cannot light.
Caravan laden on trudge that days our dark.
The winds of the tune to song some there be.
A caress for thirsting earth the baked, parched
maiden the sky of lashes the silken from wet.
Let there be light, let there be.
Darkness, we have enough.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
1097
Dew—is the Freshet in the Grass—
’Tis many a tiny Mill
Turns unperceived beneath our feet
And Artisan lies still—
We spy the Forests and the Hills
The Tents to Nature’s Show
Mistake the Outside for the in
And mention what we saw.
Could Commentators on the Sign
Of Nature’s Caravan
Obtain “Admission” as a Child
Some Wednesday Afternoon.
3k
Packing a snack
For the road ahead
You need to eat to survive
But a little extra food wouldn't hurt a man
Unless you ate food size of a caravan
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
Without legitimate occupancy,
Adverse possession is the legal right
Of anyone who moves in and maintains
A property, so here's the deal. We must
Move in to 1600 Penn,
The current tenant having broke the lease.
The caravan from Guatemala first, Hondurans trudging slowly from the depth.
Then the Yemen children not yet murdered,
Those with preexisting conditions next,
And women whose assaults were ridiculed,
Those roughed up by cops and politicians.
Losers in the war on drugs, the big house
Having far exceeded capacity.
The mentally ill, discarded by the
Great communicator after he tore
The Solar panels off the roof. This is
Anger, not poetic license. When a
Long train of abuses and usurpations
Evinces a design to reduce them
Under absolute Despotism, it
Is their right, it is their duty to throw
Off such Government, and to provide new
Guards for their future security. Such
Has been the patient sufferance of these
And such is now the necessity which
Constrains them to alter their systems of
Government. And journalists under fire,
If there's room still left in the briefing room,
Let facts be submitted to a candid
World.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 9:49 PM UTC
Refrain:
Free-ee-ee caravan
Won't you join me on the free caravan?
Just let your hair down
Try, try to unwind
Please free your mind.
We'll go beyond the wind's domain
To find that dip in the ground
Where true freedom is found.
Feel your soul fly free.
1.
Let's escape the confines of this caged life
Of ******* to banks, of toiling to work
Of rushing to shops, of accepting too much
Of just too much......
2.
Gotta leave behind all the piling possessions
These things which steal your flight
Rob your sight
Increase your plight
Make you fight
Gotta seek what's real in life.
3.
We see the landscape changing
Yet it's all the same
Age teaches us yet we learn too late
That your childhood is so precious.
4.
So now, no more trudging, begrudging
Just flying free in the wind
Journeying to that dip in the soil
Where there is no more toil.
S T, 24 April 2013
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC